In An Age Before
by Phantom Bard
Summary: Ch 121 up...in which the battles for Osgiliath and Ithilien are joined.
1. Default Chapter

**In An Age Before - Part 1

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**IN AN AGE BEFORE**

**By Phantom Bard**

**Disclaimer: **All characters and backstory from **_"The Lord of the Rings"_** and **_"The Silmarillion" _**have been used without the permission of the Tolkien Estate, Ltd. All characters and backstory from **_"Xena Warrior Princess"_** have been used without the permission of Universal/Renaissance Pictures/Studios USA. The author intends neither profit nor distribution in print, nor are any claims made of official connections to the original works or creators. Any privately created copies of this work, any Internet postings, and any further presentations of this work must carry this disclaimer. There is no intention on this author's part to debase, belittle, or trivialize the original works. This author holds all the original material in the highest regard for its creativity.

**Note to Readers:** In writing this story I have presumed that the readers have a familiarity with the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, for most of this story is set in his world. Where material is not derived from his works, **_"The Silmarillion"_** and **_"The Lord of the Rings"_** I have made notes of attribution, (i.e. UT, **_"Unfinished Tales"_**), or for Elvish words and phrases, as to their composition. Please excuse any errors in the creation of such words and phrases, as I am not a linguist. Knowledge of the canon of Xena Warrior Princess is less necessary, save that Melinda Pappas and Janice Covington were WWII era descendants of Xena and her companion Gabrielle, presented in the episode, **_"The Xena Scrolls"_**.

**_"In An Age Before"_**, © 2004-2005 by Phantom Bard

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**Prologue**

_**Minas Anor - F.A. 2,021 (1,901 BC) - The Fourth Age of the Sun**_

The din of sudden battle echoed amidst hard walls of close-fitted stone. It rebounded back, harsh, from the mountain's sheer face behind. Barking of dogs, crashing of timbers. Clattering hooves chasing a panicked tide of fleeing feet. Cruel laughter, cries of fear. Crowds raced through the city's darkened streets. It was an hour when only watchmen and the drunks staggering from the first circle's bars should have been afoot. But from narrow alleys and broad avenues came the clash of arms, the yelling of battle orders, and the words shouted in a harsh foreign tongue. Screams shattered what had been a peaceful night. And as always in war there was fire. Snapping, crackling, the hungry flames leapt skyward and reddened the underside of a rising pall of smoke. Dark and acrid clouds swirled up from the burning lower precincts, choking the fair airs about a tall white tower.

In the King's City on the Eve of Midsummer, none had expected such an attack. It had been long since war had visited this country, and longer still since it had been fought on the avenues within the gates. Here an Age had begun and passed in peace. But on this night the old strength and nobility of that Age came crashing down.

Now at last the enemy was come in force, numerous as ants, reckless as dogs with the mouth-foaming madness, and filled with an ancient hatred. The great cavalry from the eastern steppes, a barbarian horde grown unstoppable as a floodtide sweeping o'er the bottomlands; they had finally breached the border defenses. Many of them had entered earlier under the fair guise of traders, opening the way for their army. It was a successful treachery, for none had imagined that they would strike on this night ere the _Ré i Anaro_.

(**Ré i Anaro**, **_Day of the Sun_**, **_ré_** day(24 hours) + **_i _**(def. art. **_the_**) + **_anaro_** sun(gen. -**o, _of_**); the Summer Solstice, celebrated to commemorate among other things, the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen. Quenya)

Conquering the city alone would not satisfy these hereditary enemies; nothing less than the utter destruction of the realm would suffice. Their hatred had been passed down from father to son through all the long years of an Age. Only when all the white walls were broken and tumbled and the fair courts shot with fire, when all the people lay dead and the glory of this ancient kingdom was reduced to ash, then only would the dark enemy smile in the triumph of their malice. And then they would take trophies, skins and scalps and skullcaps, to adorn their saddles and the poles of the tent cities they called scythes.

It was an old and familiar story. Through the Ages of Arda many a kingdom had risen to glory only to fall into ruin. _Endóre_ was littered with crumbling stones and buried nations. None stood forever in this Middle Earth, for in mortal lands all things changed. The low rose, the high fell, glory was found, lost, restored, and faded again, and ever darkness and light contested for supremacy. The tale was long but not endless, and though events had been presaged in the First Song long before, ever were the details a revelation to those who watched. And to those who lived within the song, they were heartbreaking and eventually tiresome in their toll.

(**Endóre,** _**Middle Earth**, _Quenya).

_Were I not now so faded, I would raise again my sword,_ she thought helplessly,_ yet my time is long done, my being become ghostly, and my hand as a vapor._

A longsword with a fell blade of black steel rested in a scabbard at her hip, a ring of gleaming mithril hung at her side, but like her they were phantasms only, here under the moon and the sun and the stars. Neither would bite on an enemy any longer. She was still clad in her mail and plate, peerless armor from a bygone Age, the work of a realm long ago fallen into dust. Yet all of it was useless now, for no weapon of this time could bite on her anymore. Her _fea_ remained intact, but her _hroa_ had been consumed in the passing of the years. The world had changed and she had overstayed her welcome in it.

As a specter she walked through the streets, bypassing the combat, the conquerors and the vanquished alike, moving unseen as the very air, less substantial than the smoke and steam. She climbed to the High Court in time to see the King fall before the doors of his Citadel, his black robed guards already lying slain about him. The first bloodthirsty foes trampled his body in their rush to plunder the Hall of Kings. And she came just ere his breath fled. For a moment they locked eyes.

"Unto the King's line alone is sight of thee given, yet now all fails," he whispered before coughing up a bloody phlegm, "the West hast fallen at last and lesser men shalt rule the days to come. I am the last of my line."

She knelt beside him and took his hand in her own. He was the last here that could see or speak to her, and the last that she could touch, for across countless years and many generations, they shared a link in blood. In a few heartbeats she would truly be alone.

"Go now wheresoever it be that the spirits of Men may go," she said softly. "An end must come of all things in Middle Earth. Go in peace. Thou hath been a good king."

For just a moment a smile curled his lips, but it did not last. With his dying breath he made a request.

"Take now this ring, for it is a thing of value for its ancientry alone, and I would not that it fall into any but the hands of my kin and those who love my house."

(Shamelessly based on the words of Arvedui, last King of Arnor, to the Lossoth of Forochel, T.A. 1975)

Upon the first finger of the hand that fell limp within her own was a circlet of gold, the band formed as of two entwined serpents with eyes of green gemstones. Quickly she drew it from his finger and it came away easily, for the time of its abiding with him had passed. Then clasping it tight in her fist she closed his eyes, and turning, left the Court of the Tree for the last time. So ended the Fourth Age of the Sun.

By dawn the sack was complete and the city lay in smoldering ruins, while on the field before its shattered walls, the conquering horde reveled in the spoils.

_Yet time shalt wipe away thy civilization too,_ she thought as she watched them, _and thy people shalt be forgotten in their turn, for all thy days shalt pass into memory, and finally be forgotten in the fleeting of the years._

To Be Continued


	2. In An Age Before Chapter 2

**In An Age Before - Part 2

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**Chapter One**

_**Amphipolis Excavation Site, Serres Prefecture, Macedonia - August 1953**_

Bright, blindingly bright. There was no better description for this day, though one could add scorching hot and not be counted wrong. The southern coast of postwar Macedonia lay three miles to the south, and what scant breeze from the Aegean that blew north up the Stryma Vale to Amphipolis was miserly. It was scarcely sufficient to ruffle the woman's pale hair, and it had picked up so much heat from the intervening land that it felt like the backwash of a furnace. She squinted out from the slip of shade beneath the brim of her worn fedora, scanning the painfully brilliant afternoon. Not a single cloud had survived the heat to float in the sky above. Mid-August…the meaning of "Mediterranean climate zone dry season" came alive in her parching throat and the sweat trickling down her back. It was enough to make an olive secrete its oil without a press.

Though she bitched to herself about the intensity of summer, she never let a word of it escape her lips. It was the perfect weather for an excavation. The lack of rain was a blessing, for precipitation was the greatest enemy on an archeological dig. Rain turned bared earth into mud. It eroded carefully excavated trenches and damaged newly revealed ruins. It could wash centuries old colors from murals or rot ancient wood. And it could undermine a freshly revealed foundation, causing the last standing evidence of a structure that had survived from antiquity to collapse.

The harsh sunlight made the slightest differences in texture or color leap out of the background. Such raking light threw even time-eroded reliefs into easy visibility. The heat kept workers focused on completing their day's labors in order to go home, leaving behind a happy foreman and the promise of the next day's wage. It removed the temptation to waste energy goofing off. And it made the workers' resent a slacker among them more than their employers did. She chuckled at that. Sometimes the gods were kind to struggling archeologists with limited time and funding. She hoped that they felt generous today.

No, Dr. Janice Covington would never voice her displeasure with the conditions. As the project's leader, she felt the pressure to maintain a disciplined and authoritative bearing. It was expected of a scientist and required all the more because she was a woman. Somehow, no matter how many digs she directed, no matter what wonders she unearthed, and no matter how she was respected at home, here in the field there was always a subtle challenge. She was a woman who held a doctoral degree, a tenured professorship, and a departmental chair at a major university in the United States. She was a woman already famous and widely respected for her discoveries and the scholarly papers she'd authored. Yet still, she was a woman directing men, and that was a potential source of friction, as much here in the Old World as at home in the New. Like any general, she couldn't show weakness before her troops. Janice would never complain of her discomfort in public.

With a careful and slow sweep of her eyes, she surveyed the site. Between the eastern bank of the Stryma River where she stood, and the emerging west wall of the city that lay a hundred yards uphill, a work crew was removing the overburden hiding the series of pilings that she and her graduate assistants had discerned. Dr, Covington and her partner believed that they had once been the footings for a bridge spanning the ancient riverbed. She noted that the crewmen were moving at a slow but steady pace, shoveling off a yard of coarse, gritty soil before the slower and more painstaking work with trowels and brushes began. They'd made good progress since lunch. Just a few more days and they'd reach the end, if her guess as to the riverbank's ancient location was correct. Her eyes moved on.

Further uphill, Democratis Pemos, a graduate student from Athens, was concentrating on a section of stones. The blocks were part of the foundation of the western city wall, long ago demolished and burned. They suspected that a twelve-foot gap in the course of stones signified one of the city's gates, for it lay in a line with the bridge pilings. Dr. Covington was impressed with the careful approach Democratis took to his work. At his age, her own temperament had been rash and impulsive, but also tenacious and inspired. With the passing years, she had mellowed somewhat. It had allowed her to coexist without shooting anyone at the Dept. of Archeology at the University of South Carolina. Of course there had been arguments, personality conflicts, name calling, and politics. Those were the mainstays of academic infighting, expected and indulged in most cases, and entirely eclipsed by a professor's ability to publish findings, secure donations, and increase enrollment. Somehow Janice Covington excelled at all these.

Her eyes swept yet further uphill. At the crest of a bluff that demarcated the visible horizon, a group of tents clung to the rocky soil like barnacles on a lobster's carapace. The smaller ones housed the on-site staff. The larger ones held a kitchen and dining space, a storage space, and the study area. It was from the last tent that a tall figure emerged. As Janice watched, she stretched and shook out her long fall of black hair. It was a sight that never failed to stir Dr. Covington's heart. With a wave, she caught the brunette's attention, and across the distance they shared a smile.

Melinda Pappas, Columbia, South Carolina socialite and heiress, she held no academic position, yet had earned a doctorate in classical languages fifteen years before. She was the best living practical translator of ancient Greek and Latin dialects, from the Classical Period to the Hellenistic Era, and one of the few people who could speak those lost tongues like a native. Mel had spent many years learning not only the vocabulary and construction, but also the correct pronunciation. For that, she'd had help. Incredibly, on an expedition in 1941, her body had been briefly possessed by the spirit of an ancestor so ancient that her speech had revealed the language as it had once been spoken. While she'd traded barbs and battled a god in his tomb, Melinda had memorized every syllable, every cadence, and every vernacular expression.

Later she had correlated those spoken words with the texts they'd discovered, the legendary "Xena Scrolls". Her study had allowed her to speak the language, not just read the words. Her accomplishment had been applauded throughout the archeological and linguistic communities, but went unrecognized by the public. Melinda hadn't been concerned in the least. Since that time, she'd spoken with her ancestor on a handful of occasions, and with each opportunity she had refined her knowledge. Then too, there was a strange irony inherent in her profession and inherited from the past.

Melinda Pappas' interest in language mirrored that of her ancestor's beloved partner, Gabrielle of Poteidaia, who had authored the "Xena Scrolls". Gabrielle, bard, warrior, and Amazon Queen, was the ancestor of Melinda's partner in this life, Dr. Janice Covington. And in this modern life, Janice, adventurous, decisive, and as skilled in the classroom as in a gunfight, mirrored Melinda's ancestor, Xena, the Warrior Princess.

From the bottom of the gritty hill, Janice saw her partner gesture for her to come up to the study tent. The translator wouldn't have called for her presence without a reason, and the call excited Dr. Covington. Mel was more likely to minimize the impact of a discovery that to dramatize it. She tended toward reserved and analytical, her scholarly attitude supported by the gentility of her patrician Southern background.

Janice trudged up the workers' path, skirting Democratis, whom she acknowledged with a nod, and continued past the site of the ancient gate. In the afternoon heat it was a climb best taken slowly, at a measured pace that metered her sweat and the hot air sucked into her lungs. Surviving August in Amphipolis was mostly a matter of controlling how quickly to let the heat cook your body from both the inside and out. It was a slow fry if done correctly, with rejuvenating dips in the river and lounging time under the stars. Janice and Mel had become old hands at it, having collaborated on a half-dozen digs in what had once been ancient Thrace and Macedonia. Jan stepped uphill over golden-tan soil stippled with pebbles and scree; this potentially treacherous footing on a steep grade demanded maintaining attention on her balance.

The first leg of the path took her past the excavation of a well-to-do merchant's home. The masonry walls were covered with a temporary wooden roof that protected the site from wind and precipitation. The home's interior walls were covered with geometric designs in gold and red, painted in sections that subdivided the interior walls into a series of panels. The decorations were surprisingly well preserved on the parts of the walls that still stood, and though the original roof had long ago fallen in, the site provided an insight into the aesthetics of the people who had lived here 2,400 years before.

Janice turned the first switchback and started up the second transverse leg of the path. Now the increasing altitude gave her a better view of the bridge piling excavation. From the stubs of the exposed posts, she could almost visualize the actual construction. It revealed a span wide enough for a pair of wagons to pass abreast. In fact, the bridge appeared to have been of the same width as the gate. No bottlenecks in traffic here, she realized. No hampering of the movement of goods in this successful commercial outpost of Athens that had quickly declared its independence from its mother polis and thrived.

She checked the slip of her right boot on a handful of marble-sized stones and barely kept her balance while uttering a soft curse. Served her right for letting her mind wander, she chastised herself. She resumed her pace with wariness, casting a quick glance up towards the tents. Mel was watching her and shook a finger at her as if she'd actually heard the curse. She knows me too well, the archeologist thought, and I love knowing she does. Jan's shrug and apologetic look were answered with a smile.

The archeologist returned her attention to her footing before she ended up slipping again. She didn't speed up or slow down. Around another switchback and up another transverse she walked. In the heat she had ample reason to maintain a safe pace. The practice was sound, and as always, she eventually reached her destination. At the path's head, she pulled her fedora from her brow, wiped her face with a sleeve, and brushed a few stray strands of blonde hair from her eyes.

"So what's new?" She asked Mel as she reseated her hat.

"Jus' somethin' I thought ya might like to see, Jan," the translator replied, "a fragment of a carvin' from the IV Crypt pit. It was found amidst the backfill an' doesn't appear to be from the same period. I can make out a few symbols, but it's not a familiar script."

"Mel, if it's something you've never seen, then I won't know it from a doctor's scrawl," the blonde said, "you're the expert here. I just play in the dirt."

She gave her partner a grin to accompany her self-deprecating comment. Though she'd sometimes still had lapses of self-confidence, she'd grown more objective with the years of success. She seldom fell into the once frequent morose fits of drunkenness and depression that she'd indulged in when the two had first met.

The legacy of her childhood and the shadows of her father's reputation had conspired to make Janice Covington a hard nosed, hard drinking riot girl with a passionate mission that had seemed doomed to fail. She'd been obsessed with the dream of validating her father's belief in the existance of the legendary female warrior, Xena of Amphipolis.

All his life, "Grave Robber" Harry Covington had searched for the evidence that would prove his claim. He'd never succeeded. The archeological community had shunned him. His peers had looked down their noses at him, and no institution would fund his expeditions. Still, the man had persevered, selling what he found to collectors to finance his next project rather than presenting the artifacts to accredited museums for study. And through all those fruitless years, he had dragged his daughter along with him after his wife had given up in disgust and left him. Janice had never really had a childhood. Her earliest recollections were of dig sites, living out of tents, eating camp food, and watching her father fight a losing battle with depression and alcohol. She'd picked up her best and worst traits from him; loving and hating him, and following in his footsteps because she didn't know how to do anything else.

Then in 1941 the break had finally come. A tablet had surfaced in fragments, and in a conflict with the Nazi backed treasure hunter Edwyn Smyth, she'd finally succeeded where her father had failed. The events at the dig site had been more like the adventures in the scrolls they'd recovered, for along the way, she'd been a party to history in the making, not just the rediscovery of its records. On that fateful dig, Janice Covington had first met Melinda Pappas, the daughter of one of her father's only friends, Prof. Melvin Pappas. Like their fathers, the two women had been about as different as was possible. Janice was a scrappy adventurer, independent and fearless in the field. Melinda had never been away from home, never been on a dig, and arrived dressed for the society cotillions and garden parties of her hometown of Columbia, SC. But she'd been indispensable as a translator, and more than that, she had been a living link to the legend that the Covingtons had chased for two generations.

Melinda Pappas had been revealed as the last living descendant of the Warrior Princess. In the tomb in which Janice's own ancestor's scrolls had been found, Melinda had briefly been "possessed" by the ancient warrior's spirit, and she had successfully fought a god. Janice wouldn't have believed the story if she hadn't been there. She was realistic enough to know no one else would believe it either. On top of that, she was cynical enough to know that a single whisper of what had transpired at the site would leave them both ostracized in their professions. And so neither woman had breathed a word of it to anyone else. But Janice had dynamited the tomb to trap the God of War, explaining to the academic world that it had been structurally unsound and had collapsed…a tragic loss to archeology. Her claim that they had been lucky to survive had been absolutely true.

"Well, let's have a look," Janice offered, gesturing Mel towards the study tent.

Melinda turned and led her partner back into the shaded interior and over to a folding table. Both the table and the tent were Army surplus, sound and cheap. On the table lay a fragment of pale, fine-grained marble about a square foot in area. One corner of the small slab had been worked with great precision, the other edges were fractured. It was apparently the corner of a facing stone that had overlain other materials in whatever construction it had originally come from. Janice appraised the workmanship visually. The corner was sharp and smooth, and probably an exact right angle. It was well formed, but excellent stonework was a hallmark of many ancient civilizations, back when labor was cheap, hours were long, and masons were skilled with their hands.

Melinda drew back a tent flap, uncovering a mesh filled window beside the table, and a square of sunlight illuminated the slab. Dr. Covington saw that it had been carved in bas-relief, with raised traceries and some flowing incised script that was wholly unfamiliar. She leaned down closer and examined the design. For several minutes silence reigned, relieved only by the women's soft breathing.

"Never seen any script like it," Jan said with certainty, "and I haven't a clue about it. I can see that the cross-sections of the incised lines are absolutely square…the sides and bottom are smooth, flat, and of even depth regardless of how wide the line is. Whoever did the work was certainly a master of their craft."

She withdrew an eye loop from her breast pocket and flipped open a lens. Putting it to her eye, she leaned down even closer to the piece.

"Mel, look at this," she said, standing upright and passing the lens to the translator.

Melinda took the magnifier and sat down in a folding camp chair before leaning in for a closer inspection. She was too tall to favor being doubled over as she squinted through a lens at a mystery. It was distracting, and though she was Xena's descendant, she didn't think that she'd inherited her ancestor's iron spine.

"Where'm I s'posed to be lookin' here, Jan?" Mel asked in her characteristic drawl.

"At the swoop of the figure here," she pointed to the spot with the tip of a pencil, "right down in the corner of the channel."

Mel shifted her point of focus and then stopped.

"You see it now, Mel?"

"Yes, I believe I do," the southerner said, "why it looks to be a fragment of silver." She stared at it for a moment and then moved the lens a little further down the channel, "and here's another, Jan, at this intersection. Have a look." She handed the loop back.

"But silver would have tarnished and turned black long before now," Jan commented.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the pair discovered many small residual fragments of metal, and they finally deduced that at one time, the incised script had been leafed with precious metal. It was very unusual.

"So why would someone bother to carve the design in marble if they were planning to layer it in silver?" Mel asked. "Marble's hard."

"I can't imagine," Jan answered. "We've both seen silver and gold inlaid or beaten onto wood…even burnished onto sandstone a couple times, but never onto something as labor intensive to work with as marble. And the incising is so perfectly done…why bother when it was going to be covered? It would have been much easier to carve it rougher and smooth the lines in the metal instead. I've never heard of anyone being so perfectionist."

"So ya don't have any idea where it's from or who made it."

"I couldn't even begin to guess, Mel. I've never seen designs like these. I couldn't even guess how old it is."

"Me either."

"Who brought it in?"

"Why one of the grad students found it. It was in the IV Crypt pit about ten feet down."

"Ten feet…" Janice mused, "…pre-Attic?"

"Well, we've always thought that anything below eight feet was from prior to the colonization by Hagnon and the Athenians…"

"And the IV Crypt pit is adjacent to Hill 133, right?"

"That's right, and we know Hill 133 artifacts go back to the Neolithic," Melinda agreed, "but it coulda' been displaced into an early Attic era burial too…in the Bronze Age."

"I'm going to go have a look," Janice said, "I'd like to see exactly where this was found." She braced herself for the brightness and heat of the sun outside the tent and then looked back at the brunette who was examining the slab again. "You wanna come along, Mel?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she said with a smile.

The IV Crypt was a burial site that the pair had tentatively dated to 435-405 BC, and it had been used during the first decades after Amphipolis had been founded. The period had encompassed the Athenian defeat by Spartan allies during the Peloponnesian War, and Amphipolis' independence. The times had been hectic and dangerous, and it had become apparent that more than one family had used the crypt. The site had been somewhat beyond the original city's walls and therefore less attractive than the burial sites closer in, but it had not wanted for tenants. The remains of sixteen bodies had already been recovered.

Janice and Melinda walked down the sloping ramp that led into the excavation site. It wasn't really a pit. Rather it took the form of a long trench some twelve feet wide, which reached a maximum depth of eight feet below the present surface. The actual crypt was a low structure made of limestone that had originally been partially underground. The surrounding strata showed that the natural incline had left the mouth of the crypt open on the surface, but had hidden the rest underground. The builders of the structure had simply tunneled into the side of a hill, lined the hole with limestone slabs, and added a portico with the door. For the next thirty years, they'd reopened it to add more bodies.

The current excavation had reopened the interior, but had also freed the walls of their supporting overburden of earth. Now the crypt was freestanding, as it had never originally been, and as a result, it had been shored up on the outside with wooden beams. It had been during the digging of the postholes for the last few timbers that the fragment of slab had come to light. The two women made their way around the crypt to the hole from which their current mystery had appeared.

Janice, always direct in her investigations, lay down on the ground and lowered her head into the hole. It was narrow, barely eighteen inches wide, equally long, but almost four feet deep.

"There's a discontinuity here," she announced, her voice muffled by the dirt she was facing. She spat as some stray grains fell into her mouth. "About two feet down, I can see that the strata have been disturbed. Hand me a trowel please, Mel."

The tall brunette searched for a moment and then snatched the requested implement from a bucket of tools and handed it to her partner.

"Thanks. I'd just like to clear a little way back at the top of this lower layer and see where it goes."

A discontinuity is a place where the layer that had been on the surface sometime in the past had been eroded down before new sediment had been deposited on top. For the archeologist, it represented a gap in time. The eroded sediment that had gone missing could encompass decades, centuries, or even millennia. There was always uncertainty as to how much had eroded away and how long had passed before new material was deposited. Sometimes it remained impossible to tell, though sometimes the time frame could be inferred. The only thing for sure was that the sediment below the discontinuity was older than that above, and that there was a time gap between the present layers.

Melinda could see that Janice was digging into the side of the hole, removing the upper material and letting it drop into the bottom. Every so often, the archeologist would spit out more grains of dirt or shake it out of her hair. Still she continued digging. They both heard the trowel's blade ring as it scraped against something more solid.

"Mel," she called excitedly, "I think there's more of the slab down here…at least it's more marble." She was digging more franticly now. The sounds of metal on stone were more obvious. "Yes, definitely."

Suddenly she lurched back up into a sitting position. Her eyes were glowing with excitement.

"Tomorrow morning I'll get a crew up here to remove the overburden. The piece I see in there is too big to budge. I think it's a sizeable panel. Maybe we'll be able to learn something definite about this when we get it free."

"I'll try to have Dr. Thalassiarchos come down from Serreai. He's an expert on the local strata. Maybe he can identify the ages of those layers."

"Good thinking, Mel. It might give us some more clues about what we've got here, 'cause personally, I'm still in the dark. All I know is that it's old…maybe real old."

Jan tossed the trowel back into the tool bucket and retrieved a roll of string and four wooden stakes. She quickly set up a square around the posthole, marking the corners with the stakes and encircling them with the string. It would give the diggers the location and extent of the area they were to excavate the next day.

That night Janice barely slept for her excitement. Somehow it was always the same. She'd never lost that impatience when there was an impending discovery waiting. Like a child on Christmas morning, Jan would never be able to unearth an artifact fast enough. Getting the object out of the ground, out of the past, and into the present where it could be studied, learned from, and appreciated drove her compulsively. It was an itch that had never diminished no matter how long she had worked at digs and no matter how many tidbits of the ancient world she had brought to light. She lay in the dark seeing the unearthed fragment in her mind's eye, and matching it up with the fragment still buried.

In the narrow cot next to her, Melinda lay on her side, breathing even and slow in the depths of sleep. The tall brunette had smiled at her partner's "obsession", remarking that whatever was down there had been waiting at least 2,500 years, before she'd rolled over and dozed off. Janice had always been amazed at Melinda's ability to quash her excitement and sleep.

It was during this time that she realized something else. The discontinuity was ten feet below the present surface. The surface in 435 BC had been almost the same as the modern surface, maybe slightly higher, though the crypt had still been buried when they'd found it. It had originally been a tunnel dug into a hillside. Whatever lay beneath the layer of the ancient tunnel's floor must be truly ancient. It had already been ancient in 435 BC. And yet, the workmanship was far too precise for the Neolithic. Hell, it would have been fine work if it had been done by the carvers who had once raised the High Gothic cathedrals at Cologne, Paris, Amiens, or Reims. It would be admirable work even if done today. Janice Covington was still wondering when such a high level of stone carving had been attained in Thrace as the velvet wings of sleep enshrouded her.

Morning seemed to arrive between one heartbeat and the next. Janice Covington awoke as if her hours of sleep had passed in the blink of an eye, and after regaining her wits, she was as impatient as she had been when she'd fallen asleep the night before. She rushed out to the dig site still tucking in her shirt, begrudging the time spent tying her bootlaces.

Thank god for short-wave radio, Janice thought. She and Melinda had spoken briefly with Dr. Thalassiarchos as she'd slugged down a mug of coffee, and he had agreed to drive down from Serreai after lunch. Janice would be impatiently drumming her fingers all afternoon until he arrived.

By 8:00am the temperature was rising, but the crews had already been out and digging for an hour. The archeologist nodded in approval; the workmen were still energetic this morning, unfatigued by the day's growing heat. Overhead the sun was brightening as it continued to rise. Another summer's day in Macedonia, she groaned to herself.

By 10:00am, the posthole had been enlarged to five feet square and the diggers had cleared away the overburden until they'd encountered the top of the layer beneath the discontinuity. They'd called Dr. Covington to the pit. Janice had fought hard not to run.

"I'll be damned," she muttered to herself as she looked into the hole.

The diggers had uncovered the lower layer, but embedded in it she could clearly see the marble slab, still partially buried, and the corner where the fragment she'd examined yesterday had been broken off. It was at least four feet wide, but how long it was couldn't be seen yet. Even so, the buried section was much larger than she'd thought.

"Let's extend the trench by another two feet," she instructed.

A pair of diggers moved to begin shoveling off the dirt that still covered the slab. Janice sat in the shade of the crypt's doorway and sipped from a mug of coffee. She was on her third cup and welcomed the caffeine. After getting only four hours of sleep, she needed it. She checked her watch again, hoping that Dr. Thalassiarchos drove as fast as everyone else who'd tried to run her off the roads in rural Greece. She looked up and saw Melinda walking towards her.

"What've ya found?" Mel asked as soon as she was standing in front of Janice.

"Well, it's still bigger than the hole, and the piece you showed me is only a corner. I still can't tell how big the whole thing is. I'm having them dig back another couple feet."

Melinda walked over to the hole and watched as the overburden was removed shovel full by shovel full. She waved her partner over after a few more minutes.

"Looks like it's still bigger than the hole," the translator observed.

Janice hopped down into the hole and stood in front of the partially revealed slab. What she could see of it was already over four feet by six. She carefully felt for the edge of the newly excavated portion and determined that it continued.

"Looks like another two feet has to go," she told the diggers as she climbed back up.

Waiting had always been hard for Janice, but the larger the slab turned out to be, the better. The design would be more revealing. It might suggest affinities to known civilizations or at least provide a greater vocabulary of design elements. Every added clue was valuable. It was like hearing a verse instead of only a line of a song, seeing a reel instead of only a scene from a movie, or reading a chapter rather than a paragraph of a book. The evidence would accumulate. They would learn more and have a better chance of unraveling the mystery of the slab's origin.

Finally the diggers motioned to Janice that they'd finished. The archeologist and her partner returned to the hole and Janice hopped in. She felt for the edges again, and this time discovered that the buried end was free of its overburden. With a trowel, she began carefully removing the last few inches. After that she used a stiff brush to swish away the loose dirt, before switching to a softer brush to clean the surface design. Even though she was too close to easily see the entire slab, she sensed that she was viewing it upside down. Melinda, standing above her at the edge of the hole, had come to the same conclusion. The brunette had paced around to face Janice and was staring down at the marble's surface.

"Oh my," she whispered. "Jan, c'mon up outta there an take a look at this. I've never seen anythin' like it, and…it's beautiful."

The archeologist was already moving. She braced her hands on the side of the pit and levered herself out, then scrambled to her feet and joined her partner on the other side. Looking down into the morning's excavation, she was immediately struck by the same impression. The slab showed both positive and negative reliefs. The main design elements were edged by a graceful tracery of stylized leafy vines in bas-relief, forming an arched framework around a central image. Among the raised vines, that enigmatic script had been incised. On a flat field within that border, the emblem of a tree in flower stood from the surface in high relief. Engraved above its upraised limbs hung a canopy of seven stars, and unmistakably above all else was carved a high winged crown.

It took the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon to free the slab and move it into the study tent. By then, the geologist, Dr. Thalassiarchos had arrived. He'd hopped down into the hole, pinched off some dirt from below the discontinuity, and rubbed it between his fingers to assess the grit. He'd tasted a sample and spat it back out. He'd gathered a large sample in a glass container to take back to his lab. Finally, he'd checked the other layers in the IV Crypt trench, nodded a few times and muttered to himself. Throughout it all, Janice had waited in silent, growing impatience, while Melinda had sat in the shade from the crypt with her eyes defocused, consumed in thought.

Finally, after about a half-hour, Dr. Thalassiarchos pronounced the layer below the discontinuity, "very old," to which Jan had groaned and Mel had displayed the hint of a grin. He informed them that he'd need to make a few tests in his lab, but was almost certain that the discontinuity accounted for lost years numbering in the thousands, rather than in the tens of thousands or millions. Then he'd looked speculatively towards Hill 133, shaken his head, and taken his leave. Janice and Melinda had gone back to the study tent to clean and contemplate their find.

"I'm certain the style isn't Attic Greek," Melinda commented speculatively, "nor Persian, nor like that of the native Thracians. It isn't like the Scythian forms either, an I don't think it's like the Asian work imported down the Silk Road."

"It's not," Jan confirmed, "it's finer workmanship than any of them. The crown isn't like anything I've ever seen either…Assyrian, Sumerian, or Babylonian. It's not Minoan Mycenaean, Arcadian, Aeolic, or Doric either. I can't think of a single contemporary affinity that's stylistically close. In fact, the closest aesthetic examples I can recall are Western European, maybe High Gothic or later. It doesn't make sense."

Somewhere long ago, lost in the vanished years, a king had ruled. Perhaps a whole line of kings had ruled in this place. But who they'd been, and what name or boundaries their realm had claimed were a mystery. Three things the archeologist could deduce from the slab. The first was that the rulers had enjoyed the benefits of a highly skilled craft tradition, and this bespoke stability and wealth. Second, by placing the crown above not only a tree that symbolized earthly nature, but also above the stars of the sky, this king had claimed a divine right to rule. The sovereign's mandate had come from above the material and the ethereal, bequeathed by the gods themselves. Typical grandiose royalty, Janice Covington thought, and for all that, their dynasty ended and their kingdom fell. What can possibly stand against the endless turning of time? All that is certain is change.

There was one final thing that Janice Covington could deduce from the slab's decoration. The outer tracery and the tree had been rendered in bas-relief, raised above the surface of the background. This meant that they had been aspects of the slab's original design. But the stars, the script, and the crown were engraved below the surface, carved into the already existing flat marble field. Though there was probably no way that she would ever know for sure, Dr. Covington strongly suspected that these elements had been added later. It was the single aesthetic flaw in the piece. Had the complete design been known at the time of the slab's initial creation, then all the elements could have been rendered in relief, leading to a much more artistically cohesive product.

Perhaps the use of the slab had changed. Perhaps the secondary elements had signaled a change in the society's ruler. So why not place the design on a newly carved slab? Well, perhaps the existing slab had been of such value that it had been altered rather than replaced. Perhaps it had been permanently fixed in position. Then there were the earlier questions. What did the script say? Why hadn't the silver tarnished? How long after the slab was first carved had the lettering and metal been added? And why had the carving been done in such an obsessively perfectionist manner?

These were just the kinds of questions that the archeologist had been trained to ask. They were questions that she had trained herself to seek clues to answer, for with those answers she could draw real history from the artifacts and come to understand a time, a place, and the people lost long ago. And yet they were just the kinds of questions that she had all too often resigned herself to accept that she'd never be able to answer. The years jealously hid their truths behind the shadows and veils of time.

To Be Continued


	3. In An Age Before Chapter 3

**In An Age Before - Part 3

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**Chapter Two**

_**Of the Creation and the Elder Years of Ea**_

In the beginning, Ea, the world that is, was foreshadowed in the void as a dream of the first lords, the Ainur, who sang at the command of Eru, the One, who is called by his children, Iluvatar. By His Will, a vision of Ea was realized from their music, for the potency of the Imperishable Flame dwelt within them, and lit their works in praise of His Name. Then of the Ainur, some clove to the vision of Ea until its ending, and committed themselves to creating it, and through their long labors Arda, the world, was realized amidst the Void.

Into the world the great spirits of the Ainur came, for in them burned the Imperishable Flame of Iluvatar, and these are the gods. They divided among them their powers in Arda, to govern each according to the composition of the music of their Song. Seven Valar, High Lords there were, and seven Valier, High Queens as well. The greatest of these were Manwe, Aule, and Ulmo, but the greatest of all was the first enemy, Melkor who is named not amongst them. Also into the world came many spirits, no less hallowed but of lesser power, and amongst these were the Maiar. Even before the first of days they contested for the mastery of Arda, and Melkor's defeat was incomplete so that his designs survived to take form again and again, and this too was in the Song. So Arda was conceived in conflict, and battle comes to the world from the powers above, for it was in the first making of Ea, before it was given form. And war shall follow in Arda down the halls of time, even unto the ending of days.

From the beginning of time in Arda, many ages of the world passed in battle with Melkor and his servants. The Valar built great lamps to light the world and Melkor threw them down. The Valar grew Laurelin and Telperion, great trees with radiant blossoms that lit the Blessed Realm of Aman, and Melkor destroyed them. The First Age of the Sun ended with The War of Wrath and the overthrow of Melkor, who had been named Morgoth. Yet the victory was incomplete, for Morgoth's lieutenant, Sauron had fled. The Second Age ended with the War of the Last Alliance, when Sauron was thrown down and the One Ring of Power was taken. But again the victory was incomplete, for neither the ring nor Sauron were destroyed. The Third Age culminated in the War of the Ring, when Ring of Power was destroyed and Sauron's evil dispersed, but it is held to have truly ended with the passing of the ringbearers from the shores of Middle Earth.

In the deeds of the Three Ages of the Sun one can discern the diminishing of nobility and spirit that the days have wrought upon the mortal world. From the majesty of the Ainur, whom men call the Valar, to the fading of the Eldar and the rise of Men, the thread of the Imperishable Flame has withered in the hearts of those who dwell in Arda. Once there lived immortals bright, Elves and Gods, wizards, Dwarves, monsters, and Maiar, spirits of great power. In these latter days it is only mortal men who walk the earth, and even these are diminished from the nobility of their ancestors through the mingling of their blood and the ceaseless, tiresome grinding of time.

Yet at the beginning of the Fourth Age there still walked among men, those strains that had come down from Valinor in the earliest days of the world, for among them lived the line of kings, scions of Númenor. In them persisted the blood of the Eldar and of the Maiar, for the first king was Elros Tar-Minyatur, son of Earendil and Elwing. Earendil was the son of Tuor, a mortal warrior, descendant of the Houses of Beor and Hador, and Idril Celebrindal, daughter of the elven king, Turgon of Gondolin and a Princess of the Noldor. Elwing was the daughter of Dior, but the root of his lineage was founded in the love of Elwe Singollo, King Thingol of the elven realm of Doriath, and Melian the Maia, a kinswoman to Yavanna, Goddess of the Earth, Bringer of Fruits, and Patron of Growing Things. Through Thingol and Melian's daughter, Luthien, and her beloved mortal warrior Beren, the lineages of both Eldar and Maiar passed into Elwing and thence to the race of kings.

And once long ago, as the Fourth Age opened in celebration of the defeat of the great enemy Sauron, that strain of mythic blood had been reinforced one final time. The first queen had been Arwen, daughter of Elrond, who was himself a son of Earendil and Elwing, and the brother of the first Númenórean king, Elros Tar-Minyatur. The first king of the Fourth Age was Elessar, Aragorn, last heir of Númenor in the Third Age, and a direct descendant through Earendil to the legacy of Tuor, Idril, Turgon, Beren, Luthien, Thingol, and Melian. In the union of Aragorn and Arwen, the lineages descending from the Maiar of Valinor, the High Elves, and the Edain, the Fathers of Men were reunited and preserved into the diminished world of the Age of Men, the Fourth Age of the Sun.

In the days of their union came the restoration of the northern and southern kingdoms; Arnor and Gondor, the reunited realm of the Exiled Númenóreans. In the reign of King Elessar, much of the grandeur that had once flourished was reborn for a time. Minas Tirith, the steadfast Tower of Guard was rededicated, reclaiming its ancient name, Minas Anor, Tower of the Setting Sun. Osgiliath, the great city that sat astride the river Anduin was rebuilt in the south, while in the north, Annuminas, Fornost, and the tower of Amon Sul rose again from their ruins. Elostirion, the Tower of Emyn Beraid, the fortress of Orthanc, and the Havens of Mithlond were occupied again. And the Tower of Sorcery, Minas Morgul, once the fair Tower of the Rising Moon, was razed to the ground.

King Elessar was crowned on May the 1st of 3,019 of the Third Age, but the Fourth Age did not begin for almost another two and a half years. On Spetember 29th of 3,021 the ringbearers sailed to Aman in the West, and just ere the winter solstice, word of their passing reached the king's ears in Minas Anor. With the two Hobbits had gone Galadriel and Elrond and Mithrandir. They had borne away on the Straight Road across the waves, Nenya, the Ring of Water, wrought of mithril and set with a diamond, golden Vilya, the Ring of Air with its great blue sapphire, and Narya, the Ring of Fire that bore a flaming ruby. The end had come of the Elven Rings of Power, leaving mankind to order the ways of Middle Earth.

Then Aragorn, the King Elessar, had ordered carvers from the Lonely Mountain to alter the emblem on the wall behind his throne in the Hall of Kings. There above the White Tree of Gondor the stone-wrights of Erebor carved the Seven Stars and High Crown that had completed the livery of Elendil, first High King of the united realm of the Exiled Númenóreans in Middle Earth. Upon the traceries and Tengwar script, _mithril_ was overlain so that they flared in the least rays of the sun, and with the blazing gems set as flowers on the boughs of the White Tree, henceforth backed the king's throne with a radience of blessed light. With the passing of the Three Rings, Aragorn took up the symbols and the rule of the coming Age of Men. And for Elves, the fading quickened.

Of the War of the Ring and the great deeds done in that time, much has been written. Yet many stories saw not the attention of scribes, nor were remembered in the songs of bards. Many had fallen in the War and many had fought the Shadow. In many lands good and evil had contested, not only in Gondor, or in Rohan, or in the Black Land of Mordor. Battle flared across Wilderland; in Mirkwood, in the woodland realm of the Elven King Thranduil, in the dwarvish realm of King Dain, at Esgaroth and Dale, and in Eriador to the west of the Misty Mountains.

All these lands had their heroes, their enemies, their fallen, and their survivors. All had their stories to tell, adding their sorrow and their wisdom to that tapestry that life calls history. But history is a glass that stretches and misshapes the images it transmits. Memory fades, records are lost, and civilizations fall. Across the sea of years, the deeds of the present drift to the provinces of forgetfulness, or of legend, or of myth. And to those who would seek the truth of past ages, only the distant echoes of tales and the fragments of stone can speak with muffled and quavering voices. Their whispers tickle the ears, and the mind is led to dreams of what went before…perhaps the hopes, the fears, and the loves long lost.

To Be Continued


	4. In An Age Before Chapter 4

**In An Age Before - Part 4

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**Chapter Three**

_**The Hidden City of Gondolin, and Beleriand - The First Age of the Sun**_

The enemy had attacked on the eve of Tarnin Austa, the Gates of Summer, darkening the coming morn's welcome of the bright days. The festival of thanksgiving and song was cast into nightmare as the blight of the city's winter crashed down. For centuries on that special night, a solemn silence had reigned in that city, from midnight 'till dawn, but now cries of dismay rang from the white walls. Gondolin, fairest city of the Noldorin Elves in Middle Earth, last realm of the Exiled Amanyar of Beleriand, had been revealed to the Great Enemy at last.

(Amanyar,_ Elves of Aman_ those who had completed the westward march to the Undying Lands and seen the Light of the Two Trees before the sun and the moon. These were the Calaquendi, the Elves of Light, the Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri who left Middle Earth and sailed across Belaeger, the Sundering Sea. Quenya)

The Host of Angband had assailed the Echoriath, the shield wall of Gondolin, overtopping the encircling peaks from their northern heights in a whelming wave of fire. They'd covered those highlands in a living rind, a writhing skin of foes, numerous as maggots lying thick upon a ripening carcass. By command of Morgoth Bauglir their master, the _Uruloki_, firedrakes sired by Glaurung, the _Valaraukar_, or Balrogs, under the dominion of Gothmog, wolves of the kindred of Draugluin, lumbering armored _Tor_**¹**, and _Yrch_ beyond count overran the hidden kingdom. Ere the Gondolindrim could array their warriors or prepare their defense, the Guarded Plain was taken and the enemy besieged the city itself, encircling the high hill of Amon Gwareth. The plain of Tumladen lay under a reek of steam and smoke, through whose clouds Morgoth's forces martialed to destroy the city of Turgon, while the twelve noble houses of defenders fought in desperation and confusion.

(Yrch, or Glam, _Orcs_, pl. Sindarin) **¹**(Tor, _Trolls,_ pl. Sindarin)

Yet even in defeat the valiant among the Gondolindrim did many deeds worthy of memory and song. There in the Square of the King, Ecthelion battled and slew Gothmog, Lord of the Balrogs and Captain of Angband, in single combat, though he was flayed and enveloped by the Dark Flame. Long they fought, neither yielding to wound or failing courage. Never had an enemy struck blows so bitter against the fallen Spirit of Fire, though the Valarauko had laid low no less an adversary than Fingon son of Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor in Exile. Ecthelion of the Fountain, seeing the fall of his city and the jeopardy of his king, called upon the resolve of the doomed to bolster his courage. No fear diminished his heart in the face of his death, for here he faced the slayer of his overlord and the assailant of his liege. In his last defense before the Tower of Gondolin, the light of his eyes flared as he dealt the Balrog's death stroke with the spike that capped his helm ere he fell, burned and poisoned by his wounds, dragging his foe with him into the deep Fountain of the King. Thence to the Halls of Mandos Ecthelion's spirit departed, rejoicing that even amongst the greatest of his forefathers he had won renown by avenging King Fingon and Feanor the Proud.

Fierce was the fighting outside the city, even as it was within Gondolin's walls. Among those who still battled upon the Plain of Tumladen even as it was overrun stood Helluin of the Host of Finwe, called also Maeg-mormenel, named for the star whose blazing blue light shone in the color of her piercing eyes against the night dark sky of her flowing jet hair. Noldor and Calaquendi, she had seen the Stars of Varda Elentari in their first glory, and in Blessed Aman, the Light of the Trees. In her eyes that light shone forth as she did battle, retreating to the gates of the city and leaving a trail of fallen enemies to mark her passing.

She was a deadly warrior, though when asked, named herself an explorer first. In this First Age of the Sun, she was already over 4,400 years of the sun in age. She had fought Morgoth's Hosts aforetime, and amidst the great battles, violence had ruled her in such measure that friend and foe alike had shied from her face in astonishment and fear. She had fought as one possessed of some unholy bloodlust, tapping a darkness within that was shocking to most of the Eldar, for they had known such reckless ferocity aforetime only from the minions of Morgoth. That darkness consumed her, ruled her, and yet derived not from some natal flaw of temperament, for she was neither vicious nor brutal save in combat. The source of it was unknown to most of the Noldor, a mystery, for she had not learned it with the martial skills she'd acquired from Eonwe or the Maiar of Tulkas in Aman. Tulkas fought with laughter and a smile of pure joy on his face; Helluin fought with a sneer of intimidating menace. Her overwhelming violence came forth from a dark aspect she'd acquired en route toEndóre, and in Middle Earth it served her well.

Here she dealt a death stroke to a _Torog_ though his claws tore at her armor in his fall and her sword was shattered in piercing his hide. She snatched an abandoned _Orch_**¹** scimitar and hewed the Orch Captain Glog, but the jagged blade caught in his spine-bones and snapped when she wrenched it free. Tossing aside the haft in disgust, she flung the dead captain's company a feral laugh as she drew her dagger and planted her feet.

(Torog, _Troll_, sing. Sindarin) **¹**(Orch, or Glamog, _Orc,_ sing. Sindarin)

"Surely Morgoth Bauglir hast emptied his fortress of Angband to lay this siege. Thy entire nation against but one city," she cried out as she taunted her enemies. "Noble company I shalt hath and plenty when I meet Namo in the Halls of Mandos this day. Death to us both then, but better my reward than thine, thrall!"

Yet even as she said it, a thing occurred that could only have happened in the midst of a battle. The falling body of a dead Elf smashed headfirst into the Yrch company, crushing many beneath its ruin and scattering the rest. The Yrch could well understand bombarding an enemy with the bodies of the fallen, and so they looked up the sheer wall of Amon Gwareth in fear. Helluin did as well, after noting that the fallen body belonged to none other than Maeglin, son of Eol, an ambitious whippet of whom her only feelings had been a long-growing antipathy. The final part of the unforeseen event was the fall of a sword, in truth, just what Helluin needed at that fateful moment. It landed blade first in the upturned eye of the Orch Lieutenant, sparing itself from crashing onto the paving stones by sheathing itself in his body. As he pitched forward she snatched the weapon from his corpse, only mildly surprised when it clove him asunder. Then she twirled it in her hand, noting the fineness of its balance. She had no difficulty slaying the remaining seven Yrch of the company before making her way through Gondolin's broken main gate.

Later she would come to learn that the sword had a will of its own, for it was an unadorned black blade, very unusual in its lack of traceries or inlays, and it seemed to seek blood. In this it was a perfect match to her spirit, for when Helluin had won renown in the Dagor Aglareb and the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, she had slain countless of her lords' enemies in a murderous frenzy. Maniacal laughter had welled up from her throat. Indeed her own allies had feared to approach her in her wrath for she was fell, her eyes _blazing_ with blue light, black hair whipping with the violence of her strokes, and as she slew she screamed, _"Beltho Huiniath!"_, at the top of her lungs. Many of the Noldor respected her, but many feared her ungovernable violence as well. A dark sword had fortune delivered to a heart well acquainted with darkness. Though she had never before held it in her hand, Helluin knew this sword for she had seen it many times before.

("Beltho Huiniath!" _beltho_ (kill, imp -o) + _huiniath_ (huin, them, coll. pl. **-**iath, all of them), lit. trans. "Kill all of them!", ver. trans. "_Kill 'Em All!",_ Sindarin).

Without a doubt this was Anguirel, the blade of meteoric iron that the twisted and secretive Maeglin had stolen from his father, Eol of Nan Elmoth, and it was one of a pair. In truth, Helluin had come to loath the young miscreant who'd lusted for years after his cousin, Princess Idril Celebrindal, the golden-haired daughter of Turgon the king. She spared scant sorrow now for his death, but she rejoiced in his weapon.

Little did she know that it was a mortal man, Tuor son of Huor, who had slain Maeglin, casting him from the walls of the city with a mighty stroke of his axe while rescuing his wife, Idril, and their son, Earendil. Maeglin's corpse had bounced thrice off the rocky Hill of Watch ere crushing the Yrch, a great shot that the Man had not remained upon the wall to celebrate. Later Helluin would thank him effusively. At that moment she thankfully clasped the hilt in her bloody hand and strode into the court behind the gate, finding it a scene of chaos.

Combat flowed all about and the dead, both friend and foe, were piling up on the blood slickened masonry. Battle cries, screams of pain, and cries of woe assaulted Helluin's ears. Orders yelled and the tramping of boots, horns blasting notes distorted by waves of heat as they echoed through the streets, crash of masonry and whoosh of flames all added to the clamor and confusion. Dragon fire exploded into the comely South Fountains beside the Way of Running Waters; clouds of steam erupted skyward obscuring much of the surrounding melee. The necrotic stench of the wyrms' flesh assailed all. Harsh shrieks of triumph, the unearthly hooting calls of the Glamhoth, the guttural bellows of Trolls, and the roars of the Uruloki punctuated the din.

(Glamhoth, _Orc Horde_, lit. trans. _"Din Horde",_ coll. pl. Sindarin)

Somewhere up the King's Way from where Helluin stood, the ringing of silver trumpets calling the King's Guard to retreat yet again rang through the air. Many foes no doubt stood between her and Gondolin's defenders. Like many others, she was cut off from the main host of the Gondolindrim, and yet, she thought, what did it really matter? The city was revealed at last, the Echoriath breached, and Tumladen overrun. Death for them all seemed but a matter of time, for with the fall of the Hidden Rock, there would be no place beyond the reach of the Dark Enemy of the World. Yet the Fall of Gondolin would come at no small cost even to Morgoth. One already of his lieutenants had fallen in a fateful and historic combat. Gothmog, the Captain of Angband and Lord of Balrogs, lay dead by Ecthelion's hand, having traded his life to slay the noble Lord of the Fountains.

Now Morgoth's minions were running amok with no certain battle order. Nevertheless they were numerous enough to carry the day. The main gate and the north gate had both fallen. There was combat in the King's Square, in the Great Market beyond it, and in the Square of the Folkwell. Repelling the invaders looked hopeless to Helluin's practiced eye; already firedrakes were converging to undermine the Tower of Turgon, and ever more of the enemy was charging into the city. Most of the mansions and halls were consumed in flames. Helluin shook her head. Ondolinde had been her home for 384 years. As she negligently slew any that approached her, she thought Gondolin as good a place as any in Middle Earth to die…better than most places in fact. Namo awaited her, but once in the Halls of Mandos she would have to question him, if such could be done, concerning the words of a certain doomed Man.

Then out of the corner of her eye she spied a second thing unlooked for, and on such a day of infamy, the observation seemed fated. There, disappearing through the arched side entrance into a building that she knew housed nothing more than a stable, were the fleeing forms of Tuor, Idril, young Earendil, Galdor, Glorfindel, and many more of the noble folk of Gondolin. What could they possibly want with the few horses stabled in the Hidden City? Within the encircling mountains the beasts were a ceremonial indulgence at best. But the stable was 'nigh the house of Tuor and Idril, its owner no doubt in their confidence. Helluin smiled to herself; if there was an escape attempt in progress, then it was for the better to join and support it. Perhaps they'd need a rear guard, for after living 4,411 years of the sun, she could plainly see that the whole attack had reeked of treachery. She could not know that she grasped the evidence of that treachery's redress in her hand.

At that moment words spoken to her long ago came again into her mind, but now for different cause. _"Thou shalt in days ahead repay this sacrifice we make for thy lord," _Huor of Dor-lomin had declared with the foresight of the doomed, _"for thou shalt succor the sons of my house yet to be." _After thinking she'd be questioning Mandos about those very words, she recognized her fate. Where Tour and Earendil went, Helluin was bound by debt and honor to follow. No less could she do for Idril, the only child of her king. There was nothing more she could do here for Turgon, last son of her old lord Fingolfin.

Shrouded in the miasma of the burning, Helluin quickly fought herself free of the nearest of her enemies and then slipped through the arched door. In the relative quiet the blade in her hands seemed to thank her for the anointment of blood. On the stable's floor, faint footprints in the straw and dust led her to a trapdoor. After quickly opening the stalls to free the horses, Helluin descended through it into a tunnel.

Above her the milling horses erased all traces of their passage. Below in the dark, only by the acuity of her hearing did she discern the telltale sniffling of the young Earendil and the slight scuffling of Tuor's mortal footsteps, the only clues to the secret way under the Guarded Plain. She hastened to follow in absolute silence, hoping against hope that they weren't planning to collapse the tunnel in the wake of their passage.

Long they walked in the darkness and long she followed. How far beyond the Echoriath did the tunnel extend? 'Twas a league and a mile to the encircling mountains from the precipice of Amon Gwareth. Perhaps it was another quarter-mile from the stable to the outer walls of the City of Gondolin. The mountains of the Echoriath were more than three leagues in breadth, in places as much as nine, depending on where the tunnel breached the surface and issued forth again into the light. She knew nothing of its course save that it ran to the northwest; her unfailing sense of direction told her that much…_obliquely towards Angband,_ she thought,_ of course_…_and the highest peaks of the Echoriath. And probably into an encampment of Uruloki and Valaraukar,_ she mentally added with a groan. For reassurance, she clasped tighter the hilt of her new sword.

Eventually she let her mind slip into the waking dream that passes for sleep among the Eldar. There, while one foot silently followed the other, she beheld again the Light of the Undying Lands, standing on the blessed Hill of Tuna where she could with but a turn, espy Varda's comforting stars in the darkened sky through the Calacirya, the Pass of Light. Soon it seemed, she heard ahead of her the whispering of the company, and she withdrew from her memories. Helluin perceived that she would soon come upon them in the darkness for they had stilled their steps and stood together taking counsel.

"Soon must we find our way hence," declared the unmistakable baritone of Galdor, Lord of the House of the Tree, "ere summer's early rising of Anor betray us yet. But wherefore indeed hath we come?"

"Here the way issues from the Echoriath into a high vale, and many miles still lie before us ere we find the way to Taur-Nu-Fuin," a voice Helluin recognized as Idril's whispered.

"Surely Dorthonian is held in force against us," a worried voice she knew was Tuor's replied. "We shalt be espied long ere we reach the plain."

"Perhaps a distraction could aid our flight," Galdor suggested.

"A distraction greater than the burning of Gondolin I hath difficulty to imagine," Tuor responded dryly, "but we shalt be as naked to the eyes of Dorthonian."

"Yet still we may come, by favor of the Valar, unto the Pass of Anach at the headwaters of the Mindeb unseen," Idril continued hopefully.

"Nay. The Host of Morgoth must hold Dorthonian still, for though they hath assailed Gondolin in might, they would not chance being themselves flanked from the east, for not all evil there counts itself in Morgoth's service," Glorfindel's unmistakable musical voice disagreed. "We dare not take that route with so many among us wounded…even coming to the plain and the pass as thou suggest would end not our jeopardy."

Helluin eased her way forward, into the rear of the crowd whose attention was so focused on their leaders that they paid her no mind. She was familiar to them all. She looked around and noted that, save Turgon himself and Ecthelion and the others who were dead, she'd have chosen these same ones to save herself. She nodded in the dark.

"There lies no hope in the eastward course," she offered, "for even were thou to win free across Dorthonian, then the Ered Gorgorth would thou face to the south, and beyond it Nan Dungortheb, the Valley of Dreadful Death…dramatic, yes, unless thou favor spiders and spirits yet more fell."

Idril, Tuor, Glorindel and several others turned to face her, surprised to hear her voice.

She glanced around the circle of faces and gave counsel of war. "The Pass of Anach is certainly watched. Even Morgoth's host must guard against the spiders and worse that darkens that accursed land. Yet were thou to gain the River Mindeb, whither then? Yrch now roam in the land of Dimbar."

The group saw the truth of her words though they were still astonished by her presence.

"Helluin, how came thou hither?" Idril asked in amazement, "we had given thee up for dead, knowing thou fought beyond the walls."

"'Tis a tale for later, though one of good fortune from the sky," Helluin assured her. "I would counsel thee to seek a path west. Perhaps the way that lies hidden there will bring us safely to the Pass of Sirion and thence south? Even were we to pass the horrors of Nan Dungortheb and the enemies in Dimbar, still we would find no succor. Nargothrond lies in ruin, and hast Thorondor not reported the fall of the realm of Doriath?"

The others nodded in agreement.

"Once long ago I chanced upon a way," Helluin began, recalling a harrowing journey she had made over 400 years before while scouting the eastern flank of the Pass of Sirion. Her mission had been for Prince Finrod ere his stay in Doriath and the building of Nargothrond, when he still held the tower of Minas Tirith on the isle of Tol Sirion. "And though that way is hard, 'tis unexpected that any should flee thither and it may yet be unwatched. Thereabouts lies a high pass called the Cirith Thoronath, the Eagle's Cleft."

Here Glorfindel groaned out loud.

"What?" Asked Idril and Tuor almost with one voice, married couple that they were.

Helluin grinned. "Lord Glorfindel is right to loath that road. It winds amongst the precipices above the snow line for a ways, a single-file path, and no provisions but much hardship will we find there. Scarcely a thing lives in those lands, and for that reason it may serve us, for hopefully no spy watches the way."

"Yet after three leagues of hard toil it begins to fall, and then by steep slopes finds its track after six leagues into the foothills above Sirion," Glorfindel reported. He displayed a grimace of distaste. No flowers grew on that sere and frigid height.

For a while no one spoke, giving thought to the choice of the road ahead. There were no comfortable alternatives. Uncertainty and tension lay thick in the still air.

"Well, we certainly can't go north," Tuor muttered absently to no one as he leaned on Dramborleg, his long-hafted axe.

(Dramborleg,_"Thudder-Sharp", _UT, Part 2, Ch. I, ADotIoN, Note 2, pg. 172.)

Only the Anfauglith, the desolate wasteland that lay before the pits and gate of Angband 'neath the smoldering peaks of Thangorodrim stood to the north of the trackless mountains and Dorthonian. North would be the least expected and most suicidal direction they could take while fleeing Gondolin. No one in their right mind fled north _towards_ Morgoth's realm. It was an example of what Helluin perceived as mortal humor and she'd always found such amusing. She chuckled at the absurdity of the thought.

About her others did likewise. The tension abated apace and clearer thought took root.

Of all the mortals she had known in Beleriand, Tuor, tall, dark-haired, handsome, and noble had become her favorite, for in him lived again the courage and valour of his father and uncle, Huor and Hurin of Dor-lomin, whom she had known only for a short time. Later, when she discovered that it was Tuor's timely slaying of Maeglin that had delivered Anguirel to her hand at need, she regarded him even more highly, for she felt the hand of doom guiding their relationship. In honor of the heroic brethren of the last generation and his providing for the deliverance of her life in Gondolin, Helluin resolved to guard his house while his years lasted.

It was with misgivings but no more favorable options that the remnant of Gondolin issued from the hidden way and took their path westward towards Sirion. For a while their steps led upwards and this was disheartening to all. For a league and more they ascended before coming to the pass. Chill winds grew and gripped them, and no food did they find amidst the barren rock of those mountains. All about them peaks rose, snow-capped and forbidding, and if any blessing was granted them, it was the very desolation of their surroundings. It was inconceivable that the agents of the enemy would be near.

Disheartening too was the view south. There lay the burning ruin of Gondolin, wreathed in fumes, the prominent pearly spike of Turgon's Tower notably absent after its fall. Across the miles came the roaring of the dragons and the intermittent cheers of Morgoth's host celebrating their victory. Their home now hosted the billowing black smoke and bursts of reddish flames that marked the passage of Valaraukar as they strode the avenues in triumph. Punctuated by the crash of falling stone, the city's ruined visage haunted the refugees until it disappeared at last behind a high ridge.

Misery and depression were their roadfellows for two days of hardship and slow travel. Much suffering befell the wounded among them, struggling on in the bitter cold over that narrow and slippery path. Thin seemed the very air, sapping the strength of the company. To the north, upon their right, a face of granite rose sheer and unbroken, many hundreds of feet high. Southwards on their left, a chasm fell down into nothing, for there lay a rift between peaks that plummeted at last to a dry gulch, called of old, _Thorn Sîr_, distant to the eyes. At each moment the chances of a misstep threatened to send one over the edge, and many were the times a boot would skid and a gasp of panic would be heard. Tuor soon took to carrying Earendil on his back, trusting not to fate to guard his son's steps. Few thought their plight could worsen save Glorfindel, who brought up the rear, and perhaps Helluin, whom the host had insisted join Galdor in the lead. Between them the survivors were strung along more than two furlongs of trail, all single-file, with the children and those most injured in the middle.

(Thorn Sîr, _Falling River._ See _"The Fall of Gondolin",_ in TBoLT, Vol. 2, pg. 194.)

It was on their second day of suffering that the unthinkable befell them. Out of a dark gap in the cliffside a company of Glam issued from some underground lair to block their way and assail them. Helluin, Galdor, and those warriors at the front of the column fought desperately to drive them back. Glorfindel, trapped at the rear of the column, could only listen in horror, for he and his warriors were unable to come to their aid. The battle raged fierce on the narrow path, caught between the rock wall and the abyss. Bodies fell; both Glamog and Elf, and the dead of both races were pushed aside by the living.

At last it seemed the Eldar were gaining the upper hand, for the Elvish warriors fought desperately for their survival while the Glam fought only to indulge their malice. Galdor stove in the iron cap of the Glamog Captain with his steel studded war club and kicked his body into the abyss. Then with a mighty slash, Helluin swept three of her enemies into the chasm and the rest edged back, away from the flaring blue light of her eyes and the violence of her wrath.

It was then that a stench of sulfur and roiling flames issued from a new formed split in the rock wall. The cliff cracked asunder with a shrieking groan of the tortured stone. A second company of Glam rushed upon the rear of the refugees, embattling Glorfindel and the warriors with him. And yet even worse was to come. A Balrog issued out of the mountain, wrapped in Shadowy Fire, and snapped its whip sending four of the Glam to their deaths. A wash of flames leapt up as the Valarauko met the free air, and smoke rose into the sky. Behind the Balrog, more Glam poured out of the mountain to join the battle.

Helluin saw the black fume rising and knew what had happened at the opposite end of the column. In desperation she looked back, and the black sword, Anguirel cried out in her hand for blood, but there was no way to pass those behind her to come to that battle. In frustration she charged those few Glam still remaining in front of her and drove them screaming in a rout until they lost their footing and plunged to their deaths.

The Battle of Glorfindel and the Balrog upon the frigid heights of the Cirith Thoronath is memorialized more dramatically elsewhere in story and song. There each fought the other with masterful strokes and the unbending strength of their wills. The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower contested with the fallen Maia, and though his sword sang with light, still he could not overcome the Dark Flame, nor could he be overcome by it. Glorfindel was burned beyond healing; his enemy he slashed with sword and gut-gored with dagger. Wounds each dealt and wounds each bore, and the smoke and lashing fire of the Balrog went up to the heavens. There it was marked by farseeing eyes that had long watched over the Hidden Kingdom of Gondolin.

It was only as Glorfindel and the Balrog, clasping each other in a shared death grip, finally pitched over the edge of the path that a sortie of Eagles stooped upon the remaining Glam and drove them shrieking to their deaths. Not a one survived. They fell like cinders from a grate, down into the depths of the ravine between the mountains. No whispered word reached the ears of Angband to report on the flight of the refugees.

In the aftermath the Elves counted their losses and sorrow wrung songs from their lips in requiem for the fallen. The body of Glorfindel was borne up from the depths of his ruin by Thorondor himself, and there in a place beside the high pass they buried him with honor 'neath a cairn of stones. It is said that in later days a verdant turf and flowers of gold, _elanor_ perhaps, came to grow upon that funeral mound, a memorial to the valiant sacrifice of the Lord of Gondolin's House of the Golden Flower.

Now Helluin, having been at the front of the column, had played no part in that battle. But after the entombment of Glorfindel, she allowed the column to pass her by and she took up a guard upon the rear, knowing that danger could come as easily from behind as before. Tuor and Galdor now led the reduced company, one guide being as good as another, for about the path there were no choices to make; there were neither turns nor sidetracks to find.

A day after the fall of Glorfindel the way began to descend and on that eve the path gentled and opened into a high sward of rough grass. About them the first stunted trees clung to the rocky ground and a meager trickle of snowmelt found its way, haphazard among the boulders. Here the refugees rested, finding running water and food for the first time since taking their flight. Helluin looked down from the outcrops bordering the small field and saw pine-clad slopes and the Pass of Sirion laid out below her as with the sight of the Eagles themselves. The bright ribbon of running water twinkled in the sun's light, beckoning with promised surcease of their torment. Soon the others had gathered behind her for a look, and their spirits rose in hope at last though a long road lay ahead ere safety could be found. They had been three days in the mountains.

The flight of the remnant of Gondolin has been sung in many lays, and therein it has been told how Tuor, with Idril and Earendil, came in stealth down Sirion, 105 leagues to the willow meads of Nan Tathren above the mouths of Sirion. There as that fateful year waned, the survivors made a feast and sang songs of sorrow and memorial, remembering all the fallen, comrades and kin, and not the least of these Glorfindel and their king, Turgon son of Fingolfin son of Finwe. And at the last, these survivors took their way downstream again, 25 leagues to the mouths of Sirion where the great river meets the sea at the Bay of Balar, joining their host to the remnant of Doriath. There the peoples merged, scions of Beren and Luthien and Turgon and Huor. And the blood and the hopes of the Eldar and of the Maiar and of the Edain ran in the lines that flowed down to Elwing and Earendil on the shores of the Sundering Sea.

Many years did those people dwell there in the lands of Avernien, between the mouths of Sirion and the Cape of Balar, and it has been told how the mariners of Cirdan the Shipwright taught them seacraft and the building of ships. During all those years, Helluin remained among them, and at their backs she made her defense against the agents of their enemies, be they Orch, or Man, or Elf. Many she slew in the delta and the woods 'nigh Sirion's banks, and for all the years of Tuor's life no word of them came to hostile ears, whether Morgoth, or Easterling, or son of Feanor.

Yet in the waning of his life, Tuor finally followed the sea-longing that had grown in his heart, and he built the fair ship _Earrame_, the Sea Wing. In it he took his beloved Idril and set sail into the west. It is told that by the grace of the Valar and the presence of his wife, a princess of the Noldor, that his ship found the sea roads that no mortal sailor can find, and navigating across the Shadowy Seas, came at last to Aman the Blessed. There, according to the bards, he was joined in eternity with his beloved Idril Celebrindal, and was numbered among the Noldor until the end of days. Yet if this fate be so, then they were received despite the Doom of Exile, and never were they seen by the mariner who came after to Aman.

Now ere the time of his sailing, Helluin spoke with Tuor, saying that in her heart she felt the desire to see again her ancient home of Vinyamar, though perhaps it had fallen to ruin in the years since the Gondolindrim had followed Turgon son of Fingolfin hence to the Hidden City. Time was passing but memory remained. Tuor had nodded in understanding, for in his 24th year he had come there to Mt. Taras, and by the aid of signs from Ulmo, had found Vinyamar and the arms left behind by Turgon at the sea god's bidding. Dear to him as well was the memory of that country, though he had endured it alone ere he found Voronwe of Gondolin, for it had brought him to his destiny and his beloved. Beside him Idril had smiled into his eyes, their love undimmed by a century together.

In early summer Helluin began her journey, taking leave of Tuor and Idril, and Earendil who had grown to manhood and learned to sail. She made her way northwest, crossing Avernien through the Birchwoods of Nimbrethil, and striking the coast again midway to Eglarest. These lands had once been the southernmost part of the Falas, the holdings of Cirdan, where many of the Sindar and some even of the Laiquendi had taken refuge ere the ravaging in the year that followed the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Now the lands lay empty save for roaming bands of Easterlings, sparse companies of Yrch, and those few among the Sindar and the Edain who still resisted them.

Helluin passed swift and silent through that land, recalling the stealth of the hunters and sentries that had once kept watch over the realm of Nargothrond, past Tar-en-Faroth to the north. To her sad eyes, West Beleriand had become a wasteland, depopulated and ravaged by war. Soon she crossed the River Nenning, turning inland from the sight of ruined Eglarest. Here the land bore more severely the evidence of the destruction of the Falas. Scars of burning and of battle were still to be seen, a scorched homestead, a broken bridge, or a fallen wall, cold memorials to ruined hopes and lost lives.

Just as swiftly she passed through the hills between Nenning and Brithon, finally coming down through the foothills to the ruins of Brithombar. There, amidst the fallen stones and broken walls she espied the smithies and pits, and the siege engines left behind by the Glamhoth that had assailed Cirdan's people. Many had died here; friend and foe alike wiped forever from Middle Earth by the malice of Morgoth.

The way from Avernien to Mt. Taras ran for 125 leagues, and after passing through that scarred and wounded land Helluin's spirit cried out for peace. At her journey's end she stood on the strand, hearing the cries of wheeling gulls as they were the souls of those first lost in the crossing of the Helcaraxe, calling plaintively to her from the Halls of Mandos across the Sundering Sea. The land of Aman and the city of Tirion had been her home for 3,620 sun years and Eldamar was still home to her heart, for she had dwelt there in peace far longer than she had dwelt amidst the heartbreak of Middle Earth.

To Be Continued


	5. In An Age Before Chapter 5

**In An Age Before - Part 5

* * *

**

_Helluin Maeg-mormenel_**¹** was the Sindarin translation by which she was known in the Mortal Lands. Her father had chosen to name her for Helluin, likening her shocking blue eyes to the bright blue star that Varda had set in the old north as a challenge to Melkor ere the Eldar first awakened at Cuivienen. The more descriptive after-name her mother had created translated as "Piercing the Dark Heavens" and was a testament to the soul-arresting intensity of her glance, a cerulean gaze that fairly burned against the midnight black of her hair. Now that gaze turned inward as she stood pensive, reviewing the memories of her long life. Not for the first time Helluin asked herself why she had ever come back.

**¹**(**_Helluin_** blue star, (Sirius), **_Maeg_** (piercing) **_mor_** (dark) + **_menel_** (the heavens). Sindarin see Sil. App.)

She had been born amidst the Host of Finwe as they marched through Middle Earth from Cuivienen to Aman, which she had reached at the age of 230, reckoning in years of the sun though their time was yet to come. She recalled her early life under the stars, when they and the Quendi were young and every moment brought the wonder of some new discovery along the road. There had been so much to see and so many places to explore. Had the stars truly been so bright? Had the lands truly been so enticing?

One incident that she recalled now had been a vision that had come upon her in a forest east of the Blue Mountains, the Ered Luin. 'Neath ancient boles she had seemed to dream, and in her dream she had glimpsed a fell warrior, unsettlingly like in face unto herself though far, far older, armored and armed with bow and sword and a bright ring. The apparition had knelt at her side and stretched out a tentative hand. Surprisingly gentle, the touch was almost a caress of her cheek. They had stared at each other, face to face, and at last the warrior had visited a sad smile upon her ere she rose and vanished. It had been but one of many strange events in Middle Earth that remained yet unexplained, but in those moments she had felt a depth of connection, many orders of magnitude deeper than any other she had experienced. In its wake the bonds of friendship and kinship paled, and thou not less valuable, had been put upon a scale and by comparison measured in the depth of her spirit. And somewhere in those depths, unknown to her waking mind, she resolved to seek such connection again. But the host had moved on.

Though the march had taken centuries, there had never seemed to be enough time. Helluin had been tormented by the knowledge that uncounted mysteries were being left behind. There were vast lands she would never glimpse, wondrous creatures she would never see, foreign languages she would never learn, and myriad plants she would never understand. In the wake of her travel experiences, her imagination had run rampant. She had been constantly torn between looking ahead to what was next, and staring behind to see what had been missed.

With the Host of the Noldor she had come to the Undying Lands. There in Aman Helluin had dwelt, gaining in knowledge and power through the Age of the Trees. True to character, once there she'd immediately set about discovering its secrets. Seldom was she still in the first millennium of her life in Aman. From the heights of the Pelori in the east, to the shores of Ekkaia, the Outer Sea in the west she wandered, learning the shapes of the land. In the furthest west, past the Halls of Mandos, she came one day to the home of Nienna, a Valier even more solitary than herself, and from her windows Helluin looked beyond the Walls of Night. Indeed, Nienna became closer in friendship to Helluin than did any other in that time. The pair would often sit in a comfortable silence for days at a stretch, gazing beyond the boundaries of Ea and into the black void of the Eternal Night. And through Nienna, Helluin first made the acquaintance of the Maia, Olorin.

To the creatures in the Undying Lands she became familiar, trading tidings of the world with sea birds and the secrets of the deeps with porpoise and seal. With Nahar and his herd she spoke, though she neither hunt nor rode in Aman. Counsel she took with the Eagles of Manwe, meeting them high upon dizzying precipices in the Pelori that no other of the Eldar had explored. They, noble spirits of the air, honored her and brought her tidings, of the Teleri upon Tol Eressea when they arrived 'nigh the Undying Lands, and at times even of the Sindar still in Beleriand. They were the first to reveal to Helluin that the Host of Olwe had built ships and sailed at last from the Lonely Isle to Aman.

During those travels she was for the most part alone with her thoughts, but the Eldar gravitated to the companionship they found amongst others of their kind, and they had begun in Valinor a great work. While Helluin roamed as she had done in Middle Earth all her life, the Eldar raised the great hill of Tuna, and upon it built the fair city of Tirion.

When she, coming to the Calacirya after three centuries first saw the Elven City, she had been amazed. What had possessed her kind thusly, (she had wondered), to build such towers and edifices, so unnatural and self-congratulatory, fair and shapely though they were? She saw them as but imitations of Valmar, the city of the Valar, right down to the White Tree, Galathilion, created by Yavanna in the image of Telperion. Why bother with imitations when the real thing lay so near at hand all about? Helluin had shaken her head in consternation; the Eldar had aggrandized themselves with fine robes and gems, gold and silver, and had turned their focus inwards to themselves and their civilization. She had soon left Tirion and returned to her exploring, for she had found the city stifling.

In her attitudes, Helluin was an anachronism of sorts; she favored the works of those divine crafts she would never attain above any she might learn. What clever tracery wrought in silver or gold could approach the beauty of the patterns of frost upon a leaf? What cunningly shaped gem could compete with the sparkle in a squirrel's beady eye? In the Valar's creation of the natural world did Helluin ever find the greatest inspiration and awe; star and comet, cloud and rain, sky and sea, mountain and plain, these were her unclaimable treasures. To Helluin the works of Elven craft could in no way compete with the least of the olvar or the kelvar, for of Iluvatar these had the spark of life. No hand of the Eldar would ever bring to life a bird, darting and swooping on the wing, or singing its song while perched upon her finger. The most profound difference between Helluin and her people was her lack of the desire of possession. Naught did she crave to name unto herself alone, and little did she seek after a maker's pride in crafting.

In her second millennium in Aman she spent much time upon Corollaire**¹**, at the western gates of Valmar, basking in the Light of the Trees. There lay the Vats of Varda where were stored the shining silver dews of Telperion and the golden rains of Laurelin. The brilliant light of them went up to the heavens and lit the Undying Lands with their radience. Helluin found this display the penultimate wonder of wonders and couldn't stay away, returning thither again and again from her wanderings. Indeed Varda herself saw and indulged this behavior. In Helluin, the Valier discerned the preservation of the native wonder and awe of creation that had been at first the nature of all the Quendi. She thought it worthwhile that such honest reverence be preserved as the Eldar of Aman changed, and so she hindered not Helluin's comings to Ezellohar**¹**.

**¹**(**Corollaire, Ezellohar, _The Green Mound _**_or** Ever-Summer.**_ Quenya)

Never in all her life had Helluin felt such bliss as when she stood 'neath the Trees at the sixth and twelfth hours, letting their mingled droplets fall upon her naked body and coat her in radiant silver and gold. Although those dews would scorch forthwith any raiment she might have worn, by some blessing of the Valar she herself felt no discomfort from their heats. In those times visions came upon her, lifting her to soar so that she might see below her the wonders of Arda that drew her footsteps thither and yon. Perhaps the brilliance of the Two Trees wrought some change within her, for afterwards in times of great feeling her eyes would blaze with their own light, far in excess of their native habit. While many of the Calaquendi reflected the Holy Light in their eyes, but few among them projected their own radience. Of those that did, the illumination was invariably a _ril_**¹** of silver or gold. The blue fire that took life in Helluin's eyes was a characteristic that she shared with only one other, one exalted in all of Aman.

**¹**(**ril**, brilliance Quenya )

It was during her third millennium in Aman that Helluin met _Arandil_**¹** of the Vanyar, faithful liege of King Ingwe. She had returned to Tirion, intending to visit again with the Teleri, who had created many swan-prowed boats. At the Bay of Eldamar they had established Alqualonde, their city and the haven of their ships. She had stopped for sustenance in Tirion and to rest briefly from her travels ere she made her way thence to the coast. By some fate she had sat in a courtyard where music was played.

**¹**(**Arandil, _"Devoted to the King",_** **_Aran_ **(king) +** (-n)_dil_ **(one devoted to) Quenya)

In Tirion she heard the songs of Arandil, playing upon a harp of gold and singing praises to Varda for the gift of her stars. For the first time, Helluin felt that the value of those things learned in Tirion could rival those of the natural world she so loved. Arnadil's words painted fair pictures in her mind. Her heart was moved, and for the first time, Helluin knew love. For the first time she found herself craving the company of another, and reveling in the bliss that company could bring. She found him caring, compassionate, subtle, and wise. He found her direct, unspoiled, caring nothing for intrigues, and vigorous of spirit beyond any woman he had met. Aside from this, she was mesmerizingly beautiful, her hair pure black rather than golden or chestnut, her eyes blazing blue rather than sea grey. They shared the tender communion of couples, intimacies of touch, spirit, and glance. Many were the hours they spent in conversation or in silence together, or in the company of friends. And yet never did they marry, nor did they produce offspring of their union. Perhaps 'twas because each had already held in their hearts a deeper love.

Long she dwelt with Arandil, and in that time learned much that the Valar and the Maiar would teach. Through Arandil she met many in the Blessed Realm beyond those of the Noldor she had known. Many were the Vanyar she befriended, and many younger Noldor who had been born in Aman as well. She discovered that her king had sons and grandchildren. She also discovered that she had a younger brother, _Verinno_**¹**, and sister, _Elvearille_**²**, whom she came to love dearly.

**¹**(**Verinno,_ Bold Hearted,_ _Verya,_** root **ver- **(bold)+ **_-inno_** (of heart, gen. n.) Quenya) **²**(**Elvearille,_ Star Bright,_** **_Elvea_** (starlike) + **_rille_**(bright) Quenya)

From Arandil she acquired the warmth of heart towards others that had only been abstract before. Yet never did she lose her lust for exploring. That drive was only for a time given to acquiring knowledge and skills, rather than observation and travel. She was for the most part content, but beneath her contentment lived her need to see new sights and explore new places. In contrast, Arandil was wholly content in Aman. His joy came from serving his lord and the Valar. Eventually these basic differences brought about the sundering of Arandil and Helluin. She found herself needing to travel the lands beyond the city or to spend time in Alqualonde among the Teleri. And of course there were her pilgrimages up Taniquetil to Corollaire where stood the Two trees. Over time these excursions grew ever longer. Arandil never accompanied her and she eventually felt that a great part of herself and her world lay beyond the scope of their relationship. Over the years she grew to accept this. When it finally came, their parting was no surprise to her. Still, it was many centuries ere she left Tirion for good.

That parting came about with Melkor's attack that ended of the Age of the Trees. Arandil would never leave Aman or his king. Now, with only the light of the Varda's stars overhead, Helluin felt herself returned to the time of her youth. She saw that a chapter had ended. The old wanderlust was rekindled in her heart. Distant lands called and mysteries awaited her in Middle Earth. It was time to move on.

When the Noldor chose to accept exile and follow Feanor and his sons, she went with the host of Fingolfin, for she had been closest to the younger sons of Finwe, deeming the son of Miriel and his brood overbearing, overwillful, and abrasive. Fingolfin and Finarfin, the sons of Finwe's second wife, Indis, seemed more rational to her, and though perhaps less inspired, they made better company on the road. With her came her younger brother, Verinno, excited by her tales of the wide lands beyond the Sundering Sea.

The truth was that for all his talents, to Helluin, Feanor was a prideful hothead 690 years her junior. Maedhros, the eldest of his sons, was 1,350 years younger than she was. Even Prince Fingolfin was a pup to her; she was 800 years his senior. And then there was beautiful Galadriel, golden daughter of Finarfin, 2,520 years her junior, who seemed always puzzlingly abrupt with her. Not a one of them had ever stood on any ground outside of Aman. Not a single one had set foot in Middle Earth. And not a single one had lived in mortal lands during the Age of the Stars. She'd rolled her eyes as they'd spoken of breathing the free air beyond the cage of the Valar.

The oath Feanor and his sons had taken, to forsake all save recovery of the Silmarils and to exact vengeance on any who withheld them, was alarming to Helluin. Ever rash were Feanor and his sons, she'd thought. That in their folly they had named both the Valar and Iluvatar himself as witnesses should have sent her running in the opposite direction; still she had gone. She'd had her own reasons.

While they went seeking stolen treasure and vengeance and realms to rule, she'd gone seeking adventure, thinking that prepared as she was, she could explore Middle Earth under the familiar starlight for her curiosity's sake, as had been impossible on the long road from Cuivienen. Valinor under the Light of the Trees, inspiring as it had been, had felt somewhat like a party that had gone on too long, all merriment and excitement, and in the end, exhausting. The dark of night was more comforting to her mind and Varda's twinkling lights more soothing. She'd had little interest in dying to recover Feanor's baubles, though she wouldn't pass up a chance to use her sword against Melkor, the murderer of her lord Finwe, First High King of the Noldor. She was a warrior, but had ever counted herself an explorer first.

Now as she stood on the shore beneath Mt. Taras, Helluin had to wonder just what she'd been thinking. In hindsight she'd recognized her foolhardiness of centuries before. She'd really thought she was prepared. And while many of the Noldor, (and Feanor was the prime example), had spent their energies in learning most deeply of smithcraft, Helluin had explored a wide range of skills.

Forging and tempering she'd learned from Aule's people, hunting and unarmed combat from the Maiar of Orome and Tulkas, armed combat from Eonwe himself, tillage from those who served Yavanna, healing from Este, and from Irmo's Maia Olorin, pity, hope, and wisdom. Many decades she had spent with the Teleri, learning the practice of their shipcraft. Of all the Noldor, she was perhaps the widest ranging in her interests, and these skills she added to her native Eldarin gifts of speech and song. If popular tales remembered her not as the master of any craft, it is because so many prodigies had arisen among the Eldar, many of these were of noble birth, and Helluin spent great tracts of her time alone. Indeed it was because she spent so little time in socializing that she'd had the freedom to explore so many varied interests.

In Middle Earth her skills had been tested, but her goals had been lost in the bloodshed of conflict with the armies of Morgoth. She'd had precious little chance to explore, and in all her time under the sun and moon since she'd returned, she'd never even gotten out of Beleriand. She'd spent 600 years living out the consequences of Feanor's oath.

Yet still the bitterest event, the singular deed that had set her once and forever against the House of Feanor, had been the abandoning of the Host of Fingolfin upon the ice at the Helcaraxe. There Feanor had taken his host across the frigid waters in the stolen Teleri ships, and arriving at Losgar on the Firth of Drengist he had burned them, stranding the Noldor of Fingolfin. Long had the journey to Middle Earth been for those left behind, and great was their suffering in that frozen waste. For nearly thirty years of the sun they had struggled in the crossing. Many despaired and many died. And among these were Elenwe of Alqualonde, wife of Turgon, and Verinno, younger brother of Helluin.

In the wake of his passing she blamed herself scarcely less than Feanor, and a grim darkness had settled upon her that had never fully departed. In battle she loosed it on her enemies, yet in some window of her mind, it was at Feanor himself that she struck her blows ever after. In private she had toasted a cup of wine to the Valar when she'd heard that Gothmog had beaten him down before the gates of Angband, and that he had died upon the slopes of the Ered Wethrin. Feanor hadn't survived even a year in Middle Earth and now he was beyond her grasp, yet his seven sons remained, and for them she held scarcely less enmity. They would meet again someday. In Middle Earth there would be time.

Eventually Helluin tired of her morose train of thought and made her way inland. To the northwest of Mt. Taras lay the gate road of Vinyamar, and upon the mountain's terraces stood its halls. There in the southwestern corner of the deserted land of Nevrast, mansions and avenues once filled with Noldor and Sindar stood silent and empty save for the ghosts in her memories. Enveloped in those memories she climbed the wide stairs up to the high terraces of Vinyamar that overlooked the sea, and coming finally to the hall of Turgon she passed within its door. As in centuries past she paced that columned and echoing room, until she came at last before the throne upon its dais, which had sat so long empty of lord. There upon the wall behind, where once Turgon had left arms by the command of Ulmo, she saw the spear Tuor had left behind in token of his passing and the taking up of his errand to the Hidden King. But all was silent now, all deserted to wind and rain, and the ocean spray.

All of those whom she'd once known had followed Turgon to Gondolin; a third of the Noldor of Fingolfin had disappeared thither, and the Sindar of Nevrast with them, but now almost all had fallen. Had they remained in Vinyamar, Morgoth would perhaps have failed in his assault on the Falas, for his Glamhoth had traversed Hithlim and Nevrast enroute to West Beleriand, and many of the Gondolindrim had survived the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. They had still comprised a great host and their warriors would have driven the enemy into the sea just as Fingon had aforetime at the Firth of Drengist. Helluin thought that maybe this had been part of the intention of Ulmo when he had twice warned Turgon to abandon Gondolin. The warning of the Lord of the Waters had been delivered to Turgon himself in Vinyamar ere he came to the Hidden City, and again by Tuor when he came there from Nevrast. Yet Ulmo had bid Turgon make his way down Sirion to the sea, and Tuor had come to Gondolin years after the ravaging of the Falas, and so she had doubt. Perhaps the Vala had sought only to preserve Turgon's people to succor those from Doriath. To these questions she realized no answers would yet come. The warnings had not been heeded and Turgon was lost, the Falas was lost, and the curse of the Noldor had found them all, Noldor and Sindar alike. Though she'd sworn no oath, she too was caught in the doom of her people. In a fey moment she wished that the three gems would fall into the depths of the sea and the earth, or be flung from Endor high into the Void and there lie forever beyond the reach of Vala, Elf, or Man.

Long years Helluin dwelt alone in Nevrast, and she traveled that country from the Firth of Drengist to the Marshes 'nigh Linaewen, delighting in the company of the birds and beasts and her solitude. At times she ranged over the Ered Wethrin, even back into the Woods of Nuath that cloaked the foothills sloping down to West Beleriand if the notion took her, and it was there that she encountered a thing that stunned her.

She had been seated beside a small stream, softly singing to herself a song she'd learned in Valinor from Nienna's people, which spoke of loss over time and the falling away of the familiar as it was replaced by the new. It was a gentle lament of sorts, bittersweet and treading on the verges of becoming maudlin, but Helluin had always liked the tune. Now as she hummed, her voice was joined by an airy, breathy accompaniment as of a breeze passing through many branches in leaf, a beguiling sound unlike any voices of the kelvar**¹**. In curiosity she searched all about her, though she continued the song ere the effect disappear. Soon, after several refrains, she marked the slight swaying of the shrubs near the freshet, moving in time with the music and absent of any wind. She stared at them in amazement and when she silenced her voice, the voices of the shrubs continued on apace. Helluin rose to her feet and approached the shrubs, kneeling and peering close about them in wonder.

**¹**(**kelvar, _"quick ones", animals,_** as opposed to **olvar, _plants._** Quenya)

By the Valar, the shrubs had eyes! Helluin recoiled in shock and fell over backwards. The shrubs shook and crowded together about the bank, withdrawing from her. It seemed there was some number of them, quite various in form, as though they were a mixed bramble of twiggy selves trembling in a breeze. The eyes blinked at her as she sat on her backside, petrified in wonder. She couldn't tear her glaze from those eyes, so old and sad, and somewhat beady, but utterly devoid of malice. Somehow she felt a sympathy for them arise in her heart. She read their suffering over the slow passage of the years of their lives; in this she recognized kindred spirits, even in ones so strange.

"Wh-who might thou be, ye of kind unknown to my eyes and no less expected?" She whispered softly. She was never more shocked than when one among them answered.

"We art the mates of the _Onodrim_**¹**, but we hath lost our way," the shrub said in Quenya, though the vocabulary and construction were as antique as any Helluin had heard in Middle Earth since her return from Aman. The eyes blinked and looked at her sadly.

**¹**(**Onodrim, _Shepherds of the Trees,_** (coll. pl.) Sindarin**_ Ents_**(Westron) protectors of the Olvar created in the Song by Yavanna, Goddess of Growing Things. Sil; Valaquenta, Ch.2, OAaY, pgs. 39-42.)

"The People of the Trees," Helluin whispered, remembering. "How came thee hither?"

Long, long ago, as the Host of Finwe marched west, still beyond the Misty Mountains far to the east, some of the Elven host had reported having met and held converse with tall wards of the forest, mighty creatures who safeguarded the olvar at Yavanna's wish. Many of the Noldor doubted such an unlikely thing could be. Helluin had never seen them with her own eyes, for in the twilit forest they were invisible unless they moved, and they moved only to approach. She recalled that those who had met them had taught them the Elven speech and learned somewhat of the speech of the Onodrim, but it was long-winded, sonorous, and ill-suited to verse or song. Few among the Noldor had learned it.

"Long wanderings hath we made, and into many lands hath we traveled and slowly," the shrub explained, "and we hath approached none amongst the kelvar, for they hath become enamoured of warfare and fire and…chopping. Somewhere along the way we hath lost our way, and we hath lost our mates. Hath thou seen aught of them, the Guardians of the Trees?"

Helluin thought on their words. Beleriand was consumed in war, and for olvar such as these, and indeed all others, the lands were unsafe. She had heard no accounts of any meeting the Onodrim, and had honestly forgotten until that moment even their existance.

"Nay, none of thy kind hath I or any I know seen since an age ago and far to the east. In the Age of the Stars, on the westward road, once some of my people chanced to meet some of thine. Yet since that time even the knowledge of thy people hast faded in memory and was even at the first thought by many to be but a fancy, or flight of the imagination, or perhaps a trick of light and shadow in the starlight 'neath the trees."

"Then thou hath seen none of our people nor heard tidings of our mates?" The shrub asked sadly. "Why oh why did we wander off, always seeking some new land, some more fruitful garden, and drawn for some reason ever west as if driven by a wind across this Middle Earth?"

It was by intention a rhetorical question, yet Helluin perceived that in their hearts, as in the hearts of all that had some good within them, there lived a compulsion to seek for the western shores, and thence the Undying Lands, where dwelt the Blessed Powers of Aman. That longing, which had drawn the Eldar across the Hither Lands, had also called to the hearts of the Guardians of Trees and their spouses, though the Guardians perhaps felt their calling to guard the forests the stronger, while their mates felt more strongly the call of the west. 'Twas a sad tale of a people sundered, and she wondered if the Valar knew this outcome of their works in Mortal Lands. She shook her head to clear it.

"Nay none of thy people hath I met save thou alone," Helluin sadly told the shrub, "yet if ever I should lay eyes upon any of thy kind I shalt tell them of thy wanderings and that I saw thee here. I am sorry, but 'tis the best I can do."

The shrub seemed almost to nod to her in resignation, but after a silence that stretched on apace, it asked, "Would thou continue thy song? In the melody and the words we felt some solace and some power that we hath never felt in these lands. Whence came such a tune? We would learn it and others if thou would but teach us."

And so Helluin spent many days teaching the Entwives the songs of Valinor, and she spoke long with them of the Undying Lands, and they in their turn spoke of their journeys in Middle Earth. Indeed, it took long to hear their stories, for such was the compaction of details they wove about the plots, that even her Elven patience at times became frayed. Yet still she was loath to abandon them while the opportunity lasted, and so in their days together she sang many songs and learned much lore, and the longing to explore the wide lands of Middle Earth was rekindled in her heart.

Many nights she envisioned the faraway places of which the olvar spoke, and these often mingled with the memories of the past. And on the nights when Tilion hid Isil's face and the sky was dark, she reveled in the light of the stars. Then almost she could imagine herself the first of the Eldar to have awakened, yet in place of the gentle lapping of the mere of Cuivienen, she heard the waves rolling strong on the shores of Belegaer, the Sundering Sea. _No summons from the Valar would come again_, she sadly thought, _and no road now lies west to Aman save that of death._

Yet upon just such a night, when the waves and the calling of the sea filled her ears, the Lord Ulmo came to her as if in a dream, and he spoke to her with great urgency.

"Get ye thither, back to Avernien," he commanded. "Great evil lies afoot for the people of Earendil and Elwing at the hands of the sons of Feanor. Again the curse arises to kinslaying over the Silmarils, yet coming there, thou may be able to aid in the doom that is appointed. Hasten thou hence, for time is short."

And Helluin, who had from the first revered the wisdom of the Valar, took his words to heart and replied. "Unlike my lords I shalt hearken to thy bidding, for oft enough hath I seen the misery that follows such words unheeded. And if it lies within my power to avert even in some small measure the fruit of the curse, than so shalt I turn my steps south." _And woe be to the sons of Feanor should our paths cross in battle_, she thought, _for still I owe that family blood._

Ere Anar rose in the morning Helluin was on her way south from Vinyamar, and she traversed the lands of the Falas as one pursued, crossing Brithon and Nenning. Though the way led 125 leagues, little shy of the length of Sirion from head to mouth, still she traveled it in but nine days. Then coming at last from the Birchwoods of Nimbrethil she saw fire on the coast, for Avernien lay already under attack.

_By the Valar, not again_, her heart cried out ere the bloodlust took her. Yet only one among the Valar had raised his hand to avert this tragedy, and she was his hammer. But this time Helluin had come to the battle while it still raged, as she had not at Alqualonde all those centuries before. And here yet another seafaring people dear to her heart stood assailed by the House of Feanor. Her rage exploded and the blue fire flared in her eyes.

In that battle Helluin slew Noldor and Sindar, shedding the blood of kin at last. The remaining sons of Feanor, Maedhros and Maglor, Amras and Amrod had come to take the Silmaril that Beren and Luthien had once cut from the very crown of Morgoth, freeing its Holy Light from the black pits of Angband. Now upon the quays at Avernien Helluin wielded the black sword Anguirel, and gratefully did it drink the blood of the Noldor of the House of Feanor. There she felled the brethren Amras and Amrod, hewing them unmercifully, for she judged them vicious pups who'd partaken in the murder of children, Elurin and Elured, the sons of Dior, left to die in the woods of Doriath by their brother Celegorm's servants. With her back to the sea she fought, and well 'nigh a hundred fell to Anguirel in that hour, for she unleashed the bloodlust that had raged unchecked in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Soon none would face her and they fled before the blue fire blazing from her eyes, yet she could not be in all places at once.

Now Earendil was upon the sea, though she knew it not, and for him Helluin searched, and for Elwing as well. But neither did she find, nor their sons, Elrond and Elros, whom Maedhros captured but allowed to live, for he alone so far had repented of the slaying of Dior's sons in Doriath. Still, had they met in battle she would have slain him and Maglor as well, for in that hour she was full sick of the oath, the curse, and the sons of Feanor. Had she never heard of the Silmarils she would have counted herself far happier for it.

In the waning of the fight, when those who could had fled aboard ship from Avernien and the sails of Cirdan and the High King Gil-galad were seen approaching in aid, the last sons of Feanor withdrew their army and fled. But in that moment, Helluin saw a thing wondrous with hope. There, stealing west above the waves moved a radiant light in the form of a sea bird swiftly flying, a shining beacon leaving Middle Earth for Aman. Long she watched until it passed beyond her sight, making its course to and fro as though searching the sea, yet heading ever west. And in her heart a feeling she didn't understand arose, and a rhyme unbidden she whispered as a prayer without hearing her own words:

_Starlight, star-bright,_

_Fairest star I see tonight,_

_I pray the passage of thy flight,_

_Brings thee to Aman this night._

Later she heard the tales of how Elwing had in desperation flung herself upon the waves bearing the Silmaril, and how some had seen her borne up over the water as a great gull, star bright. Then Helluin and Gil-galad and Cirdan stood looking west in wonder, and despite all the death and the ruin of Avernien, she held the summons of Ulmo fulfilled, for Earendil and Elwing had escaped and the flight of Elwing sang of destiny. One thing only remained to her mind, and taking her leave of the High King, she made known her intention to find, if possible, the _Peredhil_ or Half-elven, the sons of Earendil and Elwing, and rescue them from Maedhros and Maglor whom she trusted not at all.

"May the Blessing of the Valar be upon thee in thy quest," Gil-galad said in parting.

But Helluin replied, "No Blessing shalt the Valar grant to a Noldo in Middle Earth, for like all others, kin of Feanor or not, willingly did I go into exile in defiance of them."

"Yet thou hast done Ulmo's bidding here," Cirdan the Shipwright said.

"But Ulmo makes not our doom," she said, "and in Middle Earth, doom hath most often come at the point of a sword."

"And so it shalt continue apace, it seems," Gil-galad sighed. Then looking into Helluin's ancient eyes he asked, "Tell me of Aman the Blessed for which I yearn yet hath never seen save in hopes and dreams." For he had been born in Beleriand scarcely 200 years before, and his father, Fingon son of Fingolfin had sent him to dwell with Cirdan and the Sindar of the Falas when he had still been young.

But Helluin replied, "Thou shalt see Aman, O King, though perhaps it be only from the Halls of Mandos beyond this life's end. Give my regards then to Amrod and Amras should thou meet them ere I do." And so saying she took her leave and made her way north.

Now Helluin went from the mouths of Sirion and she tracked the remnant of the host that followed Maedhros and Maglor. These were much diminished, for many had been slain and no few had abstained from the battle, refusing at the last to bear arms against the survivors of Gondolin and Doriath. She crossed Sirion behind them above the delta at its mouths, dogging their footsteps in stealth. Through the south of East Beleriand they marched, making for the dense forests of Taur-Im-Duinath, there to lose any pursuit, and thence she expected, east to the River Gelion between the tributaries Brilthor and Legolin. There they would turn north, making their way through Ossiriand to Thargelion and then to the gap between the Hill of Himring and Mt. Rerir where in the past they had made their homes during the Siege of Angband.

Four days out the company passed beneath the trees of Taur-Im-Duinath. Following them came Helluin, silent as a shadow and wary. Despite the woodscraft of the Sindar who had joined them, none discovered her presence. Then in the evening of the seventh day as they traversed that forest, all saw a sight of wonder, for blazing into the western sky came a shining light, ascending from Aman in glory. It was the first rising of _Vingilot_**¹**, the ship of Earendil, voyaging with the blessing of the Valar to sail the sea-roads of the heavens. Amazed were Maedhros and Maglor, knowing that light for what it was…the Silmaril that had escaped them. No less amazed was Helluin, and recognizing it as the same light that had burned as Elwing fled Avernien, she felt the coming of some great doom, for that light could only have been lofted on high by the grace of the Valar. One at least of the gems was safe forever in the element of air. In the twisted woods of Taur-Im-Duinath, Helluin rejoiced. The prayer she had whispered on the shore at Avernien had been answered, and it echoed the prayers of many in Middle Earth. In her heart she felt satisfaction, for whatever was to come, she had played some small part in that destiny at Ulmo's bidding.

**¹**(**Vingilot,_ "Foam Flower",_ **carried **Earendil** to Aman, and then across the heavens as the evening and morning star; the planet, _Venus._ Quenya)

Now the journey went on, and being one against an army, Helluin gave thought as to how she might waylay the sons of Feanor and free Elrond and Elros. She had come very close to the host, close enough to see their campfires at night and smell the cooking of their food. Time ran against her, for she knew that sooner or later, whether through some fault of hers or luck of theirs, or by some trick of fate, she would be discovered. Worse than this, once they entered Ossiriand, she would be in the country of the Laiquendi, the Green Elves, and none in Middle Earth so excelled at stealth or exceeded their mastery of woodscraft. She knew them not, but long had the sons of Feanor dwelt nigh their lands and had come among them, and Helluin suspected they were in league still and would turn on her. She felt the need to force the confrontation while they still walked in Taur-Im-Duinath, and with every step she pondered how to make it so.

Yet as oft occurs, the decision was taken from her by fate, for nigh the eastern edge of the forest, the Elven company was surrounded and engaged by an army of Yrch larger than itself who had been ordered to assault the Eldar of Avernien. During the years of her absence in Vinyamar many spies had roamed the lands south of Nan Tathren, both those of the sons of Feanor and those of Morgoth the enemy. Now under cover of night they attacked those who had before been the attackers.

Helluin heard the battle open and raced forward through the dark, for now the peril of the Peredhil had increased unacceptably. Yet when she came to the battle she saw a thing unexpected, for there at bay stood Maglor, sword in hand, shielding the sons of Earendil against the onslaught of the Yrch. At their back stood Maedhros, wielding his sword in his deadly left hand, a cup-hilted dagger lashed to the stump of his right. The Peredhil too were armed, Elros with a bright longsword, and Elrond bearing the fell, double-bladed axe she had seen his grandfather carry for so many years. For a moment she stood in amazement, for the sons of Feanor fought with all the viciousness of parents protecting their young. The moment lasted but heartbeats before she moved against the Yrch, for no enemy brought together those at odds faster than the agents of Morgoth.

In her hand the black sword sang, rejoicing to spill the blood of the Orch soldiers. It clove through armor and flesh with but a whisper, and many were the enemies that fell before her wrath in that hour. Helluin hewed them without mercy, for no mercy could any of the Noldor find for the creations of Morgoth Bauglir. Through them she fought her way to the sons of Feanor, and she planted her feet beside them, as unlikely a thing as any she could have imagined. Then though the battle raged until the rising of the sun, none came close enough to threaten the sons of Earendil and Elwing that night. Finally as Arien lofted the vessel of Anar into the heavens, the last Orch was slain, and so no news came north to the enemy from the mouths of Sirion.

In the aftermath there were moments of awkwardness and uncertainty. Maedhros and Maglor had received aid in battle from the one who had slain their brothers, Amrod and Amras, and vengeance should have ruled their hearts, yet both were tired of vengeance. They'd seen Helluin's battle prowess and the mastery of her swordplay with Anguirel. She had certainly come to avenge the dead of Avernien and rescue the Peredhil. And yet she had slain uncounted numbers of their enemies, and now both brothers were daunted by the intensity of her ancient blue eyes. For her part, Helluin had seen the earnestness with which the brothers had defended their captives, and she perceived with the acuity she'd gained from Olorin in Aman that indeed they had come to love their young captives. Unexpectedly, it seemed that common purpose ruled their actions. Finally she sighed, weary in heart if not in body from the fighting.

"Why did thou take them?" Helluin asked, indicating the Peredhilwith a glance.

The sons of Feanor looked to each other and Maedhros answered, suddenly uncertain, "Because we could, I suppose…it seemed a wise course at the time."

"And what will thou do with them?"

"At first we had thought to hold them to ransom the Silmaril, yet now that gem seems beyond the grasp of any in Middle Earth," Maglor reasoned. "And truth be told, I am sick at heart of all that hast been done in desire of them and for fulfillment of our father's oath." He glanced at Elrond and Elros. "Now at last my heart is turned to their plight; their home is destroyed, their people dead or scattered, and their parents gone. We cannot bring them back and we will not abandon them."

Here Maedhros looked away, the first of the brothers to feel guilt over the treatment of the sons of Dior. Though bound till death by the oath, it had achieved only ill and the killing had become too much.

"Nay, never shalt we abandon them," he declared softly, "for having taken them from their homes in our madness, so now we must fulfill for them what their parents would hath done."

"Shallow substitute to their hearts though it be," Maglor added with remorse, "it seems the only right course that we offer to them our hearts and the strength of our arms. As princes of our own house they shalt be."

Helluin weighed their words and knew they spoke the truth of their hearts. She could no more refute their intentions than slay them now. What could she do for the Half-elven better than what the sons of Feanor proposed? Through the madness of the oath and the working of the curse, some courses became right though all sense would dictate otherwise. Still she would not trust blindly.

"I think I shalt join thy company and travel north," she said, "I hath always desired to visit Ossiriand and see the Mountains Beyond the Land of Song. Traveling together would be safer for all involved should more Yrch appear along the road."

Maedhros and Maglor nodded in agreement. Another warrior of her caliber would add to their chances of returning home alive with their new wards. So it was decided that Helluin would join the sons of Feanor on their march to Thargelion. She only hoped that she could stand the company.

For two weeks the company made their way north, crossing the River Gelion and passing through Ossiriand. But the land lay silent; no Elven song disturbed the watchful quiet. Not until they came 'nigh the River Ascar did they see any of the Laiquendi, though all suspected that a watch had been kept over their march. The meeting occurred in the evening, when between one blink and the next a figure appeared at the edge of their fire. It was a tall Elf, a Lord of the Laiquendi, clad all in greens, though these seemed to vary in hue and gave the illusion of foliage shifting through fire light and shadow in a breeze. He rose to his feet as if a drift of leaves was forming a figure by some glamour or device of enchantment. Over one shoulder he bore a bow, a quiver was at his back, and a long knife was sheathed in his belt. The Noldor could only stare at him as though he were an apparition until he spoke.

"Greetings Maedhros and Maglor, sons of Feanor, what tidings from the south?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged uncomfortably.

"A moon ago thou traveled this land in haste with greater host, and return with three who came not with thee then," he continued. "Now many hath been lost and a new star rises. We hath heard rumor of battle and the sacking of Avernien. Whither now, sons of Feanor?" He smirked at them, obviously already knowing the answer.

Helluin stood and spoke, having more curiosity and less guilt than the others.

"I am Helluin, an explorer of the Host of Finwe, and of late, a warrior in the service of the House of Turgon. Here returning from the sack of Avernien is the company of the House of Feanor, and with them go Elrond and Elros, sons of Earendil the Mariner and Elwing, daughter of Dior, Thingol's Heir of Doriath. We march north to Thargelion, and by thy leave would hath safe exit from thy lands."

He regarded her with an appraising grin for some time as he weighed her words. He detected no lie and no subterfuge. It was…refreshing. The border of Ossiriand lay not a league north beyond the Ascar.

"Helluin of the Host of Finwe, thou art a stranger to these lands," he said, looking her in the eye. She inclined her head a small degree in agreement. "We hath heard of the Fall of Gondolin and thou hath our sympathies. All enemies of the Great Enemy hath suffered, whether one dwell in a city hidden or open in the woods. Thou art welcome to pass these lands." Here Helluin nodded to him in thanks and his attention passed to Maedhros and Maglor in turn. "Thou hast had but mixed success I see," he chided, "and I feel many lives hath been lost, yet that which was sought hast eluded thy grasp yet again. For thy past stance against the evil of the north thou hath our thanks and safe passage as always, but no aid for the achievement of thy oath. Go in peace and in memory of thy brothers whom we do not see amongst thee."

"The tale is as thou hast said," Maglor answered, "and we tire of the fruitless quest. Were we able now, my brother and I would take back our rash words in Aman, yet by our oath we art bound. Pity us if thou will, for we art sick at heart and tired. We go now to stand again against the Great Enemy."

The Green Elf nodded in understanding and Helluin read the pity in his eyes. Though great lords of the Noldor were the sons of Feanor, she saw that for him, no treasure held the value of freedom and a heart unbound. In some ways he reminded her of herself, in the earlier days of her migration west from Cuivienen and the wonder and absorption she had felt walking free in the woods under the stars. Yet for both she and he that joy had been tempered by long labors in Middle Earth and the heartbreak of war.

Last the Green Elf turned to Elrond and Elros, and though they were but youths among the Eldar, he knelt on one knee and bowed his head to them. They looked at him, startled and confused.

"I would know thee by thy arms had no words been said, for is that not _Aranruth_**¹**,which King Thingol bore aforetime?" He asked, nodding to the scabbard at Elros' side. "All my people honor thee, sons of Elwing, daughter of Dior, son of Luthien, daughter of Elu Thingol and Melian the Blessed. Long did thy ancestors in Doriath hold back the evil. Luthien the Fair and Beren son of Barahir lived amongst us on Tol Galen, and we were honored by their presence. Thou hast our service at need in memory of them."

**¹**(**Aranruth**, sword of King Thingol of Doriath was passed down to Elwing, and finally came with Elros to Númenor, where it became an heirloom of the king's house, along with the Axe of Tuor, Bregor's Bow, and most importantly in the Third Age, the Ring of Barahir. -UT, Pt. 2, Ch. I, ADotIoN, Note 2, pg. 171.)

"I…I th-thank thee," Elros mumbled, taken aback by the honor done them. Beside him, Elrond nodded in surprise and the Green Elf rose to his feet.

"My heart betides the coming change of many things," he declared in prophecy. "Not long now will Middle Earth wait, for the rise of Gil-Estel**¹** is a sign, and as that star comes forth from the west, so too shalt the Powers Undying come at last to wrest justice for those who suffer in these Hither Lands. Go thou north to battle and keep faith."

**¹**(**Gil-Estel, _"Star of Hope"_**, epithet for Earendil. Sindarin)

In the blink of an eye he disappeared, and as they strove to mark his passage, all the surrounding woods came alive with a subtle shifting and flutter of motion as the Host of the Laiquendi lessened their stealth and withdrew. Hundreds had stood unseen within earshot and the Noldor had never perceived them until they had allowed a hint of themselves to be seen. Helluin hid a smile of admiration for their woodscraft; no doubt the Green Elves had dogged their footsteps all the days of their march and each of them had stood with an arrow reserved for them while they'd talked. She realized that though she'd committed his face to memory, she'd never learned his name. _Well, life is long,_ she thought, _and perhaps we shalt meet again somewhere, someday._

To Be Continued


	6. In An Age Before chapter 6

**In An Age Before - Part 6

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**Chapter Four**

_**Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

The form of the world was changed. Helluin stood on the eastern slopes of the Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains, also called the Ered Lindon by the Noldor, the Mountains Beyond the Land of the Singing. But Ossiriand, where the music of the Green Elves had once laced the forests with song lay mostly silent now, it's seven rivers lost in the passing of the First Age of the Sun. Now but a narrow remnant of that land clung to the western faces of the Ered Luin and the Elves called it Harlindon, the Southern Land of Song. Likewise the unsunken eastern precinct of Thargelion now bore the name Forlindon, the Northern Land of Song. It was just wishful thinking and longing for the past, something Helluin had found the Eldar often indulged in. Yet they were greatly attached to these remaining tracts of Beleriand in which they had so long dwelt and fought.

Now settlements in the two Lindons were home to Gil-galad and Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel, their daughter Celebrian, Galdor, and Cirdan of the Falas. With the remaining Eldar of Beleriand they labored to raise a new kingdom. Indeed, most tales remember their land simply as Lindon, while most of their few songs in those days were laments and requiems for the dead. Yet the two Lindons had each their identity. In Harlond dwelt Cirdan the Ship-Wright, though his havens of Mithlond lay at the gulf's head. With him upon the southern bank of the Gulf of Lhun were Galdor and many Sindar from the Falas, who had come there after the whelming of the Isle of Balar. Also there amongst his kindred dwelt Celeborn, a prince of the Sindarin realm of Doriath, and for love of him his wife, Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin of the Noldor. In Forlond ruled Ereinion Gil-galad, son of Fingon, son of Fingolfin, the High King of the remaining Noldor, and in his company stayed Elrond, and many others of the Host of Finwe. Upon the water of the gulf went many boats, to and fro, knitting together the two settlements into a single greater realm in memory of what was forever lost.

Beleriand was indeed gone, sunk beneath the waves in the breaking of the world. The War of Wrath had ended but the changes remained. Very nearly every place where Helluin and the Noldor had lived and fought had been destroyed utterly in the overthrow of Morgoth and the Fall of Angband. She had scarcely completed the journey to Thargelion with the sons of Feanor when the entire south country had rung with the trumpets of the Valar. The night sky had glowed with the light of their campfires, and reflections from the sheen of their armor had lit the undersides of the clouds. They were still landing troops as their vanguard marched north up Sirion, so numerous that the whole of Beleriand had echoed with the marching of their boots.

When she'd followed the sons of Feanor back to Middle Earth, almost all of the Noldor had started on that journey. It had still been a vast host even after Finarfin and his people turned back, though perhaps two-thirds of those remaining, herself included, had followed Fingolfin rather than Feanor. Now the coming of the Valar made that host seem like a company. Along with the Powers of Arda had come their Maiar, the Vanyar, (those Eldar of the Host of Ingwe), and the Noldor of Finarfin. They had been joined in Middle Earth by the Edain, the survivors of the three houses of mortal Men known as the Elf-Friends, and by Thorondor with his cadres of Eagles.

Those remaining _Eledhrim_ of Beleriand, Noldor and Sindar alike, had looked on from Thargelion and Ossiriand in amazement. For all the battles they had waged during centuries of war, the Army of the West put their glory to shame. Being still under the Curse and the Doom of Mandos, none of the Noldor had even dared approach while the War of Wrath raged. For weeks they had stared from the western eaves of the Ered Luin as lightning rent the sky and blows rumbled like thunder through the earth. The very air sizzled with the clash of the powers, for while many fought with weapons forged of steel, the principals fought with the pure force of the Imperishable Flame. By then, the Laiquendi had fled beyond the Blue Mountains in terror.

(**Eledhrim, _Elven Folk eledh_** elf(ar.) + **_-rim_ **(coll. pl.) Sindarin, archaic)

Helluin had climbed to the heights of Mt. Rerir and the violence she'd seen from that high place still haunted her waking dreams. It had not been war as she knew it. In her experience, lightning did not arc from the hands of warriors to their targets and mountains did not explode at a word. Balls of fire did not shriek down from the heavens in rapid pulses, nor did chasms open across leagues of plains in response to a song of power. Spectral forms the size of mountains had walked the nights, and with a gesture turned the bodies of Yrch, Tor, and Uruloki inside out, so that they died writhing in a wet and muffled agony. It had been little wonder that Morgoth had hidden in his own dungeons rather than come out to fight. The living walls of flame that had swallowed the Balrogs whole would alone have sent Helluin running. It was naught but holy genocide. Yet the crowning insanity she'd witnessed had come after the battle ended.

(**Tor, _Trolls,_** pl. Sindarin)

After Morgoth was bound and dragged, whimpering and gibbering for mercy from his fortress as a prisoner of the Valar, the Silmarils were taken and guarded by Eönwë. Then the Herald of Manwë proclaimed that the Eldar of Beleriand should come forth and return thence to Aman, for they were pardoned and the Valar would summon them home to Tol Eressea. Many of the Noldor and Sindar went thither, glad to sail at last to the Blessed Realm after enduring the heartbreak of Mortal Lands. It was then that Helluin had overheard Maedhros and Maglor plotting to steal into the camp under pretense of heeding the summons, and filch the gems, for they were still driven by their father's oath. It was madness and she'd attempted to dissuade them.

"They shalt catch thee and turn thee inside out with a gesture of three fingers," she'd told them, "saw thou not what befell the Tor?"

"We hath been doomed to fail from the day we spoke our oath," Maedhros had responded in resignation, "and try or try not we cannot hide from our doom."

"So thou intend to attempt this deed even knowing full well thou cannot succeed?"

"We hath been doing nothing less for the last 600 years, even if at the start we knew it not," Maglor had said, shaking his head. "Failure and death art our appointed lot. For what 'tis worth, I should be loath to add craven." Yet he would be the only brother to survive, if but to voice his lamentations in song.

They had left that evening, taking the Peredhil with them to appear the more convincing, and Helluin had shaken her head and begun her journey east. All her arguments were for naught and there was nothing further she could do. At least the sons of Earendil and Elwing would be safe in the Valar's camp, and soon, she expected, sailing for Aman. In this appraisal, she was perhaps half correct.

In three days she had crossed the Ered Luin to the east of Mt. Rerir, and descended into the land which lay between the upper branches of the River Lhun. 80 leagues downstream that river fed into the Gulf of Lhûn, a new feature of the land derived from the sinking of that segment of Ossiriand that had lain betwixt the rivers Ascar and Thalos. There a gap of 18 leagues had been gouged through the mountains; separating Forlindon from Harlindon with seawater that flowed for nearly 70 leagues inland. From the heights of the Ered Luin, her Elven sight had revealed the sunsparkle on distant water where none had been ere the War of Wrath. Her eyes reported the same to the west for as far as she could see. Yes, truly Beleriand was gone 'neath the waves, and now Belegaer, the Sundering Sea, lay over it. Finally she had turned and begun her descent down the eastern walls of the Ered Luin.

Helluin went with eyes wide open in curiosity of these lands that she had never seen. On their journey west from Cuivienen long ago, the host of the Noldor had passed over the Ered Luin to the south of where she now stood, 'nigh on were Nogrod was delved, and near where she deemed the Gulf of Lhûn now lay. Indeed the breaking of the Ered Luin had also shattered the halls of _Gabilgathol_ and _Tumunzahar_, Belegost and Nogrod, the mansions of the Dwarves, and though some few remained in Gabilgathol, many refugees now traveled east to Durin's Halls in Khazad-dum. But this northern land was unknown to Helluin, and after six centuries of battle in Beleriand, she was finally free of the curse of Feanor that had shackled the Noldor, and at last she could explore. She hadn't felt such pure, simple joy in walking the world since before coming to Aman.

Now Eriador was a land of green, of gentle hills and growing things, and lazy rivers slow in their courses; a land for the most part like a rippled plain, lying cradled between the Blue Mountains and the Hithaeglir, the Towers of Mist. She remembered this land as forest, but the trees had withdrawn during the last two Ages of the world, leaving only patches of deeper woods. She recalled crossing the towering Misty Mountains whose intimidating peaks were ever snow-capped, sharp, and pierced the clouds. Helluin was in no hurry to come thither again, and so she roamed many years in Eriador.

During that time she even came to Mithlond on the Gulf of Lhûn, meeting Cirdan the Shipwright, Celeborn of Doriath, Galadriel, the daughter of Finarfin, whom she hadn't seen in many hundreds of years, and most surprisingly, Elrond. Helluin was little less than amazed that they had stayed in Middle Earth. At this time she learned that Galadriel and Celeborn had finally married after being a couple for centuries. They now had a daughter who was in Forlond at the king's court. Helluin wished them well. Despite a strange rivalry in Aman, she'd always appreciated Galadriel's strength of will, knowing that the princess' inspiration had been beneficial in crossing the Helcaraxe. During her visit, she'd also learned somewhat of the choices of the Peredhil following the War of Wrath.

"So Elrond, why hath thou remained in Middle Earth? And where is Elros?" She had asked. He had seemed daunted, or perhaps overwhelmed. At first she suspected that some ill had come upon them, perhaps because they'd accompanied Maedhros and Maglor to the Valar's camp after the war. But the truth was even more appalling.

"After Adar and Naneth sailed to Aman we were given a choice in deciding our fates. Elros clove to our father's people," Elrond told Helluin, "and I to the people of our mother. Now he hast gone to Númenórë, the land that the Valar prepared for the Edain…far across the water…gone…"

(**Adar, _Father,_** and **Naneth,_ Mother_**, in this case, Earendil and Elwing. Sindarin)

_And far beyond the water will his spirit one day go_, Helluin realized,_ beyond the borders of the world where go the spirits of Men who have died_._ Gone forever! _The parting of the Half-Elven was a parting of brothers that would last until the End of Arda. Now they were truly Half-Elven; one of the twain Eldalië and the other mortal. No wonder Elrond seemed dazed. She had put a hand on his shoulder and given it a squeeze, but there had been little she could say to comfort him. He had looked at her for a moment and then stuttered in a cracking voice, "I…I even gave him leave to take grandfather's axe…"

Helluin realized that Elrond had kept nothing of his family or his life in Beleriand but his memories. _Just like the Eldar,_ she thought, _to keep naught of the past but memories, and those as much a torment as comfort. _Dramborleg had gone with Aranruth to become heirlooms of Númenor.

Watching her brother Verrino dying slowly for weeks upon the ice of the Helcaraxe had been unbearable for Helluin. It had brought forth a darkness in her that most of the Eldar didn't understand. Now Elrond would spend centuries imagining his brother dying far slower still. Such was the life of Iluvatar's Younger Children, and Helluin couldn't imagine why anyone would choose it willingly. The surcease of suffering that death brought might appeal to some of the Eldar, at least philosophically, for no few Elves had died of broken hearts, but Helluin had sublimated her suffering into a terrifying battle rage instead of allowing it to unceasingly eat at her. Only rarely was the Life of the Eldar not a thing she reveled in…and at those times she sank into memories and sang maudlin songs. Being a loner had made bearing both her sorrows and her bloodlust easier.

Now in the early years following the War of Wrath, the land of Eriador was for the most part at peace. Here, though Eastern Men sometimes ranged in small raiding bands, they were disorganized and few, just a tithe of those who had come to aid Morgoth in the wars of Beleriand. Most of their kin had fled far beyond the Misty Mountains through the gap between the Hithaeglir and the Ered Nimrais, the White Mountains. The predominant tribes of Men in Eriador were distant cousins of the Elf Friends, mostly Men who had never entered Beleriand, but came of the same beginnings. They were peaceful but few and possessed little knowledge, and they suffered much in their ignorance. Yet over the years, Helluin found them courageous and stalwart at need, and among them she marked many with golden hair and light eyes whose color was sometimes green or a pale imitation of her own blue. Surely these bore some kinship to the House of Hador, she thought, and so could be both honorable and fierce. In addition there were some, fewer still in numbers, who were dark of hair and eye, tall and strong, and these she found derived from the people of Beor who had followed Beleg back over the Ered Luin out of Beleriand. Of Yrch, Trolls, and creatures more fell there was scarcely a rumor and no sightings could be confirmed. With the fall of Angband, Morgoth's minions were either destroyed or had hidden in terror, and they troubled none.

Through Eriador, Dwarves made their way east as has been said, in a migration from ruined Nogrod and Belegost, back to the ancient mansions of Khazad-dum, Hadhodrond the Dwarrowdelf, that was afterwards called Moria, the Black Chasm. Also traveling those lands were wandering companies of Elves of the kindreds of the Laiquendi, or of the Sindar of Beleriand, and even a few others of the Noldor, who like herself had remained in Middle Earth.

Perhaps the singular group not represented in Eriador during the Second Age of the Sun were men of the three Houses of the Edain. Indeed all of those still living had answered the summons of the Valar and had removed themselves from the Hither Lands to a new home made for them in reward for their valor through many lifetimes as enemies of Morgoth. This land was known by many names; in Quenya, Andor, the Land of Gift, Elenna or Starwards, commemorating the star, Gil-Estel, Earendil's Vingilot, which they followed to their new island home. In their own tongue, Adûnaic, the Edain called this land Anadûnê, Westernesse, which was translated in Quenya as Númenórë. It lay midway between the western shores of Middle Earth and the Elvenhome of Tol Eressea, that island that stands 'nigh Valinor itself. It would be six centuries ere a descendant of the Edain again set foot in the Hither Lands.

For over a hundred and thirty years of the sun Helluin traveled in Eriador. During that time she became known again to the Eldar of Lindon and anew to the Men of Eriador and the Dwarves of Khazad-dum. Being of the Noldor, yet not of the House of Feanor, she enjoyed some welcome among the Naugrim, for though she had fought the enemy she had never held any desire for the Silmarils. Indeed, though she was cunning of hand with metals, no lust for gold or silver ruled her heart. Eventually the Dwarves, perceiving that Helluin's thirst was for knowledge, not treasure, honored her rather than shunning or mistrusting her.

There were those among the Naugrim, survivors of Nogrod for the most part, who still begrudged the slaughter of their lord and kin at Sarn Athrad in Ossiriand as they fled Doriath with the Nauglamir, that necklace in which they had set the Silmaril. By her remarks of distaste for the House of Feanor's obsession over that jewel, Helluin declared her opposition to the oath that had brought bloodshed between the Dwarves and the Elves of Beleriand. It came to pass that Helluin was the first of the Eldar to ever walk the halls of Hadhodrond, delved deep in the Hithaeglir 'neath Caradhras, Celebdil, and Fanuidhol. There she traded wisdom and counsels with the lords and craftsmen of the House of Durin, for in Aman she had learned much from the Maiar of Aule, their creator, whom the Dwarves revered. As had many things in her life, it began by chance.

One hundred and thirty one years had passed since Helluin had come to Eriador, and she had noticed that of late the bands of evil Men had multiplied, as Men were wont to do, and travel had become more risky. These interlopers seemed to her akin to the swarthy Men from the east and south, either leftovers of those who had aided Morgoth, or newly arrived and perhaps venturing west in hopes of gain through mischief. More than once in the preceding years she had come upon the sacking of a farmstead or the robbery of travelers on the roads. In those cases she quickly applied her sword, recalling the House of Ulfast, and the fear of her had grown among the brigands.

On the day in question, Helluin was happily walking over a wooded hill near the confluence of the Rivers Bruinen and Mitheithel. She was singing a song of Valinor and carving a section of reed into a temporary flute for her amusement. The day was fine if a bit hot, for summer was high and the sun was bright o'erhead just ere noon. She'd only brought the flute to her lips to play a note and test the position of another fingerhole, when from across the ford of the Mitheithel she heard coarse voices raised in threat and the drawing of weapons. For a moment she listened, quickly realizing that the voices were speaking the vulgar speech then known as the Common Tongue, a more primitive predecessor of the Westron of the Third Age. Now this wasn't anything so odd, yet already she had dropped her bag and flute and was hastening to the ford. It was as she came to the water that she heard the reply, and a moment later she was flying over the stones of the ford, her light-footed stride causing nary a ripple in her passing.

The voice had been that of a Dwarf, and from the little she knew of the speech of the Naugrim, the Dwarf had simply claimed that he couldn't understand a word the Men were saying. It was a common enough ploy, to feign ignorance when endangered in hopes of being left alone. No doubt the Men's weapons had been drawn to convince him to part with whatever wealth he carried using the universal language of threat. Her own sword slipped from its sheath as she made the further shore and with a few strides she was upon the bank and in full view of the confrontation.

Her ears had reported the situation aright. There stood six armed Men, road brigands by their looks, brandishing studded clubs and swords of poor workmanship, blades scavenged from fallen Yrch if her eyes spoke true. Encircled by them were a pair of Dwarves, bearded, hooded, cloaked, and bearing short axes of a type used for chopping firewood rather than hewing necks. A number of travelers' bags lay at their feet and the circle of Men was tightening. The attention of all was fully occupied and she was ignored, save for quick looks and dismissal by several of the Men. She was alone, and though she bore a longsword, they deemed her only a minimal threat to their numbers. Amazingly she was able to walk right up to them.

"Thinking to rob yon travelers art thou?" She asked in Sindar, her eyes passing over the circle of men. Though she was a hand's width taller than the tallest of them, they were broad of body and certainly strong of arm. Finally they turned their attention to her.

"Looks like what to you it does," the largest of them declared in the mangled Common Speech. She could understand the Dwarves being unable to comprehend them; she could barely understand them herself. "Be your way going," he ordered with a sneer.

"Stand fast and I shalt split whatever they have with thee," she whispered to the nearer Dwarf in broken Khazdul, winking and giving him a feral grin. The Naugrim's eyes bulged to hear her speak their tongue at all, even if poorly. The Men had no idea what she'd said.

"So, continue Morgoth's work you would in smallish ways, your master though long gone he is," she told the robbers in the Common Tongue, " that Enemy I fought; your fathers to join in death gladly will I send you." She gave them a smile and bared her teeth.

The Men turned from their victims at her threat and glared at her. The nearest raised his sword. Pitiful weapon she thought. With a swift stroke, Anguirel clove the Man's blade from its hilt. He looked at what remained in his hand and howled in anger. The Men to either side of him moved to attack.

Now the battle-prowess of the Eldar lay not in great strength alone, but in agility, speed, and reaction time. These blessings, aided by the acuity of senses and superior weaponry made Elven warriors highly formidable. Helluin saw every muscle clench and strain, the shifting of focus in their eyes, and the changes in balance as their feet moved. Yet before any of that, she heard the speech of their minds. _Fools_, she thought, _I know ere thou command thine own limbs in what manner thy body shalt move_. With a stroke she sliced off one Man's club just above his hand and the other Man's belt so his pants fell around his knees. Beside her a Dwarf chuckled in a deep-throated gurgle. The return stroke brought Anguirel's point up under the chin of the next nearest robber, he being the large Man who'd spoken to her.

"Be your way going," she ordered with a sneer, adding, "son of an Orc you."

The Man's eyes bugged out in his head at the insult but he backed up a pace as his fellow robbers edged away from her. They had never met any of the Calaquendi. In truth they'd had very little to do with any of the Eldar. The blue fire in her eyes was supernatural, wholly unnerving. More unnerving still was the feeling in each of their hearts that her sword lusted for their blood as it were a living thing possessed. Helluin had advanced, keeping the sword's point tight against the Man's throat. To speed them on their way she whipped the blade from side to side, slicing off the better part of his beard. As it gently dropped to the ground the brigands fled. Helluin laughed. The wars in Beleriand would have gone much quicker if more like them had fought for Morgoth. She watched until they were safely gone beyond her sight and hearing.

Next she looked at the Dwarves. They were staring at her, clearly disturbed and clearly thankful. They both bowed to her as if their bodies were commanded by a single mind.

"Our thanks, fell warrior of the Eldar," one said in passable Sindarin, "a debt in gratitude my kinsman and I owe thee." The stooped to collect their bags.

"For 600 years I fought the Great Enemy and yet I find his legacy alive even after his defeat. 'Tis, in part, why I left Aman, and fighting yon brigands is part of that purpose. It gladdens my heart though to spare thou and thy kinsman from harm," Helluin replied in Sindarin. She began to sheath her sword but noticed the intense looks of interest the Dwarves were regarding it with. She held the blade out for them to appraise. "This, is Anguirel, forged by Eol of Nan Elmoth of sky-iron. It has cloven all delved steel I have tested it against thus far and it has preserved my life and many others."

The black blade, technically a longsword, was double-edged, nearly a yard long past the hilts, with fullers on either side, and it narrowed to a wicked point. With both distal taper and an evenly narrowing width, it was light for its length and extremely sharp, a perfect tool for the shearing of mail, the piercing of plate, and the hewing of flesh and bone. As had been said before, unlike the typically showy blades of the Eldar it bore no script, no engraved traceries, and no inlays, nor had it been polished mirror bright. In sunlight the steel showed an iridescence of many subtle colors that flickered upon the black metal as it moved. The crossguard and pommel were of the same black steel as the blade, while the handgrip was of carved wood wound 'bout in thongs of black leather.

"Thou art Noldor," the second Dwarf said, in the blunt manner of the Naugrim, nodding to himself with certainty. "Eol the Morben was at times a guest at the smithies of Nogrod and Belegost. Had thou dealings with the people of Mahal, yonder in the Blessed Lands?" He asked hopefully.

(**Morben**, **_Dark Elf_**, properly applied to the Moriquendi. Sindarin)

"From the Maiar of Aule, whom thou call Mahal, I learned the forging and tempering of steel and the working of many metals," Helluin answered, "but it has been an Age since last I stood at a forge."

The Dwarf regarded her with speculation for a moment before speaking again.

"Warrior, would thou allow my kinsman and me to host thee in our halls for a time, in gratitude for delivering us from the robbers? Perhaps both thee and we could gain in knowledge and enrich our craft? We would make thee welcome, the first of the Eldar ever to come to our mansions."

Helluin thought about their offer. She'd never really had close relations with the Naugrim but she knew of their mastery at crafts. Swiftly her curiosity about them and their home overcame any reservations she had. The explorer overruled the warrior. Yes, there were many things she could learn from them. And now she served no lord, nor was she constrained by any quest. Helluin's time was her own to spend.

"I would be honored, and I would willingly share what I know," she told the Dwarves. "It would also please me greatly to learn from thee, perhaps bettering my speech in the language of thy people, what of it thou art willing to teach. I foresee us both profiting thus. In years to come it may ease the way for others of our people."

The Dwarves smiled happily at her acceptance and open manner. She was neither cold nor haughty as the Noldor had been reported to be by their people who had emigrated from Belegost. Such impressions had arisen from the early dealings of the Naugrim with Caranthir son of Feanor and his host in Thargelion, who had ever treated them with condescension. That impression had after been reinforced by many small incidents. The Naugrim for their part were not without fault, being clannish, secretive, and at times overmastered by their greed for treasure. This in fact had led to the slaughter at Sarn Athrad in Ossiriand, when the host of Nogrod slew Elu Thingol, King of Doriath, and sacked his halls of Menegroth. Of course this incident had been a culmination of a long and often tense relationship with the Sindar.

The Host of Nogrod had after been utterly destroyed by Beren and the Laiquendi, or so the tale had been told to Helluin's ears. That the Elves had been unknowingly aided by the very Onodrim whose mates she had once met in the Ered Wethrin, Helluin had no knowledge. Those of the Naugrim thus dispatched had escaped the Green Elves' ambush and had perished unmarked on the slopes of the Ered Luin far beyond the battle.

The strange trio took to the road, trading stories and the gossip of Eriador. As they went forward, each practiced the language of the other, and ever quick to learn, Helluin could speak passably the everyday tongue of Durin's folk ere they came to the west door of Hadhodrond, the Deep Delving of the Dwarves.

The Dwarves had declared their names to be Gikli and Merk, and they were prospectors, abroad for a time seeking ores, a preoccupation of the Naugrim no matter how rich the lodes they already knew. They directed Helluin along a well laid road that tracked the course of the pleasant stream Sirannon, which led eventually to a low cliff that the road continued up in switchbacks to the north of a flight of sturdy stairs. At the top, the road resumed a pace and led around a curve to the rampart of a tall cliff in which a massive iron portcullis stood open. Many centuries later the Elves of Eregion would aid the Dwarves in the construction of the Hidden Gates, of which later bards have sung, but in this time no such contrivances yet existed. With passwords exchanged, the door wardens allowed Helluin, Gikli, and Merk to pass.

During the following years she spent in Khazad-dum, Helluin taught and learned much of the craft of the forge, for of tempering, the Naugrim were the undisputed masters in Middle Earth. The Guild of Smiths slowly accepted her and she worked the hot steel at their furnaces, winning their respect. In those days she also learned much of masonry and the mining of ores. Deep beneath the mansions and halls of Moria lay the pits and shafts from which the Dwarves wrested their metals from the earth. Many an expedition Helluin joined for the finding of iron and gold and silver, tin, copper, and zinc, cobalt and mercury, and of all these she never laid any claim, though the discoveries she made enriched the houses of the lords of Khazad-dum. It was in her eleventh year underground when she made a more valuable discovery, for she had perceived the flow of strata and correctly guessed at the presence of a vein of mithril ore where none had been expected. This incited the lust of her hosts, but as she had before, Helluin laid no claim to the lode. For some time she had spoken fluently in the tongue of Durin's people, though she learned none of their secret words. She spoke to them in it now, and the initial strangeness of this Elf speaking Khazdul while standing in their halls had become commonplace to them.

"All that lies 'neath Durin's Halls rightly belongs to Durin's Folk," she told them to their astonishment. "Take of it what thou will, yet I would petition thy lords for such of it as would make for me some mail to protect me when I leave, for I lead a warrior's life in the outside world and such may save me one day."

Then Gneiss son of Gnoss, a master craftsman of the Guild of Smiths, spoke to her saying, "None have spoken fairer to my ears, be they Eldar or Khazad, for the wealth of this lode would make one a lord. In token of this, allow me to craft for thee from this ore the finest armor of mithril ere thou take thy leave of us. Thou shalt truly bear hence a king's ransom."

Such an offer was beyond generous, for the Naugrim seldom clad even their own warriors in the precious metal, and for one of her stature, the armor would eclipse the treasure of no few lords. The labor alone might take the master smith over a year, for mithril was not the easiest of ores to smelt and forge. Long weeks would be spent merely hot winding the drawn wire onto steel mandrel rods and then slitting the coils to make the raw rings. Thanks were in order on both sides, yet for Helluin, it was also important to emphasize that she desired not to leave Khazad-dum wearing a king's ransom, but rather with the most impenetrable armor that could be fabricated in Middle Earth. Therefore she spoke again to Gneiss.

"No treasure do I desire to burden me on my road, for in no place hath I established halls or treasury. Yet armor I would hath of mithril, for such mail even my sword Anguirel cannot cleave, and such rings are light and supple beyond any steel that craft can make. In all of Middle Earth, no hands are so masterful as those of the craftsmen of Khazad-dum, for where else now in Arda are there any who hath worked this metal and know its secrets?"

And so Gneiss and his apprentices refined the ore, and when they had obtained mithril, they set to work to make ring-mail and articulated plates for Helluin. Such was their craft in those days that the work of their smithy lay smooth as a second skin upon her body, light and flexible as silk, and Anguirel could not cut it, nor could the thrust of a spear pierce it. The masters of Khazad-dum fashioned Helluin's mail such that it fit her as a short-skirted battle dress, with a ring neck that a hauberk could overlie. Unlike steel mail, it was worn over a thin shift rather than underlain by the padding of a gambson or felted arming tunic. Over the mail Helluin wore a supple, black leather battle dress of the same fashion she'd worn in Gondolin, and thence a long hooded cloak for ill-weather. Pauldrons, vambraces and grieves they made for her as well, of lapped plates harder than dragon scales. When all was finished, Helluin saw the shining rings, mirror-bright, and knew this would never do.

"Bright is this armor, Gneiss, and handsome would it be for a lord in the vanguard of an army," she told him gently, wishing to spare his feelings for his efforts had been great, "yet a lone warrior is best unseen and unremarked. I would hath these plates and mail washed with galvorn to make them black and hide both me and its unique worth."

Galvorn was a black alloy devised by Eol. It looked like nothing more than blackened steel, hardly showy, and anyone seeing Helluin's armor would take it for such, yet though galvorn was malleable enough to form such fine rings, it had not the strength of mithril.

Gneiss gave her a cunning smile, "I understand now aright thy purpose and thy need and am at the last fully persuaded of it."

Perhaps for the first time even he was convinced that Helluin's desire for armor of mithril came not from its value as treasure, but for the peerless properties of the metal itself. No finer protection from enemy weapons existed in Middle Earth. When she had arrived in Khazad-dum, what armor she wore had been of a few steel plates backed by hard leather. By blackening the mithril's finish, no glint or tell tail reflection would be cast. Not even the visible parts, the hauberk, pauldrons, bracers, grieves, and the mail on her breast above her leathers would draw unwanted attention.

And now Helluin appeared, not like the Elven lords or the great warriors of the Noldor, shining star-bright in the glory of their gem-encrusted battle-gear, but rather as one of their own; a fell fighter of the elite black companies of Hadhodrond who slew the Glamhoth in the dark places of the world under mountain and stone. Yet none would mistake her for one of Durin's Folk. She was two-heads taller and the Light of Aman burned in the blue fire of her eyes. Indeed the black armor and leather joined her sword and the fall of her hair to frame those eyes, outwardly augmenting her dark spirit to create a terrifying apparition of menace. Then Gneiss son of Gnoss, seeing her for the first time attired thus, exclaimed, "Behold, the Mórgolodh."

(**Mórgolodh, _"Black Exile"_** **_mór_** (black, dark) + **_golodh_** (exiled elf; Noldo). Sindarin)

To Be Continued


	7. In An Age Before Chapter 7

**In An Age Before - Part 7

* * *

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**Chapter Five**

_**Rhovanion, East of the Hithaeglir - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Well nigh twenty years of the sun had passed before Helluin left Khazad-dum. By then the Dwarves held her in high honor and she had learned much from them. Yet eventually the longing for the open sky and the sounds of wind and water drew her forth from the deep halls of Durin's folk and she took up again her wandering ways.

Now when she left, Helluin went not by the west door through which she'd entered, but rather from Azanulbizar Gate, the main gate of Moria. This lay on the eastern side of the Hithaeglir, above the Mirror Mere, Kheled-zaram. Below it, the spring that gave rise to the river Celebrant arose from its deep source. At first Helluin just stood letting Anar's warmth wash over her as she listened in delight to the play of bright waters skipping down a stair-step falls from a mist-shrouded gorge between the arms of the mountains behind. The sun's light falling through that spray graced the narrow chasm with a rainbow that arced from wall to wall, as it were some ephemeral bridge of the Valar set there for spirits alone to tread upon. Yet soon she took to the road descending from the great gates, and so Helluin came into the eastern lands, into the forests of the broadening Nanduhirion that would one day be called the Dimrill Dale.

The next day she had followed the land further downslope into the gore between the river Celebrant and the river Nimrodel, though that latter name was still long in coming. To Helluin, these rivers were simply the right and left forks of a tributary that ran down to Anduin the Great, of whose name the Dwarves had spoken. Yet though the later name had yet to be given, still many already lived nigh these streams, for the land was fair and the water clean. Now these were not the people of Lothlorien, for the Land of the Golden Flower would not be founded for well over another thousand years. These were those Moriquendi called Nandor, a branch of the Umanyar. They were originally Teleri who had renounced the westward march to Aman and had never entered Beleriand. They had been sundered from the Calaquendi and even the Sindar for over 4,000 years, and they had found their own place in Middle Earth.

Helluin had been near 50 years of age when Lenwe, a kinsman of King Olwe, had led a host who would become the Nandor south, away down Anduin, for they had despaired of crossing the Hithaeglir into Eriador. By then the Vanyar of Ingwe and the Noldor of Finwe, (with Helluin among them), had already followed the Vala Orome over the Misty Mountains. The Teleri had stayed behind, desiring to live for a time on Anduin's banks.

In truth, some of the Nandor, many of them under Denethor, son of Lenwe, had later journeyed into more western lands, whether by the pass between the Ered Nimrais and the Hithaeglir, or along the southern coast beyond the White Mountains, or over the Misty Mountains themselves. Indeed Denethor's folk had been known to Helluin, for they had become the Laiquendi, the Green Elves of Ossiriand. Still to Helluin these were strange and distant kin, their language archaic to her ears, and no light of the Blessed Realm burned in their eyes. Of their kin to the west and the wars of the Silmarils the Nandor had heard but rumors of distant unrest. They were wary of others by nature, though not to such a degree as the Avari further east, and while they were not evil, they were suspicious of strangers, for agents of Morgoth had walked these lands though the Nandor knew not their true origins. Of the ways of wide lands about Anduin, none were more familiar. Plant and animal they knew close as kin, rock and tree were their intimates, and Helluin, though traveling cloaked in green much like the Laiquendi of Ossiriand, was known long ere she crossed the Celebrant.

Many hidden eyes marked her passage down to the confluence of the two rivers. For her part, Helluin noted a watchfulness in the land as she moved further from Khazad-dum and it reminded her somewhat of her march through Ossiriand. It seemed the very breeze held its breath and some uneasy peace lay upon the forest, yet peace it was, not threat. Helluin kept her senses sharp and strode forward as a traveler rather than a hunter or a spy; indeed she came singing a song of Valinor, likening the light of golden Laurelin to the sunlight streaming through the leaves of the mellyrn standing all around. Her voice rose clear like crystal, lofting her words to Arien as she drew the vessel of Anar, last remnant of Laurelin's light, through the heavens.

Now the Nandor heard clearly her voice and knew that none in Middle Earth save their Elven kin sang with voices so sweet and pure. So they assailed her not though she was a stranger dressed for war and the longsword at her side they marked. Of her song they understood but few of the words, and yet they felt the spirit of praise and thanksgiving that flowed amidst the lines, for pitch is keyed to feeling and once long ago the tongue of the Nandor had its roots in common with the Quenya that had been preserved in Aman. Therefore they felt her reverence for the world and its life. Even so, when she came at last to the meeting of the two rivers she was stopped. There a company of the Nandor of Celebrant drew up behind her and stayed any thought of retreat back from the point of the gore. So Helluin stood, with a plunge down to the frothy, tumbling waters at her back and well nigh twenty strange Elves facing her.

Though the establishment of Lothlorien was many centuries away, already those of that land cloaked themselves in grey and moved through the trees with stealth. Most bore bows of supple yew and slender shafts tipped with steel in quivers at their backs. A few had knives as well, but these were plain and of inferior workmanship. Helluin waited to hear their hail, for etiquette demanded that having stopped her they challenge her or let her pass. After some time, when the company had settled itself and she had made no move, a tall Elf with long, pale hair stood forward and spoke. To Helluin's ears his language was beyond antique, yet still changed from the speech of Cuivienen that she recalled only with some difficulty from two Ages of the world before. Indeed the tongue of the Nandor was that which was known after as Silvan, and it had its roots in common with Quenya and even with Sindarin, though the latter less closely following millennia of divergence.

"Wherefore goes't thou, girded thus for battle in this land of peace?"

"I wander in quest of my curiosity's satisfaction," Helluin explained, adjusting her speech for their ease of comprehension, "holding to no lord either allegiance or duty, and serving none save my own heart since the fall of the House of Fingolfin, son of Finwe."

A murmur went up from the Nandor, for the name of Host of Finwe had been known to them of old. They were kin, but distant in time and place.

"Why doth thee bear sword and gear of war, Noldo," he asked, nodding to the sheathed sword Anguirel at her belt, "if no lord does't thou serve?"

"Amidst western lands war lay heavy and long. Despite the Great Enemy's fall, still some few of his servants roam apace, or did, east of yon Hithaeglir." She glanced up to the snow-crowned peaks of Caradhras, Celebdil, and Fanuidhol, which rose above Khazad-dum. "These I thwart in memory of kin fallen, and for the protection of myself."

The Elf digested her words a moment and then asked, "Dids't thou indeed cross yonder heights?" He gestured with one arm, back up Nanduhirion, with an expression of barely suppressed awe.

"Nay, under them I came," Helluin answered, "as a guest of the House of Durin did I pass through Hadhodrond."

Here all the Nandor began to voice opinions ranging from shock to amazement to outright disbelief. None of the Nandor of Celebrant had passed through the gates of the Khazad-dum. The two peoples dealt with each other mostly in mutual disinterest, or ignored each other's doings entirely. They had nothing in common and neither kindred could understand a word the other said. It had been so forever. The Nando wound up sneering at Helluin and advancing upon her though the remainder of his people still stood indecisive.

"False ring thy words, Noldo. Say sooth, pass yonder gate? Nay, not in any age."

"Not thee or thine perhaps," Helluin answered calmly, "yet twenty years hath I spent in those halls with honor. If thee doubt my words, then look upon works wrought for me in Khazad-dum."

Here she spread her arms and her cloak fell open revealing the vambraces on her forearms and the armor above the bodice of her battle dress. The mail lay flush on her skin as it were a design applied rather than a garment worn, and the plates of the vambraces shifted in supple accommodation of every move of her arms. The pauldrons' segments encased her shoulders like dragon's scales. The Elf gazed at the mail and plate, marveling at the fineness of its craft. The design motifs adorning it were geometric and hard, not organic or flowing as Elvish decorations would have been. It was certainly Dwarvish in feel, recalling the relief designs on the Azanulbizar gate itself.

"Neither blade nor shaft can pass this armor, whether from the bows of Quendi or Yrch," Helluin declared loud enough for all to hear.

"So say thou," the Nando said. "Still I say thou speak untrue and would put thy claim to test. Does't thou fear?" He asked, smirking at her and thinking himself crafty of word.

"Nay, thy shafts shan't bite though thou shoot to kill," said Helluin as she drew her hauberk over her head and dropped the cloak, "but a boon shalt thou owe me for any holes in my clothing."

Here the Nando looked at her in surprise and then shook his head believing her fey. He turned and strode back to his people, then ordered a dozen archers to knock arrows and draw. It was done in the blink of an eye and he commanded them to release. The shafts sped unerring to their target where they bounced away or broke on Helluin's chest right above her heart.

Seeing this he wondered, what miraculous steel doth the Naugrim contrive? She had stood unmoving, only hoping they wouldn't shoot her unprotected upper arms or legs. In shooting to kill, no harm came to her save some bruising from the impacts, and that less than a heavy hand blow might have caused. The Nandor looked on in amazement as she pulled off the hauberk and casually strode towards them until she stood but a body's length from the archers.

"What say thee now, Umanya?" Helluin asked, letting flare the blue fire in her eyes that reflected the Undying Light of Valinor that his people had never seen. "Doubt me still?"

The Nando gulped as he looked in her face and felt himself constrained immobile by her will. Not yet wrath, but a dwindling of patience he read there amidst her dark beauty. Truths he saw, and possibilities lived that he had never imagined. There was no lie in her, but more than that, there was a power, majestic and wholly perplexing, yet inherent in all those who had dwelt in Aman. Helluin was the first of the Calaquendi that any of them had ever met. With a blink she released him and he drew a deep breath.

Naught but rumors had come east of the wars in Beleriand, yet from those wars she had come, with heart unbowed and body unbroken though it was said that entire lands had foundered. And what had those eyes seen in the Blessed Realm and through the ages while he and his people had dwelt quiet on these Hither Shores? What powers or prowess had she acquired there? Whence came that fire in her eyes? She showed no fear. He wondered whether she would slay them all, for their arrows wouldn't bite and not one among them bore a sword. He felt the need of counsel and that could come only from the lord of his people, who dwelt among the trees downstream nigh Celebrant.

"Nay, no longer hath I doubts of thee," he said, "but more, I pray thee, that thou woulds't come before my lord, sharing in his halls the telling of thy tale." Here he sketched a slight bow of courtesy for good measure.

Helluin sighed, but understood that these of her distant kin stood in ignorance of the greater powers and deeds in the West. She could at the least update them and enjoy their hospitality while acquainting herself of their ways. Meeting their lord would be a good start. Helluin nodded in agreement.

"Grateful would this traveler be for thy lord's hospitality, and honored to speak of the deeds in the West." She offered him a tentative smile that he returned self-consciously over low mumbles from those standing behind. "I am Helluin of the Noldor, called also Maeg-mormenel."

"Well met then, Helluin," the Nando said, "I am Haldir, Captain of the Northern Border Guard. We name our country _Lindórinand_. Come then," he beckoned with a gesture as he passed her and walked toward the point of the gore. Helluin moved to follow and the rest joined in behind. It appeared he intended to cross over Celebrant and march along its north bank.

(**Lindórinand**, _"Vale of the Land of the Singers"_, is the old name of** Lothlorien**, while it was still purely a realm of the Nandor. -Nandorin. UT, Pt. 2; IV, HoGaC, Note 5, pgs. 252-3.)

Haldir removed from around his waist a coil of line that he tied to an arrow. He then knocked the arrow on his bowstring, took aim, and let fly, sending shaft and line across the water to stick in a dead trunk on the far bank. The near end he handed to a second Elf who tied it around a nearby tree and made it fast. As Helluin watched, Haldir leapt up and came to stand light as a fleck of down upon the slender rope, and then just as lightly he quickly stepped across it over the rushing waters. Once on the far bank, he plucked free his arrow, and tied the free end to a loop of rope already in place around the trunk that had lain out of sight on the ground. Once all was again secure, the company began to cross in the same manner.

Helluin crossed third to the last and found the way easy though she had never attempted such a thing before. The capacity was native in all Elves to master their balance, and being in control of their own bodies, fear wasn't a concern. Haldir nodded in approval as she hopped lightly to the ground. Now he was curious to see how agile she'd be in the trees. When the last of the company had crossed, he spoke the word _'Hótule!'_ sharply, and gave the line a tug, snapping it like a whip. The knot on the far bank came free and the line leapt through the air in a graceful arc, landing on the ground near his feet.

("**Hótule!" _"Come away!"_** imp. Quenya)

The company continued walking east through the forest alongside Celebrant, finally taking a path more inland during the later afternoon. From time to time one among them would raise his voice in song. Overhead a gently swaying canopy of fluttering gold splintered the sun's light into dancing shadows that flickered 'neath the mellyrn. Bright or dim, all the forest seemed bathed in warm, golden hues to Helluin, and though but a dim recollection of the light of Laurelin falling upon Tuna, still it recalled to her heart the home she'd left in Aman. That quality of light brought on a longing for the Blessed Realm, and in that moment Helluin felt that all in Middle Earth was but a faded vision or shallow artifice. As the day began to fade and the light warmed, the effect became even more pronounced. Helluin fell into a somber mood, and in response she recalled a mournful song composed just after the poisoning of the Trees, as their light faded forever from Aman. Soon strains of Elemmire's _Aldudenie_, the "Lament of the Two Trees", took wing from her lips.

She sang softly and with incomplete attention, yet her voice was clear and the tune slow and sad. The Nandor could understand little of the Quenya in which the lyrics had been set, but the notes alone brought them sadness for a world diminished and a wondrous land they had never seen. No Elf could have been unmoved, and the Umanyar were no exception. Their hearts were turned in sympathy to the ending of that which they had never known, feeling keenly the sense of having missed wonders that were gone forever. By virtue of the notes, the sorrow of all loss in a wider sense was rekindled anew as well. Even far from Beleriand, life in Middle Earth was not without its heartbreak. Soon many of the company became morose. In fact more than one shed tears as he walked, and after several miles it became too much. At last Haldir, as upset as any, brought them to a halt.

"Cease, O cease, I pray thee," he beseeched Helluin as he gave up walking and stood still, faltering and pausing to wipe his eyes. "No more of this can I stand! Heart's poverty thou bring'th upon us, Helluin; such a painful spell."

Helluin had ceased singing at once and stood with downcast expression and sincere regret etched on her face. The Elves of Darkness had felt more depressed by her song then even she herself; a doubling of loss compounded by regret over old choices made. In a land of singers, a song was a powerful thing.

"Thy pardon, Haldir," Helluin said softly, "the fading light 'neath these trees brought to my mind a song of lament for the loss of the Two Trees that once lit the Blessed Realm. I sang without thought of consequence. Long have I wandered with naught but my own company, and of the tongue of Valinor, the Naugrim understood nothing."

"Bitter then and sad must our home seem to thee, and gladder am I to see it in ignorance," he said, looking with sympathy on the sorrow that marked her beauty.

"The fault lies not in thy lands, Haldir, but I bear a longing for things that live now only in memory. Time runs on, but memory endures and to the past there can be no returning. Yet not for a hundred times the sadness would I wipe away my past beyond the seas. I have sorrow, yes, but not regret."

Haldir understood and said, "Perhaps thou shalt speak to me of Valinor ere our paths part, for 'tis said great sorrow follows only the loss of great joy."

Helluin nodded in response. Haldir turned away and began leading the company forward again as the light deepened 'neath the mellyrn from bright to burnished gold.

They walked for perhaps another hour before coming to a clearing surrounding a tall hill ringed with young mellyrn, at the crown of which stood the snag of a long-dead trunk of massive girth. All 'round its base grew a lush turf of soft, thick green. The Nandor turned while walking and acknowledged the place with a subtle bowing of their heads, yet none broke from their pace. Helluin wondered at the significance of it, for the Nandor obviously regarded the hill with some reverence. She inspected it closely as she passed. It seemed to her that about the hill a faint enchantment lay; an uncommon clarity, a shifting of light, or a shimmer to be seen only from the corner of the eye. Haldir noted her curiosity and broke from the lead, walking back to her as the company continued on.

"_Tuna-i-Aldoen_, upon whose crown the eldest mallorn grew, aged long ere the coming of my people; alas, it passed long ago," Haldir explained, "yet suckers anew arise as if in homage."

(**Tuna-i-Aldoen**, _"Hill of the Great Tree"_, a long time before it became Cerin Amroth in the Third Age. Quenya)

"How long ago?" Helluin asked, experiencing a sense of prescience.

"'Twas stricken o'er 750 years past and failed utterly in but a year," he said, shaking his head sadly. "There followed 616 years of silent desolation. Just o'er 150 years past did it renew, unlooked for and undivined."

"Hmmmm," Helluin mused. She looked at the Hill of the Great Tree for several moments longer. The reported count of years seemed true. 151 years had passed since the fall of Morgoth. 767 years ago the Noldor had returned to Middle Earth bringing war. It couldn't have been coincidence. She made no comment, but thanked Haldir with a nod and a small smile. Then they moved to follow the company, already marching out of sight up the path, now in a more southerly direction.

As evening fell the company came to the chief settlement of Lindórinand. It lay just north of the river, encompassing a large hill among tall mellyrn where many of the platforms that the Nandor called_ Aldar opélille_, sat up among the branches of the trees. Some were but a few body heights above the ground, while the highest were barely to be seen, their undersides hidden amidst the crowns and obscured by branches and leaves. They ranged in size from simple platforms or hunters' blinds, to actual palaces in the boughs. From overhead the voices of many Elves floated down to the company, in conversation, laughter, and occasionally in song. Here and there a lamp glowed between the leaves, and as Helluin watched, yet more shone out as they were lit in the gloaming.

(**Aldar opélille, _"Little Tree Houses", alda _**(tree) + **_-r_**(pl) + **_opél(e) _**(walled house) + **_-i_**(pl) + **_-lle_**(diminutive) Quenya, and as close as I can come to a Quenya equivalent for the Sindarin words **_talan_**. **_Flet_** is 3rd Age Westron. The singular form is **alda opélelle**).

The city of the Nandor had neither rampart nor dike, but with a warrior's eye Helluin noted that the area was under constant surveillance from many small aldar opélille and blinds. There archers waited, silent and vigilant, as a last defense against intruders. Indeed for some time, she had noted the presence of increasing numbers of watchers in the woods. The Nandor had chosen to make their realm a porous killing ground, in which unseen resistance would intensify with increasing proximity to their settlement. Being without physical barriers, the area appeared but lightly defended, and yet for a people who fought with stealth, it allowed fluidity and adaptability in meeting invaders. Helluin had seen such tactics before in Ossiriand, among the Laiquendi. It seemed a common solution for the Umanyar and a logical outgrowth of those peoples' love of open spaces and freedom to wander amidst the nature they so loved. Perhaps it had been sufficient defense against their enemies here in the east, but against a host in such numbers as Morgoth had unleashed, the Nandor would have been swiftly overrun. It told her that warfare had been much less intense here; they'd probably seen little more than raiding and skirmishes.

"Pray thee follow now, that we might come before my lord," Haldir said to Helluin as they stood before a large mallorn atop the central hill. "Lenwin, son of Lenwer, son of Lenwe is king among the trees." After a nod from her he started up a rope ladder that had been lowered from a large talan several fathoms above their heads.

Helluin climbed up behind him easily and soon stood beside him on the talan. This platform was quite large and bridged two trunks that stood a half-dozen yards apart. Upon it was a roofed enclosure with a wide opening in its wall and windows on its sides. Within was a guard station where Haldir quickly spoke to another Elf. That done he resumed their way, leading Helluin up another ladder.

This time the climb was longer and soon they were far above the floor of the forest. A second talan they reached at perhaps 100 feet up, and this amidst the branching of the trunk two-thirds of the way to the mallorn's crown. Here many thick limbs pierced the floor, rising at varying angles and in all directions. Helluin could see many smaller platforms among the outer branches, reached, she assumed, simply by walking the limbs. Also radiating from the talan were many ropes leading away to other trees nearby, the Nandor's sidewalks, such as they were.

"The Halls of Lenwin lie upon yonder mallorn," Haldir declared, pointing to a trunk about ten fathoms distant, "and not a thread leads hence from the ground. Here only lies the approach."

Haldir gestured to a slender rope held taut between the talan on which they stood and one encircling the trunk of a yet greater tree. He started across, walking at ease as he had while crossing Celebrant. Helluin followed shortly, pacing across behind him, not the least bit daunted by the drop of sixteen fathoms and four 'neath her feet. Height mattered not at all. The rope was secure and no wind blew. For people of Elven kind there was little danger in the crossing. At the far end of the rope, Haldir stepped off and waited for Helluin to make the talan. He noted that her eyes roved constantly, up, down, and in all directions as she paced that slender pathway among the branches. He saw her curiosity and delight in discovering a place filled with new sights and sounds. Yet again, he found himself impressed by this stranger.

Upon the aldar opélille they had reached stood a high-walled hall of wood, bedecked with glowing lamps that illuminated the carvings and painting upon it. Elves stood outside and at the doors, some speaking amongst themselves, others singing softly and plucking notes upon harps of many strings. Several nodded greetings to Haldir and looked with curiosity upon Helluin. She noted that none there bore arms. At the door a tall, dark-haired Elf greeted Haldir by name and Haldir returned his greeting and introduced Helluin.

"Hail, Arnel. Helluin of the Noldor is she, called also Maeg-mormenel, an explorer of many lands and mortal foe to the Dark Enemy of whom some have told. Audience we seek before King Lenwin."

"Audience our lord grants, Haldir. Indeed he know'th of Helluin's coming hither. Proceed thou hence in peace." The door warden pulled open the tall doors and then stood aside for them to pass.

Haldir proceeded Helluin into the hall and she walked forward a step behind him on his right. All 'round, the hall was lit warmly by many bright lamps. The inside had been whitewashed so that the room was filled with a brilliant golden light. Many stood in attendance in the large open space, while yet more Elves sat along the walls on benches. Helluin noted a buzz of conversation, conducted discretely in hushed tones. Towards the rear, nearest the doors, several musicians softly sang and scribes wrote upon parchments with pens of gold. At the far end of the hall stood a low dais. Upon it were set a matched pair of high-backed chairs, intricately carved with floral motifs and washed in gold. Gathered around the dais nearby were the counselors of the king's household, seated upon chairs and stools of many styles and shapes.

Upon the dais sat King Lenwin and his queen, the Lady Calenwen. Both were tall and slender, dark of hair and pale of skin, their brown eyes streaked with gold much like the autumn leaves of the mellyrn they so loved. Both appeared to be in the prime of life, though such is difficult to judge among the Firstborn. Only their eyes truly showed their age. Such wisdom as life in Middle Earth offered, gained through long years did Helluin see, yet they were not so long of care as to be borne down by it. She guessed them to be little more than a thousand years old. They looked upon their subject and his guest with smiles of welcome, standing in greeting as was the custom amongst Elven kind.

"Thanks we give for thy safe return, Haldir, and for the peace of yon border north," King Lenwin declared before turning his attention to their guest. "Welcome, Helluin of the Noldor. Long art thy people sundered from us, nor hath any of the Host of Finwe come amongst us ere hither realm was founded. Naught but rumor hath we heard concerning the West and the Undying Lands. Pray tell us thy tale. We would harken to thy words. What tidings of the Hosts of Ingwe and of Finwe, of Olwe, and most, of Elwe? What deeds befell, wondrous and of great renown?"

Helluin briefly bowed her head in assent before the dais and then spoke, tempering her speech in manner most like their own. In the hour of the night she sketched the history of two long Ages in the west of Arda.

"Sooth say thee, O King, long sundered our peoples be. In ages past o'er Hithaeglir came my people, and they behind the Host of Ingwe. Thence to Beleriand beyond the land of Eriador, cross yet further mountains came we thither o'er many years, and there took our way to Aman the Blessed. Then in peace did we dwell, in lands undying 'neath the Holy Light of Yavanna's Trees, rejoicing in the presence of the Holy Ones and learning much of wisdom and of craft. There an Age passed away, indeed, 3,620 years of the sun.

In bliss we woulds't tarry there still were it not for the jewels of Feanor, eldest son of King Finwe. Alas, the Silmarils he wrought, capturing in their hearts the very Light of the Two Trees. Melkor the Dark Enemy, Morgoth he is named, coveted them and contrived to take them, aided in his knavery by the monster Ungoliant, an ancient evil that doth wear spider's guise. With black vapors did she darken Valinor, and 'neath the darkness came Melkor. Then he smote the Trees, poisoning the Lights of Yavanna, and bringing down the night upon Aman, yea even upon Valimar and the Ring of Doom! Thence taking their way north, they came to Formenos where dwelt King Finwe, and Feanor, and his sons. There Melkor broke the treasury and had the Silmarils, slaying King Finwe."

At these words the king and queen bowed their heads to honor the fallen. But Helluin knew that what was to come might yet turn their hearts against her and all her people. Still she continued on, intent on telling the truth.

"To Middle Earth they fled with the Silmarils. Morgoth came even to his fortress of Angband, and there raised anew his host. Ungoliant encamped in the wastes of Nan Dungortheb 'neath the Ered Gorgoroth of Dorthonian, and there she spawned great evil.

Now Feanor, son of Finwe, persuaded the better part of the Noldor to accompany him and his sons to Middle Earth, forsaking both the Undying Lands and the Blessing of the Valar, for he was wroth with grief and fey. Yet in truth 'twas obsession to repossess the Silmarils that moved him most of all. There he and his sons swore, and many of his folk also, taking Manwe and even Iluvatar himself as witness to their oath. For all time hence they would pursue those of whatsoever kindred, Vala, Maiar, Elf, Man, or Orch who held or claimed a Silmaril. Mark me, O King, the son of Finwe spoke no less than rebellion against the Valar, for they sanctioned him not and laid a great doom upon his quest, and his leave-taking was as an exile. Now though not even the greater part of the Noldor held to his obsession with the Silmarils nor swore his oath, still many departed Aman to avenge King Finwe, many to explore Middle Earth or to raise there realms in their own names. And so, many marched hence under Fingolfin son of Finwe. Even thus, Feanor's host marched ever first and most eager.

Not long did the flaming hearts of the Noldor restrict their hatred to Morgoth, for too soon ends came to justify means. Coming first to the Havens of Alqualonde, Feanor took council with King Olwe for the favor of the Teleri and their seacraft. Yet the king was unmoved by Feanor's oath and refused to sail against the judgement of the Valar, and for the Silmarils he cared little. Then Feanor with his host stormed the havens and did violence there against their kin the Teleri, and they took the ships and sailed them north."

Lenwin and Calenwen look upon Helluin in horror, for the Nandor had been, ere their sundering, of the Host of the Teleri and still held Olwe a High King over all their people. Dark grew the king's countenance, but the queen's eyes bespoke her sorrow. The hall was silent now for all ears had turned to Helluin's tale.

"At Alqualonde died many, and good friends had I among them. Many, many decades I spent with the Teleri, learning their crafts and skills," Helluin reported sadly, "and though I slew none, yet none did I save, for I came too late upon the battle to draw sword. Even then the oath foreshadowed the sundering of hearts to come, for the Host of Feanor rode the Sundering Sea in stolen ships, leaving behind the House of Fingolfin to a long march upon the coast. I can lay claim to neither guilt nor innocence. Never after did I cleave to the House of Feanor, but served only the House of Fingolfin." She bowed her head to the king and queen, though she suspected that she had been closer to many of the Teleri then either of them, save by descent through blood. Around the dais the counselors muttered and whispered amongst themselves.

"Know thou, O King, that their sworn oath drove the hearts and overmastered the minds of the Host of Feanor on that day and on many days to come, and that no lasting good and much evil came hence from it. As a madness did it afflict them. Betrayal and kinslaying followed all the Noldor ever after, for by that oath we were cursed to heartbreak and doomed to fail."

"Thy words speak of doom sure," King Lenwin said gravely, "and that doom walked apace down centuries to the ruin of all I wager. Surely evil dogged evil once that road was trod. Wroth am I for the slaying of my kin, yet perchance no vengeance I might will outstrips that brought down by those upon themselves. Surely thy tale unfolds to yet greater evil and yet deeper heartbreak? Speak on, I pray thee."

Helluin nodded and continued, for all was as the king had said. Six hundred years of defeat and evil had followed the oath, and the curse had harried all to ruin. She spoke of the wars of Beleriand and the fall of lords good and evil. She told of the destruction of every kingdom of the Noldor in Middle Earth and of heroism and triumph of spirit in despite of the loss. Long she continued, relating the fall of Nargothrond, of Doriath, of Gondolin, and of the Falas. Noldor and Sindar and Men, all divided, all brought to ruin's edge, and all trapped in the struggle against the Great Enemy. To the fortunes of their Telerian kin the Nandor paid particular attention. Elwe's establishment of Doriath with Melian at his side was greeted with amazement, his eventual death at the hands of the Naugrim with wailing and curses, for he had been the first high king of all the Teleri. The Laiquendi were of particular interest too, but of them Helluin could relate little.

The lamps burned low and the night grew old, and for the most part silence ruled the hall. Not in anyone's memory had such wealth of tidings been heard. No questions were voiced, and but few comments, and those only by King Lenwin and Queen Calenwen. Many gasped in surprise and then stifled their outbursts. Many wept. And in the telling of the tale, those whose hearts had been first turned against the Noldor in wrath soon fell to sorrow and pity.

"Of the rising of pale Isil and bright Anar we knew," King Lenwin said in wonder, "that they be battle-lights we knew not. Doomed were ye, yet not forsaken. Great in mercy the Valar be. Many fell shadow-shapes fled yonder lights and menace after lay much reduced. We gave thanks and give it still, and praise also. In this thy doom gifted us, Noldo."

"The rise of the star also we marked, yet knew not its import," Queen Calenwen commented of Gil-Estel. "No tale of bravery nor of love so deep and true have ever we heard such as lived in Beren son of Barahir and Luthien Tinuviel. Majestic I deem it, to entwine thus the doom of generations. For sooth, much beauty stands 'midst sorrow, and fated to fall, yet nary greater deeds hath we heard spoken in this hall."

"Yet ere the tale finished all were lost," Helluin continued, "even unto the land of Beleriand itself, for 'twas whelmed 'neath the sea and all the north foundered. The coming of the Valar in wrath broke the very bones of Arda asunder. And at the last Morgoth was o'erthrown and made prisoner. The Great Ones did battle in mortal lands and were victorious, yet even from their hands were the Silmarils lost. All hast passed away, the times faded but to memories of bittersweet triumphs and woe. Across the sea hath most returned, and so forsaken the lands of their heartbreaks and fruitless quest."

"And what of thee, Helluin of the Host of Finwe?" Asked Queen Calenwen.

For a moment Helluin stood silent before the dais, shaking off the mood her narrative had birthed. She'd found that melancholy clung to her at the telling of the tale and at the recollection of so many memories.

"Long ago under Varda's stars did I journey Middle Earth as the Host of Finwe followed Orome's horn ever west, heeding the Summons of the Valar. Many lands I traversed and much wonder did I see, yet more wondrous discoveries imagined ever tempted my heart with the desire of exploration. The yearning for the Light of the West and the call of the sea grew balanced with the call of Middle Earth. I found that while here I wished to be there, and once there I longed again to travel here. Three thousands and sixty years and more did I dwell in the Blessed Realm, but when others spoke of return, I went along. No oaths did I swear nor riches did I seek, save only the enrichment of my own knowledge. Beyond this purpose lay only want of vengeance upon the Great Enemy."

"And so thence by thine own design, thou art unhoused, a wanderer," King Lenwin said sadly, "bereft of kin and home, lord and land."

"Sooth say thee, O King, a lone wanderer, unconstrained by oath and curse, and freed at last of my people's doom," replied Helluin. "'Tis as I'd wished at last."

Much as the Nandor reveled in their freedom 'neath the sky and boughs, the thought of solitary living was anathema to them. Among themselves they were social and gregarious by nature. Helluin's desire to wander the lands alone was wholly alien and even deemed a dark trait, an aberration perhaps, the outcome of having lived so long under Doom of the Valar and at war with the Dark Lord. That she had spent thousands of years traveling alone in the Blessed Realm would have seemed madness to them.

"Whither shalt thou go?" King Lenwin asked after a few moments pause. "Hast thou any destinations known upon thy road?"

"I woulds't by thy leave explore this forest apace," Helluin finally said, "for the noble mallorn was once known to me upon Tol Eressea. Indeed 'tis a great mystery to find such here and I would enjoy again seeing its growth."

"Thou woulds't wander our lands, Noldo?" Queen Calenwen asked. "Doth thou find them fair as do we?"

"Indeed so, my Lady," Helluin said, "for Vasa's light through yonder leaves in afternoon calls forth to my mind images of golden Laurelin that is forever lost. By night Isil's beams shine silver upon the boughs, and after gentle rains would recall Telperion's argent dew. Here in thy land art memories quickened, and 'neath Varda's stars, almost the endless twilight too might be revisited. The balm of nostalgia and memory…soothing comfort for a while. Thence after a time I shalt pass north and east."

"Not for naught do my people keep watch upon hither wood," King Lenwin declared, "for by night may evil come'th. Down Nanduhirion from Hithaeglir to waylay and abduct at times come Yrch. Wild men roam the borders doing evil ere they art repelled. None alone find safety in the forest, Helluin. Thou woulds't find danger oft as not, and as surely as wonder."

"Sooth say thee, O King? Agents of the Enemy yet trouble thy lands? In despite of his fall they persist apace? Know this then, O King. I shalt gladly destroy all such whom I encounter in thy lands or any other upon Middle Earth." For a moment the thought of Morgoth's minions still bringing evil to the world kindled her wrath and the blue fire was lit in her eyes. The Nandor drew back from her for they could sense the darkness within. "I pray thee grant me thy leave, King Lenwin, and in payment my sword shalt drink the blood of thine enemies so long as I walk thy lands."

The king spoke to Helluin, though still unsettled by her display. Like most of his people he was too poorly traveled to have ever before encountered any of the Noldor, and even among the Noldor, Helluin's battle rage was renowned. None of the Nandor had walked in Beleriand nor witnessed the wrath of the Calaquendi at war.

"Leave I grant thee to walk these lands, Helluin. And yet more, I name thee a Hunter. Thou art free to pursue any and all of evil kind to the death in the name of the Crown. In this land thou shalt find succor and rest so long as thou doth tarry 'neath the mellyrn. May the Valar bless thee and thy travels."

Then turning to the counselors and scribes, the king worded his decree that it be made published knowledge and the law of the land. His command was written and shortly messengers were dispatched to the corners of the realm. Ere morning fully broke, all the guards and hunters in the forests had heard the king's words. Even those sentries in the most distant talans had been informed that a fell wanderer had taken service with their king. It was the right action at the right time, though none could know it on that night. Rather those in the hall proceeded to feasting and song, and the king and queen encouraged their guest to take repast and rest from her journey, and many were the words spoken that night of the outer world and the lands beyond the sea. Long indeed did Helluin speak with King Lenwin and Queen Calenwen, and Haldir of the north march.

Helluin remained in the precincts of the city for five days, just long enough to carve a bow and fletch a quiver of arrows. She noted the interest the Nandor paid her labors and instructed those who came nigh. The weapon she created was akin to those of the Maiar of Orome the Hunter save somewhat smaller, and was in form like those strung in the Blessed Realm. Such weapons had accompanied the Noldor to war in the Hither Lands.

The bow itself was heavier and longer than those of the Nandor. More importantly, it was a recurved rather than a simple bow. The arrows were heavier as well and Helluin tipped them with sharp-bladed points much like small spearheads, rather than simple sharpened tips, for these would be used to hunt armored prey. Long years hence, this design would become the basis for the chief weapon of the Galadhrim of Lothlorien.

To Be Continued


	8. In An Age Before Chapter 8

**In An Age Before - Part 8

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**Chapter Six**

_**Rhovanion Nigh the Gladden Fields – The Second Age of the Sun**_

On the sixth day Helluin left the city of the Nandor and made her way in peace northwards through the trees. Her intention was to make a survey of the forest and in this way learn its extent and margins. Her method was to encircle a land and then work her way inwards, discovering thus its secrets while already knowing the nature of the whole and the avenues of retreat. She had used much the same method in Eriador.

By midweek she had reached the northern borders of the forest, nigh the Gladden Fields, for in those days the extent of the wood was greater than in later ages, and yet already less than it had once been. By climbing high into the crown of a tree, Helluin discerned the peak of Fanuidhol standing due west, mantled with perpetual snow. Of the Golden Wood of which later tales have told, by the closing of the Third Age of the Sun, the forest's size had been halved. Helluin swung her gaze in a circle, from the Hithaeglir in the west, north to the Gladden Fields, east to the vastness of Greenwood Forest, and finally south from whence she'd come. Beyond King Lenwin's realm a narrow field separated the mellyrn wood from a darker forest, lying like a shadow between the mountains and the river. Her Elvish eyes revealed the shimmering ribbon of Anduin, glinting with silver highlights ere it diminished into the haze of the distant south, far across a broad and rolling land. And finally on the furthest margins of her sight, a hint of dark heights capped with white against the sky that spoke of mountains. The world was wide and Helluin was determined to see it all eventually, but for now, she let herself rest. The tree was comfortable and she felt secure amongst the boughs far above the ground. It was the perfect place to forget everything for a while and just be at ease.

For some time Helluin simply relaxed, lying prone on her back atop a large branch, enjoying the warmth of the sun overhead and the cool whisper of the breeze soothing her skin. The lazy day lulled her, the songs of birds nearby serenaded her ears, and in all ways the setting was idyllic. Soon she closed her eyes and fell into that waking dream that passes amongst the Eldar for sleep. Above her fractured sunlight flickered across her closed lids, painting her vision with reds and oranges and yellows. The shifting of the leaves recalled the susurration of flames whispering upon timbers. Quick alternations of the sun's heat and cool breeze created a simulacrum of the dancing radience of a fire close by. Helluin recalled the burning in the woods about the Pass of Sirion, south of the Fen of Serech, as she'd retreated with the Host of Gondolin from the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. There Glaurung, the great wyrm of Morgoth, and the Valaraukar had lit the northlands with the fire of their combat. It had seemed that all of Middle Earth was aflame.

While Turgon's captains, Glorfindel and Ecthelion had held the flanks, Helluin had taken the rear guard nearest the valiant brethren Hurin and Huor. Indeed during the battle her bloodlust had driven her to such violence that the Gondolindrim had been appalled by her murderous ferocity. They had very nearly left her behind on the field. Only the Edain of Dor-lomin, alone of all their allies that day, had faced her wrath and urged her away. They were intending to die, and in that hour they knew no fear.

"Thou shalt in days ahead repay this sacrifice we make for thy lord," Huor had declared with the foresight of the doomed, "for thou shalt succor the sons of my house yet to be."

Despite her mania, Helluin had quit the field, last of the Host of Gondolin, for she had over heard the words Huor had spoken to Turgon shortly before. Her doom encompassed a fate yet to come. In Gondolin and Avernien she had paid her debt to the House of Huor. For the doomed House of Hurin she had done nothing; indeed, of his family's fate she knew nothing so long as Gondolin stood. Only later, from survivors of Doriath, did any tidings come, and those were heartbreaking, for the curse of Morgoth Bauglir was potent. The memories were poignant; the scent of smoke jerked her to full awareness.

The sun had shifted during her rest and now lay westward and orange. The flock of songbirds had been replaced by a murder of crows cawing near the margin of the forest. There she spied a thin column of smoke rising, and ever so faintly the clash of arms and cries of pain. She heard the voices of Yrch!

In a moment Helluin was up and sprinting through the branches far above the ground. There she covered the distance to the eaves of the forest faster than the swiftest upon land paths afoot. She also began her descent far away so that as she came nigh the burning she was but three fathoms above the ground. Before breaking from cover, she stopped and surveyed the situation. What she saw filled her with rage.

Just beyond the forest's margin stood a homestead, a comfortable log cabin surrounded by a split rail fence. A garden of flowers with beehives amongst them she could see, and beyond, tilled fields of corn, wheat, and hay. Near the cabin stood a much larger barn with its own fenced paddock, a water trough and bales of feed lying close at hand. But the thatched roof atop the cabin was afire and flaming arrows were flying from the woods to her north.

Before the cabin stood a great, black-haired Man, armed with a massive axe, and about him lay already the bodies of a dozen Yrch. The Man appeared to be alone, and yet he fought on undaunted by the numbers of his enemies for he moved with speed and power, wielding his chosen weapon with swift and deadly strokes. Helluin had seen enough. It was time for action.

Quickly she moved north amongst the branches, seeking for the archers who had fired the cabin's roof. She found them soon enough, a company of a dozen mountain Yrch in ragged armor of ill-tanned leather and rusty plates, shooting with the short black bows common to their kind. Helluin worked her way in behind them, slaying them with her own bow in silence one by one until no more of their arrows flew. She left them where they fell, a feast for the crows if those birds could stomach their bitter flesh, and then she moved forward to the edge of the trees.

The battle beyond the forest was continuing but the odds seemed to ill-favor the black haired Man. Yet more Yrch had arrived and most were converging on their only opposition, encircling him and edging in ever closer. The big Man was defending his homestead like a bear would its den, surging forward with unexpected speed to hew any Orch too slow to scuttle out of reach. More of their dead piled up, but Helluin could only wonder how long he could maintain his strength without tiring. The Yrch were numerous; counting the dead and the living, three dozens at least, and adding the dozen archers she'd slain, the leader and his lieutenant, they would have made up a standard company of fifty. It was the first time Helluin had seen Yrch ordered for battle since the wars of the First Age had ended.

From her vantage point Helluin could see a pair of Yrch sneaking away from the fighting and circling back toward the barn. They stopped by its doors and worked with flint and steel to kindle there a blaze. The thought made Helluin's blood boil. They intended to fire the barn for the simple cruelty of burning the animals inside. She moved from the eaves of the forest, knocked an arrow and let fly. The shaft sped past the fighters in front of the burning cabin to pin one of the Yrch to the barn wall by his neck. The second recoiled away in shock only to have Helluin's second arrow catch him in the eye. The sharp-bladed arrowhead exploded out through the back of his skull and continued on to imbed itself in the wall of the barn.

Somehow in the midst of the fighting the Man had seen what had transpired. The thought of what the Yrch had intended enraged him. With a roaring growl he waded forward, his axe sweeping in a wide arc and hewing off the heads of three Yrch standing in a row. Yet the rest regrouped, and then under the lash of their leader's guttural cursing they advanced again together. Soon the Man was hemmed in a ring of jagged blades that harried him like a cloud of midges about a stag. The Yrch seemed to be growing bolder. They danced in to try their luck with a swipe here and a jab there. Almost they scored, yet the Man's axe kept them at bay for a while longer. Still their superior numbers and the prolonged combat would take their toll eventually, for his stamina would wane.

Helluin dropped her bow and quiver and slipped the mithril hauberk over her head. Then she charged to the Man's aid, drawing her sword as she came. At the fence she launched herself airborne, rising into a flying cartwheel over the rails. When she landed there was fire in her eyes and it burned for those uncounted who had died at the hands of Yrch such as these. Few creatures in Middle Earth ignited an Elda's rage so thoroughly as the Orch soldiery of the Great Enemy. And here she had found them again, still about their mischief, intent on the destruction and murder for which their kind had been bred. Few of the Eldar hosted the battlemania that had inhabited Helluin since she'd crossed into Middle Earth. The blue light blazed from her eyes as she raced forward, and she caught the outermost of the Yrch unawares.

The first died with their faces still turned toward the lone Man. Their heads tumbled to lie at their own feet before their bodies staggered and fell. Then the Yrch became aware of her and they wavered, indecisive, long enough for her to slay a handful more where they stood. Now they turned their attention to her, only finally realizing that she was an Elf, but in that moment the axe swept the heads from yet another handful, their leader among them.

The soldiers cried out in dismay, voicing shock and fear in their vulgar tongue, for they saw the tide had turned against them. Though still outnumbering the defenders, they were hemmed in between a deadly axe and a swift black sword. Both the Man's size and Helluin's blazing eyes sapped what little courage the Yrch claimed. They tried to pull together in hopes of winning free to flee the battleground, but neither Helluin nor the Man would stand for it.

"Beltho huiniath!" Helluin yelled. And she dove into their midst.

No blade wielded by any Orch in any age could bite on the mithril armor of the Dwarves, and the battle prowess of the Noldor outshone that of any short-lived goblin soldier. Helluin knew no fear, only the tide surge of her wrath. She slipped among her foes, slaying them at will in their terror, while beyond her the axe whistled and sang with their blood. Even the mightiest of the Naugrim would have hailed the slaughter that axe wrought in those moments. Surprisingly quickly it was done. Not a single Orch lived.

Helluin quickly shifted her eyes right and left as she turned quarter to quarter in a battle crouch. The enemies were utterly vanquished. Nothing moved save the man, who had leaned on his weapon and was wiping his brow on his sleeve. Slowly the blue fire faded from her eyes. Slowly the sounds of birdsong returned from the trees. The shadows had grown long and the sun was already fallen 'neath the heights of the Hithaeglir to the west. Helluin finally relaxed and stood upright. She drew the hauberk from her head and turned to face the homesteader. He regarded her with surprise and open interest. For several moments they appraised each other and then he spoke in a deep rumbling voice.

"Well met, stranger to me, though thou be no stranger to battle or the enemy I wager," he said in accented Sindarin. He held her eyes without fear, undaunted by her appearance and behavior. "I am Berlun, son of Brulun."

"Well met then, Berlun," Helluin replied, happy to hear a language other than the antique tongue of the Elves of Celebrant, or worse yet, the Common Speech of Eriador. After wiping off the Orch blood, she sheathed her sword. "I am Helluin of the Noldor, an explorer and newly appointed Hunter of King Lenwin."

He regarded her a moment, then said, "A strange tale I would guess, that a Noldor serves as a Hunter to King Lenwin of the mellyrn woods. Hmmm. My grandfather met him when first we came down from the mountains to live here. He only commanded us not to stray in the forest."

"So, thy people hath lived some time here nigh the forest? Art there other homesteads such as thine nearby?"

"Nay, we are few and hath always been. Some of my people live north along the Great River, but they art scattered with many miles between. We need space to roam and to feel free."

"Yet being alone invites attack," Helluin said, looking about at the dead Yrch.

"Too true," Berlun replied, "and ever more so more recently it seems. Never before hath so many come together. I fear this betides the way of things to come."

To Helluin his words foreshadowed the return of evil. It seemed that the numbers of fell creatures had been recovering since the fall of Morgoth, and now they were threatening the lands again. The claims of King Lenwin supported this appraisal. Helluin felt that soon she would be more hunter than explorer. She sighed at the prospect.

"Such is the thought of the king as well. He gave me warning of the growth of evil in his realm, and it seems that such is also true beyond his borders. It makes me fear a return to the Dark Years of the Great Enemy who is vanquished. Such times favor not those alone or few."

Berlun nodded in reluctant agreement and cast his eyes to the darkening peaks of the Hithaeglir. "Yet someday hence shalt we return," he whispered with grim longing.

Helluin followed his gaze, thinking of the enemies her friends the Naugrim might soon find assailing their realm. But they were many, well armed and hardy, and their mansions were strong. _It may be a while and perhaps not in your lifetime ere your people again tread in freedom amidst the heights,_ she thought, but she said nothing for a while. The slopes darkened with the coming night even as they stood.

"Night falls," Berlun finally said, "and I would welcome thee in my home, burnt though it be. I believe there might still be food and drink for the evening meal. Come share such with me as I can provide. Seldom hath any come to my people with aid so timely."

Helluin looked from the mountains to the cabin. The roof thatch had mostly burnt away leaving the beams and joists exposed, but the log walls still stood, too sturdy to have caught from the heat of the flaming rushes above. She nodded her assent.

"Gratefully will I accept the hospitality of thy home, Berlun, but let me first fetch my bow." Seeing his nod she trotted towards the edge of the forest as he turned toward his damaged homestead.

When she returned she found the door ajar and Berlun within kindling a fire in the hearth. The structure was cozy even with the darkening sky visible through the beams overhead. A trestle table and benches stood near one side, a pantry with crocks and baskets of foodstuffs filled the area past the hearth to the rear. Along the opposite wall stood a loft with a low bed and a chest, beneath which a storage area was located. A couple of comfortable chairs and a couch bracketed the hearth, and a low table as well.

After brushing away the fallen ashes and cinders, Berlun bade Helluin seat herself near the hearth. He then poured them mugs of strong mead that Helluin found greatly refreshing. Next he set about mixing a dough of flour, milk, honey, dried fruits and nuts. This be brought to the fire and baked on a slab amidst the coals. When the cakes were done he shared them out and they were both occupied in eating for a while. It was good wholesome fare and they ate and drank their fill, for Berlun continued refilling their mugs and baking fresh cakes as they ate. At last they were sated and sat a while longer in silence staring into the fire. Finally Berlun spoke.

"Helluin, I must go out to meet a while with some others of my people. Please stay inside until morning's light since danger walks the night beyond thy forest. I shalt see thee in the morn, and again, thou hast my thanks for thy aid this day."

Helluin briefly puzzled over this news, that Berlun would meet his kin in the dark hours while danger walked the more freely, but she knew not his ways and simply nodded to him as he prepared to leave. She noted that he left carrying neither weapons nor provisions nor a torch.

After he strode away into the darkness she sat a while longer, feeling well fed and contented, and yet curiosity had always ruled her. The night's dangers daunted her not at all, Noldo who had fought the Great Enemy through centuries in the west that is no more. And so, after what she deemed a half-hour had passed, she rose and slipped out of the cabin, tracking the footprints of her mysterious host.

She found that he had headed immediately north and that he was moving fast. A furlong from the cabin his steps disappeared, only to be replaced by animal tracks. This fact she marked and she feared for her new friend. His boots showed that his way had joined that of a great bear, and it was the bear that had left the meeting. Helluin tracked the bear. For many hours that night she followed the steps of the bruin as it continued north, and sometime near midnight she heard ahead the sounds of several animals amidst a copse of trees. Here she departed from the trail and took to the branches. Slowly she advanced, maintaining silence and thankful that the wind was still and any scent of her was far above the ground. Soon she came to a strange sight.

At its center the copse was bare save for the leaf mould lying thick upon the ground. There was a space, roughly circular and about four fathoms across, and within it sat a half-dozen of the largest bears Helluin had ever seen. They were nearly cheek by jowl and easily double the size of the black bears of the woodlands. The one standing upright on his hind legs reached little less than two fathoms in height. As Helluin continued her spying they spoke in turns, addressing each other in a rumbling language that seemed part bear and part Man. Slowly she came to pick out a word here and a word there, and gradually she was able to apprehend somewhat of their conversation. It seemed they were arguing about the future, about the Yrch, and about herself.

Long she watched and listened, her attention rapt, for she was seeing something she had never before encountered. It was plainly obvious to her that Berlun and his people were possessed of some magic that allowed them to change their skins. Shape shifting had always been the province of sorcerers and gods, the most insidious of course being Sauron Gorthaur. She doubted that Berlun or his kith and kin were immortals, for the Man had spoken of his grandfather, and they had obeyed the will of the Nandor of the woods. Furthermore, if her ears reported true, these Men were debating whether to move or stand against the threat of the Glamhoth. These were not the concerns of the Undying of Aman, nor even of those lesser spirits who had always dwelt in Middle Earth. These were the concerns of mortal Men, were-crafty though they be.

Eventually the bears reached some agreement, at least for the present, deciding to patrol the foothills of the mountains in the areas near their respective homesteads. They would continue to meet, and if the Orch incursions became more threatening they would change their response. The meeting broke up and the bears took their leave, each in a different direction. Helluin let them pass beyond the copse before she swiftly made her way back to the ground. Once out of the trees she hastened south, moving silently and with Elven swiftness. She passed Berlun unseen, being little more than a fleet footed shadow among the fields. She was back in the cabin lying still when he returned ere dawn and none the wiser. She flicked her eyes open and shifted to acknowledge him and then returned to the appearance of rest. He regarded her a moment and then climbed up into his loft and was soon asleep. They were both up again shortly after dawn.

"Where does thy way take thee now, Helluin?" Berlun asked as they broke their fast with cakes, milk, and nuts.

"I resolved to tarry nearby for a day or two and see if more Yrch attack," she replied, thinking that she could be of assistance in either the defense of the homestead or its repair. The cabin at least needed a new roof. "I suspect another company may come hither since the last went missing. If so, then it would confirm that they're part of a force larger than those defeated yesterday and King Lenwin might find that of interest."

Berlun regarded her only a moment before answering. "Thy aid would be welcome, Helluin. I hath much to do and thy keen eyes watching for more Yrch, as well as thy bow and sword would be a great help. Greater still would be the advantage of knowing aforetime if any more come."

"In that case, I shalt backtrack the Orch company and try to discover where they came from. I should return ere nightfall," she said as she rose from the table. She gathered her weapons and bade Berlun farewell.

During the early morning Helluin easily traced the Glamhoth's path, which led into the forest but stayed near its edges. The trail led west as she'd suspected, towards the foothills of the Hithaeglir and north of Azanulbizar, the east gate of Khazad-dum. As noon approached she found the trees thinning and finally ending, having progressed from mellyrn to mixed hardwood, and last to pine. Already the land was rising, and Helluin continued to follow the trail, just a scuffed footprint here or a flattened blade of grass there, but obvious to her. The Yrch had cared little for the covering of their tracks on their way down slope. It seemed they'd been unconcerned about being discovered. It was a bad sign. They had grown bold.

Through the afternoon the view eastward opened up as the land rose yet higher. Now Helluin moved carefully, staying out of sight so much as was possible, while not knowing from where she might be watched. She had entered a rocky dale that narrowed as it gained altitude, and further ahead she could see broken cliff faces and tumbled boulders. It was the kind of land that could hide many caves and cracks, many lairs and dens. Near a cliff face she found yet more evidence of Yrch; signs of meetings, charred areas, and from some dark doors in the rocks, an outpouring of the foul smell of rotting flesh. Finally, with but three hours of sunlight left to the day she turned back, hastening down slope on her return to the homestead. That night she and Berlun spoke again at the evening meal.

"Berlun, I tracked the Yrch many miles into the foothills. Their trail was plain to see, but I came not to the trail's true end. Higher in the dale to the west is perhaps their lair, in one of the many cave openings in the cliff faces I saw. They are not so very near, but still too close."

"Too near, as thou say, for comfort if their numbers be great," Berlun agreed. "And they hath grown unwary…leaving clear tracks and attacking in daylight as they did."

"I agree. Bold they hath become. It bodes ill for all if they hath truly grown great in numbers and hath taken a chief. What hast grown lately worse can only grow fouler."

Berlun nodded. Something would have to be done, and the sooner the better.

"Think on this, Helluin," he proposed, "for I know few move with more assurance in the night than the Eldar who arose before the sun and moon. Perhaps some of my people would be willing to follow that trail uphill in the dark hours, for they are very night-sighted and fear the Yrch no more than me. If we moved during the dark and attacked with the sun we could upset them for they would not expect it."

Helluin looked at Berlun in surprise. She doubted not that he was valiant, but assaulting an Orch lair, underground and with their numbers unknown, was bravery bordering on folly. Still, she liked the idea. They certainly wouldn't expect to be attacked in their lair, and surprise could account for much in battle. An increasingly feral grin curled her lips.

"The eyes of the Yrch will spy us by day or night, unless we go with great stealth and few in number. Less expected to them would be an attack on their lair at night, in the time that would favor them most. Either way Berlun, if thy people accept such a plan and proceed, I shall join thee in the endeavor. In fact I may be able to enlist some allies, sturdy fighters, none better in warfare underground, and oh how they despise the Yrch."

"Then tonight I shalt meet again with my people," Berlun said, a grin shaping his own lips. It was not a friendly expression any more than Helluin's was. In fact, it was more a baring of teeth. He nodded to her, liking her idea more by the moment. A company of bright-eyed Elves with swords and bows would be welcome aid.

"Then tomorrow I shalt seek my…allies. I shalt probably be gone three days."

That night Berlun again left the cabin. Helluin had no need to follow him again for she knew where he was going and why. In the morning he hadn't yet returned when Helluin left. A note she wrote and set under a mug on the table for him. Then she made her way quickly west to the eaves to the forest where she turned somewhat south. It was mid-afternoon ere she struck the course of Celebrant where she turned west.

As the day faded to dusk, Helluin walked the road to Azanulbizar, passing the Mirror Mere and finally coming to the great gate of Khazad-dum in the last of the day's light. There she was greeted by the gate wardens and admitted, while messengers sought the lords she'd requested audience with. As she strode the deep-delved halls again, many welcomed her as a returning friend and many she greeted in the tongue of Durin's Folk. She had been absent barely a moon. After she had supped with friends among the Guild of Smiths, a messenger found her and brought her to an audience with Narin son of Nurnin, a captain of the Host of Khazad-dum. Before him she reported the happenings of the past few days.

"Just two days ago a full company of Yrch, fifty in number as in the days of war, with captain and lieutenant, bows and swords, came against a homestead north of the forest. There they met defeat, yet I deem them but one company among many," Helluin said.

"Many times of late hath our prospectors sighted Yrch in small bands, and this more frequently, but not yet hath they sighted war bands as of old," Narin said, quaffing mead from a golden chalice. "It bodes ill if they hath been organized again. Yet so it would seem from thy report of the attack. We hath long sought their hiding places yet only a few small caves hath we found, and those but weakly held. These we destroyed."

"These Yrch make their den in a dale to the north, I wager, with many entrances amongst the cracks in the cliff face. I came there and saw spoor of the foul creatures, but entered not for the hour had grown late with the daylight fast waning, and I was alone. Yet little doubt hath I that the source of the company is there, though whether it is their great stronghold or not, I cannot tell."

"Any gathering place of Yrch is a place to be embattled," Narin said grimly, "for the only good Orch is a dead Orch." Helluin nodded in agreement and drained the remains of her cup. An attendant refilled it for her.

"In this we agree, and in other matters besides," she declared. "The people of the homesteader shalt stand with us against the Yrch, of whom they hath had battle with increasing frequency of late. 'Twas in fact the homesteader who put forth the desire of assaulting their stronghold." Here Narin regarded her with curiosity. The Naugrim had seldom allied themselves with any save their own kin and their acceptance of Helluin herself was unusual enough. They knew little of Men. He raised a brow, begging more information. Helluin leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially.

"Narin, these homesteaders claim homelands of old in the mountains, but they hath been driven out by Yrch upon a time past. Hence they were perhaps known to thy kin once. They are mortal Men surely, but more robust than any others I hath seen in these lands. The one I met fought valiantly, armed with a great double-bladed axe, and he had black hair and eyes. Great strength and endurance hast he, yet he eats no meat. He named himself Berlun son of Brulun…and he is a shape-shifter."

Narin gave her a cunning grin and an almost-wink of one eyelid, but he made no comment about her news. Still, Helluin had a strong impression that he knew somewhat of these homesteaders, in fact perhaps more than she.

"I think it would be a just cause to send forth a company to do battle with these Yrch," he said, "and many whom I know will go willingly to spill their blood. Say nothing of the Man's prowess, Helluin. Many, I wager, shalt recognize him on sight though, yes, yes. It shalt be a glorious battle."

"I believe Berlun is gathering such strength of his people as will join him to attack, and as soon as he may. His homestead was a day's fast journey to the northeast on foot for me, and I at least hath given word to return thither in two days' time…"

"Tomorrow I shalt organize a force from the black companies, and we shalt march to the eaves of the forest where the dale opens out. There we shalt meet thee and Berlun's folk, and in the meantime, we shalt slay any Orch who ventures downhill. Then together we shalt follow thy trail to their lair and slay all we find. I favor not the notion of Yrch in strength living so near and going unchallenged."

"Berlun felt the same way, Narin. He too desired no such threats remaining at liberty to do evil nearby. I shalt tell him all that thou hast said and I shalt meet with thee 'neath the eaves of the forest on the third day hence."

"So be it, Helluin of the Noldor. Soon we shalt stand together against the enemies of all."

"So be it, Narin, Captain of Khazad-dum. We shalt slay our enemies together at last."

They drained their cups and clasped forearms in token of agreement on their plan.

Three days hence the morning sun rose in the east, bathing the forest in a warm light of gold, while on the eaves of the wood stood fifty of the Naugrim. They were clad in blackened mail and wore the helms and masks of Durin's Guard, and each carried both a long double-bladed axe and a shorter pair of single-bladed axes in their belts. All were shod in iron, with greaves and tassets, and armored gauntlets. Indeed little save their beards and eyes were visible. And they were as hard and hardy as stone itself.

Moments later their band was joined by Helluin and a half-dozen men. Helluin wore as always, her bow and sword, and the armor of mithril that the Naugrim had made for her, but the men came unarmored and unarmed. They bore not even the axes of settlers in the forest, nor knives, nor wore any plate or mail. In fact, they looked more as those headed for a meal rather than a battle. Still only a few of the Naugrim looked at them askance. As Narin had said, their company was familiar to most of the Dwarves.

Helluin, Berlun, and Narin met and quickly exchanged greetings, and then confirmed the march.

"My thanks, Helluin," said Berlun after greeting Narin, "for great and valiant allies hath thou brought to our quest. The fathers of my fathers and their fathers before them into ancient times knew the _Gonnhirrim_, the Masters of Stone, and held their works in reverence and wonder. Great is my rejoicing to meet again with common purpose."

"Indeed it is so," Narin said, "and 'tis said that long ago our forefathers aided each other against the enemy when sun and moon were young. I too rejoice in this meeting."

"At first I had thought 'twas a company of King Lenwin's folk thou sought to bring to the battle, Helluin, and they too would hath been welcome, but never were my people and his allied. By bringing warriors of Durin's Folk thou hast rekindled a league of friendship I had thought but a fading memory of better days past."

"Berlun, the Nandor of Celebrant defend their own with stealth and arrows, and woe be to any invading the mellyrn wood. But their warfare is unsuited to battle in the deep places of the world. None in Middle Earth are more crafty nor more fell 'neath rock and stone than the sons of Durin. The Yrch hath been their hated foes ere time past recall, and worse, these dwell nigh Khazad-dum, in what was once their surface realm and mine lands. This is their battle, not the Elves'."

"All true, Helluin," Narin agreed, "and thy keen eyes hath seen true in this. Let us now proceed and bring destruction to our common foes."

The others nodded and all set out, Helluin leading them up the path she'd tracked a few days before. The Dwarves marched tirelessly uphill in a formation with the homesteaders flanking them and many conversations passed among them as they walked. Indeed many of these Dwarves and their fathers had known the fathers and fathers' fathers of the Men now at their sides. By mid-afternoon they had come nigh the broken ground and were only a mile from the cliffs. Here they took a quick rest for water and food, and then resumed their march. Helluin looked ahead and her farsighted Elven eyes marked dark forms flitting amongst the crags above. No doubt their presence had been marked by their enemies and she reported this to Narin and Berlun.

"It matters not," Berlun said, "for we hath not paid attention to stealth and wouldn't hath preserved it long in any case within their lair."

"Aye," Narin agreed, "let them ready themselves and let their fear grow a pace."

The Dwarves nodded in agreement with their leader's words. Soon all stood and resumed their march. None were surprised to find the land before the cliffs deserted when they arrived. The Yrch had withdrawn within their caves, declining to defend the surface under the sun. Yet evening was coming and the daylight would fade in a couple hours, and then it would be night, the time when the Yrch felt they would be favored.

"No don't doubt they expect us to camp the night and so plan to fall upon us at unawares in the dark," Narin remarked with an evil grin. He fingered the edge of his axe.

"There shalt be battle by night, but it shalt find them in their dens," Berlun said.

He and the other settlers set to work moving boulders, and with the help of the Naugrim, they blocked up as many of the exits to the Orch lair as they could find.

"Nay, the rats shan't bolt from their holes tonight," Narin said with satisfaction.

Helluin, knowing Yrch, also knew that for every exit they found and blocked there were no doubt two more elsewhere or undiscovered. They would be lucky to wipe out all the Yrch. She'd settle for killing the leaders and their lieutenants, and slaying such numbers as would keep the Yrch from but petty deeds for a generation. It was still an ambitious hope. Yrch leaders usually fled at the rumor of defeat, cowards that they were. She had vowed to devote special personal attention to their leader.

When full darkness had fallen there had still been no rumor of the Yrch. Perhaps they were aware that many openings to their lair had been blockaded and they were indecisive. Perhaps they waited a later hour to attack. The leaders outside declined to wait for them and instead resolved to open the battle on their own schedule.

Helluin led the allies into the dark tunnel that they'd entered through an unassuming crack in the cliff's face. Almost immediately the way widened, its rough-hewn walls a fathom apart. It led steadily downward with but a slight current brushing their faces as a foul air headed towards the surface. Unlike the mansions of the Naugrim, no lamps or torches lit the way and the stone had been hewn but not smoothed. Neither pride of workmanship nor thought of comfort had guided the Yrch's hands as they'd delved this underground way. It was silent as well, but the stillness was tense and the atmosphere close, rather than empty of menace, as a deserted place would have felt. They all knew their enemies awaited them somewhere down below.

After what seemed like hours of walking in silence the group abruptly came to a large chamber, a meeting hall of some sort, whose center held a pit filled with fire. The flames leapt up, red and smoky, but provided little actual light. All about the hall were shadows, and within those shadows many bodies moved and scuttled. An oppressive heat from the fire and the stench of many Yrch assailed their senses. The place was just such a foul lair as they had imagined awaiting them. In fact it held no surprises.

"There are at least a hundred and a half here in this hall alone," Helluin told the others as she unsheathed her sword. In the darkness a faint, ghostly, blue phosphorescence wavered over the black steel. It grew in brightness as the desire to slay her enemies grew to fill her heart. Then as the bloodlust and wrath claimed her, her voice rose to a full scream, "_Im pedo, Beltho Huiniath!"_And with that, she turned and charged towards the Yrch, eyes blazing with blue fire as the glow upon her blade flared. (_"I say, Kill 'em All!"_).

For a heartbeat the men and Dwarves stood still in shock. She'd always seemed to hold her passions in check, appearing wise and calm. Even the Naugrim among whom she'd spent two decades had never seen her other than restrained and fair-spoken. Now she appeared like a fell demon, as threatening and deadly as anything from the Dark Years of Morgoth. Helluin was already a dozen strides ahead of them and closing fast on their enemies…and despite their shock, all found her inspiring. They had come to do battle against those they hated. Finally their paralysis broke and they charged against the host of the Yrch, the Naugrim taking up her cry, "Beltho Huiniath!"

In the darkness the half-dozen men shimmered and shifted shape. Behind Helluin came not six unarmed men, but rather six great mountain bears, grizzly bruins lumbering on massive paws, their claws striking sparks on the rocky floor. Behind them hastened the company of the Dwarves, spreading out to give themselves room to swing their axes while blocking any Yrch hoping to come at them from the sides. Soon shrieking and screaming rent the air. The war cries of the Dwarves, the growling of the bears, and the clash of arms echoed in that deep hall. Yet louder than anything else came Helluin's cries of "Kill 'Em All", and the flashing of her sword as it clove the Yrch lit the battle like lightning under the open sky. The black blood of the foul creatures ran across the floor, slicking the rocks underfoot as they fought. Some tried to escape through side tunnels but the Dwarves soon chased these down and slew them as well.

Finally Helluin had come upon the Captain of the Glamhoth, a hideous goblin of great size with a scalp sewn together and iron plates riveted upon his skull. He wielded a two-handed scimitar and slashed wildly at her, but his swordplay lacked both finesse and focus. Helluin toyed with him in the depths of her dark malice for his kind, wounding him repeatedly, blocking his retreat, and forcing him to maintain the battle. She taunted him and tormented him as cruelly as any of his own kind, and indeed he entertained some hopes that she had come to usurp his place rather than kill him. He would have willingly served anyone so fell and even offered her as much. Yet finally kill him she did, hewing off his head with a mighty stroke of Anguirel that sent it bouncing across the floor to land in front of his remaining troops.

When they saw their leader's head rolling on the rocks at their feet, the Yrch gave a horrified cry and begged for mercy. Their only answers were the swipe of massive, clawed paws and the sweeping strokes of many sharp axes. The Dwarves, who had adopted Helluin's battle cry, fully intended to make it come true. In short order they did. The Yrch were slain to the last and the hall lay silent save for the breathing of the victors. In the aftermath the allies withdrew and made their way back to the surface, only too glad to breath the clean night air. Once there, Berlun spoke with Helluin.

"No idea had I at the full measure of hatred the Noldor hold for the Yrch, not even after thy fight against them in defense of my cabin," the man said.

"All my people despise these evil creations of Morgoth; always have and always will," Helluin answered grimly, "for in the Dark Years long ago did he make the first Yrch by ruining some of our own. Never shalt we forgive or forget." _My father's own brother, and my mother's cousin were amongst those first taken by the shadows nigh Cuivienen ere the three ambassadors went to Aman, and naught was ever heard of them again. _

"And do all such fight with the ferocity thou displayed this night?"

Helluin met this query with a stifled groan, yet she made response.

"Nay, Berlun, for the battlefire that burns in me comes not from that hatred but from something more personal whose redress is long past recall," she explained. The topic was one she was loath to entertain. "The Noldor still remaining in Middle Earth are few, Berlun, so few that thou may never see another in this life. Most hath returned to Tol Eressea, their Great Enemy vanquished and they being weary of fighting."

For some moments they both remained silent.

"Then indeed we have been fortunate in thy aid," Berlun said and again he fell silent. After a long pause he asked another question. "I know the Gonnhirrim be long-lived and yet still mortal. My people too are hardy, but all fall eventually to age or wounds or sickness. Yet the Eldar live forever if they art not slain, and King Lenwin counts his life story fully 1,200 years of the sun and more. In this I envy thee. How long hast thou walked this world, Helluin? Would that I could know the wonders thou hast seen."

"Berlun, none save the Valar truly live forever, and 'tis rumored that Iluvatar alone has ever been. Still to one of finite years, the span of the Eldar must seem a blessing. Hear me, Berlun, for such a life encompasses both good and ill as do all lives, only more so. Each kindred hast been granted their allotted span in Eru's wisdom and only great evil can come of dissatisfaction with one's own or the coveting of another's. I hath seen many wonders, but much heartbreak as well. Lenwin is a pup, as thou say, a scant 1,200 years in age." She sighed deeply and tallied the years in her head. "This is the 151st year since the fall of the Great Enemy and the end of the First Age of the Sun. 767 years hath passed since the Noldor returned from Aman to prosecute their vendetta against Morgoth. We came from the Blessed Realm where we had dwelt in peace for 3,670 years, yet I was born upon the westward march of my people, as they traveled Middle Earth 'neath Varda's stars. That journey took until I was 230 years of age. I reckon my current age is 4,667 years of the sun."

The number he heard clearly, yet the repercussions escaped him. It was inconceivable. In fact she was older by far than his entire race, for none of the Younger Children of Iluvatar had yet arisen until after her kindred had returned from the Blessed Realm. The Fathers of the Dwarves had awakened only 50 years ere her birth, but none of that primal generation still lived. The Onodrim had awakened about a century after Helluin's birth. Only a few Noldor born in Aman yet dwelt in Middle Earth; Galadriel, the daughter of Finarfin was one of these few, and she was 2,520 years Helluin's junior. It would have been a good bet that at that moment, Berlun stood in the presence of the oldest Noldo still in Middle Earth. As such she had few contemporaries, Cirdan for one, perhaps some of the older Sindar, and some amongst the Nandor and Avari.

Thereafter Berlun said nothing further on the subject and Helluin fell silent as well, and then finally went to speak with Narin and the Gonnhirrim. After renewing their alliances and parting in friendship, the Naugrim marched for Hadhodrond at the rising of the sun, there to celebrate a feast to commemorate their victory. They'd quietly invited Helluin but she declined and sought the peace of the mellyrn woods instead. There she resumed her explorations, traveling the perimeter of the lands and then making her way in a spiral path towards the center. Along the way she slew the occasional Yrch band, aided such of King Lenwin's people as she found having difficulties, and gave what news she gleaned to the sentries in their talans. Life went well for Helluin and for many years discovery was her greatest indulgence and occupation.

In the woods about Celebrant she discovered several herbs with healing virtues, observed the ways of many animals and discerned the kinship of their kinds, and came to know the fish of the rivers and the birds among the trees. Many of these kindreds she spoke with at whiles, and through them she gathered yet more news and hints of doings beyond the forest. And at times she would climb the tallest tree she could find and laze away an afternoon in its crown, letting her eyes roam across distant lands while giving free rein to her curiosity about places still far away.

At other times Helluin again was greeted as a guest in Khazad-dum, and they welcomed her ever more warmly, for since the attack on the Yrch's lair they had been little troubled by the foul creatures. Indeed, many years of renewed peace were enjoyed by both the Naugrim and the homesteaders. These too, Berlun and many of his kin, welcomed Helluin at those times she came among them. Over the years she saw the Man aging as those of mortal race were wont to do, yet as he aged and time passed, so too came changes that were a cause for rejoicing.

Seven years after their joint raid, Berlun took a wife, Grinda, a woman from another of the settlers' clans. She came from a homestead on the eaves of Greenwood the Great that lay across Anduin to the east. When Helluin visited the homestead two years later she found that the couple had a daughter, and the next year a son. It never ceased to amaze Helluin how fast mortal children matured. A lapse of ten years passed before her next visit. To her the time was but a short while, a span in which she'd explored an area nigh the northern banks of Celebrant where it fed into Anduin. Yet when she came again to Berlun and Grinda's cabin she found their children eager, energetic, curious, and craving adventure. At the same time she noted that the first gray had laced Berlun's beard. She herself was unchanged in appearance, and once she caught Berlun looking at her with the faintest glimmer of envy, yet he had smiled and merely offered her another honey cake as their meal progressed. The children, of course, demanded stories of ancient times, and of Beleriand and the Elven realms of the First Age. These they absorbed with wide eyes before scurrying off to recount them to each other in tones of awe.

For her part, Helluin had asked Grinda many questions about her homeland and the forest upon whose eaves her people dwelt. The woman had told her what she could, but her people never went deeply into the forest. It was the abode, she claimed, of loathsome spiders and Dark Elves, Nandor perhaps, or even some of the Avari who had found their way west. The wood had no end, she stated with certainty, for no one she had ever heard of had traversed its breadth. The words only served to kindle Helluin's wanderlust.

There came a day of autumn when Helluin traveled again to the homestead after many years' absence. Gone were the barn and the fence, and the cabin had fallen into ruin. Amongst the caved in roof and broken timbers she found no sign of burning or of attack, and yet she discerned that many a year had passed since last anyone had lived within its sagging walls. In what had once been the garden there stood a pair of mounds, and the stones upon them bore runes that she could read only with difficulty.

"_Here lies Berlun son of Brulun, gone to his fathers having seen eighty-one winters."_

And upon the mound beside it she read, _"Here lies Grinda, beloved wife of Berlun, mother of Falla and Brekun."_ Had it really been so long?

Somehow Helluin had let fifty-three cycles of the seasons slip away since her last visit, and with the passing of those years had passed the spirits of her mortal friends.

"Berlun, the life of the Eldar, long as it is, becomes the repository of memories and sadness for those things dear that hath passed beyond recall. Would that I hath bid thee farewell, my friend."

She had spent 70 years exploring the mellyrn woods and it was now S.A. 221. In King Lenwin's realm those trees were gold of leaf as were the aspen and the oak. Change came but slowly there, yet time passed still, and in other places it seemed that change came faster. Nuts and berries had appeared for the forest animals to gather. A few late active bees buzzed around her, freed these last years to make their own hives amidst the flowers grown wild and the wheat standing unharvested in the fields beyond. To the north perhaps the great bears yet met under the stars in the copse…Berlun's son among them. Helluin felt old and tired as she stood there in the sunlight. She felt as if everything around her testified to the cycle of life, death, and rebirth that ruled all things in Middle Earth save herself. _The Life of the Eldar is a window through which to endlessly view Arda; a seat in it but not of it,_ she thought with a touch of melancholy.

Her sadness brought back the memories of earlier times and earlier losses, and of a whole way of life that had disappeared. What would her restless spirit have done had she remained in Aman? Surely by now it would be chaffing in Valinor, seeking ever longer and wider journeys in a ship of the Teleri, plying the waves of the Sundering Sea. Yes, she would be ill contented, but at least Verinno would be yet alive. Perhaps she would have been the first to build a ship to sail Ekkaia, the Encircling Outer Sea, and upon that journey come to the very Walls of Night, where 'tis said, Arda itself finds its end.

What would she have done had she never remained in Middle Earth, but instead returned to the Blessed Realm with the other Noldor? Tol Eressea would surely be different under the sun and the moon. A shade of its ancient magic and wonder, the Light of the Two Trees, would be gone. She knew she would long for them, she who had spent most of a millennium coming to Ezellohar to stand amidst the falling luminescence of their dew as no other had done. In Aman she would miss the passing of the past worse than here in Middle Earth, for she would be constantly assailed by the memories of better times. Never again would she stand at the summit of Tuna at the blending of the lights, and turning, look through the Calacirya as that radiant beam kindled the shores of Tol Eressea to gold and silver under the dark vault of the heavens wherein Varda's stars ever twinkled. Helluin would have been miserable. She grinned.

A chuckle slipped from her lips and slowly it grew to a fey outpouring of mirth. The hysteria took her a while and she sat down hard between the mounds of her friends, as one with mind o'erthrown, and simply laughed. She had no control over this and it went on at its own pace for some time. Yet eventually it ebbed and she wiped tears from her eyes. She found that she didn't feel nearly so maudlin as she had just before. Once or twice a century, she decided, it is therapeutic to laugh. She resolved to do it again sometime. She lay back and simply looked up at the sky.

Somewhat later as Anar began its descent, Helluin rose to her feet and turned her footsteps northwards. She didn't bother looking back at the mellyrn forest and King Lenwin's realm. She could come back in a millennia or two and find something there, she thought. No, it was time to see new places and meet new people. Eventually the old lands became too well known and the old people kept dying on her…and the memories accumulated like the fallen leaves.

To Be Continued

16


	9. In An Age Before Chapter 9

**In An Age Before - Part 9

* * *

**

**Chapter Seven**

_**Greenwood the Great, Rhovanion – The Second Age of the Sun**_

Helluin was walking amidst the depths of the forest where the air was still and cool and the light dimmed through countless branches and leaves. Running water sang in soft whispered choruses from myriad freshets skipping upon pebbled beds. It was late summer, and elsewhere in the outside world crops were high, the air hot and hazy, and the day aggressively bright to the eyes. She was happy for the restraint the trees forced on their surroundings. Greenwood was peaceful and mature for the most part. Within its borders things changed slowly and comfortably and time passed lightly with tiptoe steps. The forest was a place with many mysteries and much ground to cover. Unfortunately Helluin was on a mission, hastening to the Avari in the north. Trouble had been brewing of late in _Calenglad i'dhaer_**¹**.

**¹**(**Calenglad i'dhaer, _Greenwood the Great_** Sindarin).

Since coming to Greenwood, Helluin had quartered the forest and walked most of the southwestern quadrant. She'd quickly found that it was simply too big to traipse around in without any direction. In this, Grinda had been correct. In the early years of the Second Age, Greenwood the Great extended west to the banks of Anduin, to the north 'nigh the foothills of the Ered Mithrin, and to the east it encompassed Erebor, and much of the lands between the River Running and the River Carnen that flows down from the Emyn Ang. Helluin's first walk west to east had taken her seven years, going at her own pace. Since then, she had spent another 194 years exploring.

The land revealed itself thick with life of all kinds when one took the time to look and seek it out. Yes, there were spiders, just as Grinda had once warned her of, but in truth these more often fled than troubled her. A few of the bolder ones even spoke with her, enduring her presence from a safe distance, though they were untrustworthy and she seldom believed what they had to say. More interesting were her chats with the older trees, some of whom claimed to recall the passage of the Eldar west under the stars. But most interesting of all was the ongoing dialog she maintained with those of the Onodrim whom she'd met. Helluin's first meeting with them had initially been a surprise.

She had been in Greenwood for forty-three years at the time, and had spoken at whiles with a number of the trees. They had been slow to waken and slower to harken, but eventually they had begun to whisper and finally to speak to her. One, a decrepit beech, had told her of the long passing of years under the stars, during which many of Helluin's kind had marched through as if in the blink of an eye, (though these were probably Nandor rather than Calaquendi). It made her feel good to know that the ancient times were still a real memory to some besides herself. Their "conversation" was a slow one, for oft the tree fell into a stupor of sorts and didn't surface from it to complete its sentence for a day, or a week, or sometimes even a month. Helluin had soon learned the futility of waiting. There were trees upon whom she was still waiting for the completion of a train of thought after many years. It had been on just such a day, when a myrtle tree had "dozed off" mid-sentence and she had groaned in exasperation, that a soft airy chuckling had come to her ears from all too close by. She had found that the quality of the voice was strangely familiar.

Helluin had remained still but had examined every shrub nearby very closely, hoping to discern the sad eyes she had once seen on the slopes of the Ered Wethrin near Vinyamar. She soon found that she had been looking far too low.

"Hoooo-hoooom, the wandering Elfling who listens to the trees," a deep basso had said. "I have long marked your presence, but you seem to do no harm, and so you have been indulged." Unlike the shrubs, this voice spoke an Elvish tongue even more antique than the Nandor of Lindórinand. If anything, it was closer to the archaic speech of Cuivienen. Yet the sentences were constructed with a light-hearted informality, sounding almost like a childhood vernacular to her ears.

Helluin looked upwards. Two body lengths to her left stood an ancient "tree" of a type unknown to her. This in itself was astonishing, for Helluin had long ago learned the habit and growth of every living species in the north and west. The creature that had spoken to her regarded her with calm focus from a stature of about six body heights to its eyes, although it had a crown of branches that rose another two body heights above them. The eyes were large, but dark and bright, similar in this to the shrubs. But though they also bore a familiar knowing ancientry, they weren't in the least bit melancholy or lost. Indeed, they seemed to be right at home and solidly in command of their situation, while at the same time taking few things overly seriously; perhaps it was simply a natural spirit of lightheartedness, or evidence of an irreverent sense of humor.

"Thou seem to know about me," Helluin replied, leaning back to more easily meet his eyes, "and I would know of thou as well. I am Helluin of the Noldor, called also Maeg-mormenel. Pray tell me thy name." It was only polite to ask.

"Hooooo-hooooo, a hasty name for one of such age," the _Onod_**¹** admonished, "for among our kind, a name grows with the thing named and time changes both. In my own language it would take several days to properly introduce myself, but in the language of the Elves in these parts, I am called Oldbark, Chief Caretaker of Greenwood." He looked down at Helluin apologetically. "I suspect that I am being hasty, but it's only polite to answer a polite question…ummmm, politely. And you did introduce yourself first…which I consider polite since you are the visitor here in the forest after all."

**¹**(**Onod, _Ent,_** sing., plural **Enyd**, coll.pl. **Onodrim** Sindarin…**Ent** is 3rd Age Westron)

He seemed to lean back on his long sturdy "legs" and placed a pair of "arms" on his "waist" or what would have passed for one, and regarded her. Now Helluin had known somewhat of the temperament of the Onodrim from meeting their wives, and so she too waited and composed her thoughts. Anything further worth saying should be worthy of spending time to say and she wanted to make the most of her time. Finally she decided on a simple question about the state of the forest. She switched over to the speech she'd learned in the Ered Wethrin centuries before and addressed Oldbark in his own tongue. This brought a widening of his eyes and a lean forward as he harkened to her more carefully. Now she was really speaking, and it had always seemed that few even of the Elves knew how to properly phrase a question!

The question encompassed many words, many details that rendered it precise, and it contained many qualifying phrases. It went on for some time, while Oldbark grew accustomed to Helluin's "accent", but long story short, she asked if the forest was expanding, contracting, or stable in its borders. The question was greeted with an approving nod and a long pause for consideration of a precise answer. Now Oldbark was willing to give the Elf a serious response, for her question was a serious one…at least to him. By the end of his discourse, the sun was setting and he had told her that the forest seemed stable but might actually be contracting…he'd let her know for sure in a millennium or so. Helluin nodded in appreciation and prepared to pose a second question, but Oldbark held up a "hand" and asked in the local Silvan dialect if she wouldn't prefer to accompany him to his home for the night. He needed to keep an eye on a grove of willows close by that had developed a negative attitude and were doing their best to choke off a stream. It was unbecoming and greedy, he muttered. He'd intended to do this yesterday but had instead spent the day breathing a changed air brought north by a wind from the sea. How he loved sea air. Helluin rolled her eyes and pretended to think about the options. Finally she nodded and agreed to accompany him. They set off together, moving west at a good pace.

Eventually they came to Oldbark's home, a dell 'neath the slopes of _Laiquadol_**¹**, and there they stayed their pace. Here a bubbling freshet skipped merrily down slope on a bed of quartz, white marble pebbles and glittering mica. During the daytime it would catch the sunlight in flickering silver, white, and gold, as it ran out of a pool fed by a small waterfall. The falls came over a wall of schist, (beside an upward path that continued from the entrance), and formed one side of Oldbark's home. An aisle open to the sky above traced the stream through a clearing overhung with the branches of many species, oak, maple, rowan, poplar, hornbeam, hickory, and beech among others. All were encircled by a perimeter of ancient yews that formed a living palisade that ran out from the cliff and back to it, forming a wall so dense that 'nary a mouse could have squeezed betwixt the trunks and woven branches. Only the entrance was unblocked. The entire enclosed space was about the same size as King Lenwin's hall and the trees within it stood as if holding court. Helluin looked around in admiration, then knelt by the stream and drank thirstily from a cupped hand. She found the water delicious and chill, and it gave her a tingling sensation that quickly progressed from her mouth to the furthest tips of her fingers and toes. She would have sworn that she could even detect the effects in her hair. It left her feeling thoroughly refreshed.

**¹**(**Laiquadol**, the _**"Green Head or Hill"**,_ the name of that isolated height that would later be renamed **Amon Lanc** (Sindarin) after losing its crown of trees, and finally **Dol Guldur** for the fortress Sauron built there after Greenwood had come to be called Mirkwood. Quenya)

Helluin spent several paragraphs of monologue praising the draught in the _Lamb Enyd_**¹**, much to Oldbark's delight. In response he gave a lengthy retort espousing the nourishing virtues of the fluid, warning obliquely that it left none unchanged. This struck Helluin as potentially ominous, but she detected nothing untoward save the suddenly tighter fit of her battle dress and armor. She put the thought aside as Oldbark announced that it was time for rest. He promptly took up a position alongside the stream, dipped the "toes" of one "foot" into the water, and became immobile. In fact he looked indistinguishable from any other tree. Helluin lay down where she could see the sky and viewed the stars overhead. In the peace of the darkness, Helluin belatedly realized that a dim bluish glow emanated from the water in the stream. Enchanted certainly, she thought, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and Oldbark undoubtedly believed it a blessing. Just before letting her mind drift to that place that serves the Eldar as an equivalent of sleep, she noticed that her blanket no longer reached beyond the ends of her boots.

**¹**(**Lamb Enyd, _Tongue of the Ents, lamb_**(tongue) + **_enyd_**(Ents, pl) Sindarin)

Their conversation had continued the next day, and the next, and the next. On the fourth day, Helluin finally got around to revealing to Oldbark that she had seen some of the Entwives in the Ered Wethrin, in West Beleriand, about 270 years before. The Onod had reminisced through the afternoon about the greater forest that had once been, and how to the west it had stretched beyond mountains Helluin had known as the Ered Lindon. Some of his kin had populated those woods…Ossiriand and perhaps even Taur-Im-Duinath. Next, Oldbark had looked at her and slowly composed a question concerning just what she had seen. She had replied…thoroughly. The next day they had taken up the topic again with what she had said and heard. That just about finished their fifth day together. On the sixth she had revealed that Beleriand had been inundated following the War of Wrath. The explanation of that war had taken the better part of another day. Finally, at the end of all that, Oldbark had asked if she thought those Entwives were still anywhere to be found. Helluin spent several hours weighing the evidence. She couldn't simply say, no, as she would have done days ago with anyone else. Instead, she "hedged" the topic, providing no definite answer, since in truth she hadn't seen them meet their end. Furthermore, there had been but a finite number that she had ever met and in all likelihood, there were more that she hadn't. Oldbark had seemed satisfied with that. By then, Helluin had barely been able to fit into her clothes and had taken her leave, somewhat confused and very amazed.

Since that time, she had spoken to Oldbark and several other of the Onodrim at times as she made her way through the Greenwood. For the most part they'd came to regard her as harmless. As the decades had passed, she'd grown able to discern their presence and was no longer surprised by their seeming materialization amidst the normal trees. Certain of these "normal" trees as well spoke to her on sight, though as has been said, they would often drop into torpor and fall silent in mid-conversation. She'd grown accustomed to it.

Now it was S.A. 415 and Helluin had noticed things changing in the forest. Over the proceeding decade the spiders had fallen silent and grown secretive. They no longer taunted or spoke lies to her, but instead fled at the rumor of her coming. Now they gathered in darkened places deep in the northern woods and about the eaves of the _Tundor Móreo_**¹**. The Avari in the northern precincts had even more disturbing news to tell at her last meeting with them. Indeed it was from their halls nigh the Forest River that she was returning south to Laiquadol to find Oldbark and his kin.

**¹**(**Tundor Móreo,_ tundo_**(hill) + **_-r_**(pl) + **_mórea_**(dark) +**_-o_**(gen)**,_ Hills of Darkness,_** Quenya, in Sindarin, **Emyn Duir**. Later called the **Emyn-nu-Fuin**, the **_Hills Under Shadow_**, Sindarin. In 3rd Age Westron, the **Mountains of Mirkwood**.)

She found his hall deserted and went in search of the Tree Shepherds. Around her all the forest, it seemed, was unsettled. Leaves quaked in the absence of wind. Indeed some fell, still green in summer. There was a hush in the air that felt stifling amidst the confines of the forest and it gnawed at her nerves. At night the wood groaned. She went to and fro in her search. It took her several weeks to find any of the Onodrim at all, and when she first came upon Leaflock he warned her that Oldbark had become "hasty" and "concerned". Helluin returned at once to his home at Laiquadol, and this time she waited until he arrived, though she had taken the precaution of bringing her own water.

When Oldbark finally appeared he seemed frayed, with leaves disordered and branches disarranged and spiky, like a towering vegetable hedgehog. She began to speak her tidings immediately and Oldbark answered her in Elvish. Thereafter they conversed in the Elven tongue and she could see now why Leaflock had claimed that Oldbark was being hasty. They spoke at the normal flow rate of ideas for a conversation among the kelvar! Indeed they traded more news than they had in the last thirty years.

Oldbark had seen the aftermath of chopping! To the north, nigh the Ered Mithrin, there had been a felling of sound trees! Worse, these had been left to rot where they'd fallen, cut down to no purpose! He was both horrified and angry; such as he hadn't been in a very long time. The perpetrators of this crime had borne axes. He had just come from there and had seen no homesteads, no settlements, and some of the victims had been fruit trees. And so he suspected not the activities of Men, of whom none lived nearby. The same was true of Dwarves. No, what he had seen reminded him of the predations of Glam!

Just so, Helluin had agreed, for she had taken counsel with the Avari, (and this was the result of a story in itself). Evidence of Glam and their mischief had been discovered deeper in the forest, west of the Wood Elves' realm, (they had said), and still north of the Forest River. There the Wood Elves had seen holes dug deeper than any beast was wont to dig, piles of foul leavings beside them, and the poisoning of streams. At night, spiders gathered in the trees nigh these dens. Some trees had been cut in the forest and left. The Avari hadn't seen such doings since the First Age of the Sun ere the downfall of Morgoth, of whom they knew but little. Even so, his minions had ranged even as far as their old realms in the eastern woods and they had shot no few with their bows in those days. Now they feared that the evil was returning. Therefore they had set sentries about the dens and hunters in the forest. So far they had shot only spiders.

"Bru-hoooom! Foul-mouthed, black-hearted, hasty-handed, fire-starting, axe-wielding, wretched spawn of Melkor!" Oldbark fumed. "Having them back in the forest feels like grubs boring 'neath my bark! Those creatures do nothing but destroy, and oft as not for no reason but the twisted joy of ruining. If ever there were a race that shouldn't have been, it is they. Never was a good Glamog born!"

"And the only good Orch is a dead Orch," Helluin mused, recalling the words of her friend, Narin, Captain of the Host of Khazad-dum. "Yet so long as it is but Yrch alone and few of them at that, they can be mastered," she asserted, "Especially if all those standing to suffer hold together against them."

Oldbark looked at Helluin a while, his gaze calculating.

"Your words are spoken from experience, perhaps," Oldbark finally said, "yet this is Greenwood the Great, wherein there are many places to hide, and it is the chief realm of the Onodrim. Yavanna herself appointed us its caretakers. Though many kindreds now dwell amongst the trees, it is our duty to safeguard this land's green life. And we have never allied ourselves with any among the kelvar."

"In the depths of time there were naught but the Onodrim to guard the olvar of wood and field and to care-take the land," Helluin agreed. "Yet now there art those of other kinds who hath a stake in the defeat of any Yrch in Greenwood. Would thou deny them the responsibility to do their part in bringing low the common enemy?"

"Nay, Helluin, I would bar none from combat for it is not my place to do so, but in the end, even they would not be safe if the Onodrim go to war. It has been long since such occurred and perhaps beyond the memory of those of other kindreds, yet not beyond mine. Under the stars, dark things walked amongst the trees; things of uncertain shape, shadowy in substance, but evil of spirit. They did many fell deeds here and elsewhere. Did your own people not fear them in Cuivienen ere Orome's riding? I have heard tell that it was just so. Here in Greenwood they were eaten by the trees."

The Onod's words struck home. Her family had lost kin to those very shadow spirits in the earliest days ere they'd set out on the Westward March. By now Helluin had become accustomed to Oldbark's illustrative metaphors and similes, but still his current claim left her confused. She reminded herself that Oldbark, even when speaking "hastily" in Elvish, tended to be quite precise about saying what he meant. And he had claimed that, _"…they were eaten by the trees."_ This was wholly different from claiming that the Onodrim had defeated them in battle. In all her years she had never heard of, nor suspected that such a thing could be. The trees had "eaten" the shadow creatures of Melkor? Just how had that come to pass? Other than the Onodrim, she had never seen a tree with a mouth or teeth, and she had never seen any of the Onodrim take solid food. She had never actually thought about it before, but she realized now that the shadows, which had harried and snatched her people in Cuivienen, had indeed disappeared ere the Noldor's return to Middle Earth. Here she had been traipsing about alone for over 400 years and she'd never even thought about it. In the Middle Earth that she had traveled in the time of the stars, the dark ones would've taken her for sure.

_(Now indeed most of these shadow spirits had been destroyed by the Valar during the War of the Gods against Melkor in the north. Yet afterwards, though Melkor was judged and imprisoned in the Halls of Mandos and his fortress of Utumno was broken, still many of his minions persisted undiscovered in Middle Earth, and it was upon some of these that the Onodrim had made their war.)_

"Oldbark," Helluin finally asked, "what doth thou mean, the trees ate them?"

"Ooo-hoooom…they were mulched and absorbed by root and stock,"**¹** Oldbark answered with certainty, "to the very last crumb of dust. Sour of flavor some complained, yet in the end, all were content to take their bitters."

**¹**(Which was probably Oldbark's way of saying that they had been absorbed, both _fëa _and _hroa, _if any).

Helluin could only stare at Oldbark in utter shock. All around her trees stood silent and still, and save for some drowsy conversations, never had she seen any evidence that they could do more. In no place she had ever been, not in any lore encountered, nor from the mouths of any of the wise had she heard tell of such a thing. Here was a mystery of the first order, no less a thing than the first discovery of Men or the first meetings with the Naugrim. She eyed the trees about her with a growing misgiving.

"How could such a thing come to be?" She asked softly.

"It is the belief of my kind that once long ago all trees were aware, and many sang together in great choruses, praising the Valar and the One. This was when the Valar still lived amongst us in Middle Earth, ere the Lamps fell and the world changed. But later, in the passing of their slow and uneventful lives, most fell into a sleep. Perhaps Yavanna herself set the sleeping spell upon us during the Dark Ages that followed. My memories don't stretch back that far, and yet I have dreams of that time ere we were awakened, again it seemed, 'neath the new stars. It cannot be proven yea or nay, but it is a comforting thought to us. And so even in these latter days, just as you and the Elves have done, some trees can be reawakened to speech. We rouse them as well, to wakefulness and more," Oldbark told her, "and then they are known as _Huorns_. Wild and dangerous to others they become and at whiles it takes but little effort, for their wrath is primed by the foul deeds done upon them. It grows so even now."

She had marked the tense and waiting air in the forest of late. It felt as though a storm was slowly brewing unseen, a wrath abuilding that would be unleashed in its own time. Of Oldbark's beliefs, Helluin could only accept them as lore. They spoke of Ages so far in the past that they had been history long before any Elf had lived; ancient times only sketched in the myths of Aman. Yet for a moment she had to wonder, could the life of the trees really be so very ancient a thing…well 'nigh 29,500 years or more? If so, then along with Manwe's Eagles, they would be amongst the eldest living beings upon Arda.

"How soon?" She asked, pulling her thoughts back to the problem at hand.

"Oh, very soon," Oldbark said, "in no more than a century, I should think."

_A century_, she thought, _no need to be hasty_. A sigh of relief escaped her. To the Onodrim a century truly was "very soon". But to the kelvar, even those of immortal race, a century was time enough for much to be done. In that century there was a lot she could accomplish.

"Then in the meantime, while we wait," Helluin told him, "I think I shalt go north and consult again with the Wood Elves. We may be able to slow things down a bit, upset the plans of the Yrch so that naught by your kind needs to be done in haste."

Oldbark gave her a thankful look. The Glam seemed to be few and perhaps the Elves could handle them alone. It would be just as well. Recently large numbers of trees had become ever more wakeful and they were beginning to agitate. Getting them to move when they were enraged was much less difficult than herding them all back to where they'd come from after the battle was done. The Huorns tended to doze off once the threat abated and stay wherever they ended up. There was much about the distribution of resources that came with responsible management of a forest. Greenwood was not the least bit random so far as Oldbark was concerned. It simply wouldn't do to have his trees spreading willy-nilly across strange terrain.

"I would greatly appreciate your efforts, Helluin," he said, adding a qualifying, "if they succeed. Come back in a decade or two and let me know."

Helluin nodded and set out.

Several weeks later she was in northern Greenwood, walking silently down a path a league north of the Forest River. The trip had been less pleasant than in the past. Near the dark, fir covered Tundor Móreo she had slain a nest of spiders for the first time. They'd thought themselves safe in their numbers and had actually attacked her. She had cut them to ribbons and then drowned their egg sacks, weighing them down under stones in a streambed. Now, having crossed the river by going branch to branch high amidst the overhanging boughs, she was searching for the people of _King Telpeapáro_**¹**. They were of the Avari, though in later times any remnants of their realm came to be absorbed by the Nandor, and the Sindarin tongue was spoken among them. Helluin thought back to her initial meeting with them, about fifty years after coming to Greenwood.

**¹**(**King Telpeapáro,** **_King Silvery Bark, t_****_elpe_ **(silver) + _**-**(e)**a **_(-y, silvery) **_+ páro_** (tree bark). Quenya)

She had been following the main tributary¹ of the Forest River, which flowed northward from the Tundor Móreo, and for the last dozen miles she'd noticed a drop off in the spider population. Whereas before there had been a predictable concentration of the creatures for every square mile throughout Greenwood, here the creatures were almost completely absent. The change had occurred as she'd come nigh the Forest River, and after crossing it that first time she'd noticed a wholesomeness pervading the woods. It wasn't anything she could point to, simply a feeling.

**¹**(This tributary of the Forest River is the same that was much later called the Enchanted River. See numerous references in The Hobbit)

Helluin was walking north beyond the river and evening was falling, but for one born in the time of the stars, this was no reason to stop, merely a change in the conditions. She had always liked walking in the forest at night and so she continued on another couple of leagues. Soon the light had faded completely. The forest was peaceful, silent, and for a short time Helluin wandered in her memories of the forests of over 4,000 years before, happy at that moment to have returned to Middle Earth. Even deep in her reveries, she was aware of a fire coming to life a couple miles away as it was kindled. It was a clear sign of habitation and something that needed to be investigated.

Soon the fire was a furlong away, but Helluin had marked many figures moving in its flickering light when she'd gotten within a mile. Few in the Hither Lands but the Eagles could claim sight sharper than that of the Calaquendi. She'd moved forward in silence and at a half-mile had taken to the trees. By approaching from above, Helluin was able to espy those guarding the gathering long ere they marked her, for though they checked the trees for spiders, their watch was on the ground. She passed above them unseen and made her way closer. At a hundred yards, Helluin was certain that they were Elves, but of such a rustic kindred that at first almost she mistook them for a gathering of Men.

In a cleared grove they had set a table and benches beside a bonfire in a circle of rocks. Silver lanterns hung from the branches of the surrounding trees. Many sat there supping and drinking, while to one side a harp was softly played, though as yet none sang. A tapped keg rested at the grove's edge and a spitted boar turned over the flames. Helluin found the scent was mouthwatering.

In the place of honor at the table's head sat a figure wearing a crown of green leaves and tulip tree flowers, for it was high summer. At such times, and in fine weather, the King of the Wood Elves and his folk were wont to come and dine outdoors under the stars. Of all the Elves in Middle Earth, no others had such a strong affinity for the night sky and the hours of darkness. Their joy at feasting outside their halls was a form of thanksgiving and a tradition of their cultural. Helluin had stumbled upon them during the fortnight of festivities they celebrated for the Valar's generosity at the Solstice of Anar.

Looking down and listening from her perch in a tall oak, Helluin was struck by the simplicity and sincerity of their celebration. She could feel their sentiments thick in the air, rising to the heavens as a sweet fragrance of joy, the honest emanation of heartfelt thanks for the gifts of the Valar with which they were blessed; a world in which to live and in which they had a place. They belonged to Middle Earth in a way she didn't, for having seen Aman and returned to the Mortal Lands, Helluin had always felt more like a visitor. She realized that she had always felt that her abiding in any one place was a temporary state. Sooner or later she would be gone to the next land beyond her sight. Not so these of the Umanyar, for having never seen the Light of Aman, they thirsted not for that which they had never seen. They were content. She was homeless.

They had never discovered her that night, nor on either the next night or the one after that. Helluin took to watching the Wood Elves' celebrations from the trees, looking down as if she were some sort of "Peeking Tom", peeping through a window from the darkness at a warm room and the family within. During that time she came to understand from whence came Oldbark's Elven dialect. She absorbed their language. By the fourth night she could stand it no longer. She made herself known.

Wrapped in her cloak she lowered herself from the branches outside the firelight and edged closer until she stood just outside the grove. As the harp player strummed the notes of a song she'd heard each night, Helluin added her voice, soft at first, singing the words she'd composed to accompany the Wood Elves' melody.

_**Gently from the clouds in spring,**_

_The warm rains come to find me._

_Bringing life for which I sing._

_To flower, root, and tall tree._

_I see, I see all things that grow,_

_And keep watch yet for more_

_**Softly 'neath the summer moon,**_

_The night breeze serenades me._

_Bringing songs of thrush and loon,_

_Their notes upon the wind free._

_I hear, I hear, all that is sung,_

_And listen yet for more._

_**Welcome ripens autumn fruit,**_

_Its bounty there to feed me._

_Seed and nut grown from the root, _

_Blessings all 'round do I see._

_I taste, I taste all offered here,_

_And thank thee yet for more._

_**Deeply sinks the winter's chill,**_

_Frost's fingers seek to find me._

_With plant and beast I'll rest until,_

_Yavanna's breath awakes thee. _

_I wait, I wait the greening time,_

_And look ahead to more._

_**The wheel it turns year after year,** _

_In Arda time is passing. _

_And I keep watch to see it clear, _

_The cycle of rebirthing._

_I sing, I sing in praise each day,_

_And wonder all the more._

By the end of the second verse the fire had gone out, the feast had disappeared, and the Wood Elves had fled. Helluin finished her song. There was naught to be seen in the grove save that which had grown there over many years, and yet she knew she was not alone. From a sack she withdrew a flute and played the song in the instrument's haunting breathy voice, as if the wind itself sang with her. The notes of the melody rose and fell, whispering on the night air as they made their way among the trees. When she was done she put the flute away and lay down in the dark. Conveniently the grove was open to the sky and Helluin could see a patch of stars overhead and she took inspiration from them.

In the stillness she raised her voice again, but this time she sang in the Quenya of Aman, a song of Valinor about the stars of Varda. In her song the same stars seen from Middle Earth are also seen in Aman, for they were created by the same hands that bless both the Undying Lands and the Mortal Realm. With her words Helluin wove a vision of Valmar, the city of the Valar, and Taniquetil, the mountain throne of Manwe. The song grew to encompass the ancient days, when the Two Trees, Telperion and Laurelin, grew upon hallowed Corollaire, and the mound of Ezellohar was awash in their Blessed Light. She sang of the Hill of Tuna and the Eldarin city of Tirion the White, and of Mindon Eldalieva, the tall, fair Tower of Ingwe. And last, she sang of the Light of the Trees at the hour of their mingling, blending gold and silver as in a lantern beam shining through the Calacirya, illuminating a glittering path across the Bay of Eldamar, above which Varda's stars yet shone in the deep vault of the sky. Her own heart's awe lived in every word she sang.

Long ere she finished, the dark grove was filled with the company of the Wood Elves, hanging entranced, in silent anticipation of every word she sang. They had never before encountered a song of power and couldn't resist the calling spell Helluin had woven into it. Indeed, it was the most compelling and wondrous music any of them had ever heard. When she finished they stood silent and stunned, as if they still lived in the vision she'd conjured of that far away place and time. Helluin roused herself from her memories and looked about her. A smile curled her lips. They couldn't have understood half the words she'd sung.

The Wood Elves would have stayed just as they were for a very long time had she not gotten up and commanded their attention. Even among mortals ages hence, the power of music remains a potent force that can alter the behavior of whole civilizations and affect the minds of the masses. This is but a much-diminished hint at the effects of Elven music, and the music of the Calaquendi most of all.

In the Elder Days, a song of power was a thing of surpassing potency. Finrod Felagund had almost laid low Sauron himself in the First Age, and much evil would have been averted had he triumphed, but on that day the corrupted Maia had the mastery and Finrod, King of Nargothrond was worsted. Yet Sauron himself fell before the power of Luthien, and so too his master, for Morgoth was laid to sleep by her singing and a Silmaril recovered from his grasp. Ere the form of Ea was made, it had been with music that the Ainur had dreamt the world through the themes of Iluvatar. Now when Helluin sang to the Avari, they were powerless to resist the spell that she wove.

Helluin first kindled a fire, and in its light she'd appeared before them as a mirage materializing. Still they didn't move. She spoke to them in Silvan, weaving a sense of reassurance and presenting herself as a long sundered sister who desired their friendship and company. Slowly she roused them with her words, shifting the spell so that they came to their senses without any thoughts of suspicion or reprisal. Yes, she had tricked them, but she'd held no dark intentions towards them. She desired neither their treasures nor their servitude, and no bonds of any sort did she desire to lay upon them. It was just simpler and faster for her to gain their acquaintance and trust in this way, and few of them ever understood just what she had done. In the end they accepted her among them as the wandering explorer she claimed to be and they traded tidings and histories and learned much from each other. As it turned out, they'd had only the rarest of dealings with the Nandor since coming west, and of the Sindar and the Noldor, they'd heard not even rumors.

To them, Helluin was little less than a goddess. Her knowledge gained in the Undying Lands astonished them. Her weapons and armor they deemed enchanted. Her travel experiences were a constant source of amazement. She was taller and more beautiful and more fell than any of them, and the light in her face seemed like that of a Valier. Indeed some among them wanted to accept her as a queen of their realm. Their king had drooled at the prospect of having her to wife. Helluin had rolled her eyes and apologetically refused the "honor" on the grounds that she was dedicated to traveling and couldn't stay. In the end they settled for her friendship. In only one thing did they find real common ground; they had all suffered from and despised the Yrch.

In the years since then, Helluin had at times come among them and they had continued to welcome her. They valued her counsel and she saw them improve their lot with her advice. Yet she was wise enough not to try to change their hearts. Though they struck her as naïve, (though not truly innocent), their very ignorance engendered a connection to Middle Earth that she and the Calaquendi had lost long ago. The Avari were solidly bound to the forest and by extension, bound to the Hither Lands as well. She had found a part of herself longing for their sense of belonging to their land, for Helluin had no place to call home. This realization weighed on her more and more heavily the longer she remained in their company and eventually she always found herself needing to leave.

So now, Helluin had followed the tributary to the Forest River and crossing over, made her way to the Wood Elves' realm. As always, the land seemed deserted, but she knew better from experience. Like any Elves whether Calaquendi or Moriquendi, the Wood Elves could remain undetected by most at will, and the Avari were close to the Laiquendi in this, though their woodscraft was natural more than studied. Once she came to the spot where she usually met them, she simply put her fingertips between her lips and produced a piercing whistle.

It was several moments before her summons was answered and when it was, instead of drawing the attention of a cadre of sentries, this time but a single hunter materialized from the trees. He was a young ellon dressed in the multi-hued mélange of fabric, bark cloth, and skins that provided the almost perfect camouflage of the Wood Elves. She actually saw him only when he moved. He approached her slowly while at the same time continuing to scan their surroundings as if expecting an attack at any moment. Though the Wood Elves had always seemed touched by paranoia to Helluin, his behavior told her that not only were the times less certain than in the past, but he was almost certainly alone at his post. She looked about to make sure no others of his people were at hand.

"What is thy name and whyfore art thou alone upon thy guard?" She asked. The young Avari regarded her with more curiosity than suspicion. They had never met.

"First I must ask thee thy name, m'Lady," he stated, respectful if a bit overly formal.

"I am Helluin of the Noldor," Helluin replied indulgently. The question was a typical opening query, but she'd hoped to meet with a company already known to her.

"Then I hath marked thee aright," he said, visibly relaxing, "for thou appears't much as tales describe." He continued with a statement he'd obviously committed to memory. "I honor thee and proffer welcome from my lord, to Helluin, renowned and esteemed explorer of the Noldor. May'st I not convey thee hence unto the halls of King Telpeapáro? The days darken and many would welcome thy counsel."

He turned and made a modest bow accompanied by a sweeping arm gesture directing her east. Helluin nodded but continued to stand still and appraise him. He fidgeted.

"I pray thee forgive my trespass, m'Lady," the young hunter finally said as if recalling his manners and answering her earlier question. "I am called _Halatir_**¹**. Empty now lie'th this precinct, for 'tis deemed in jeopardy. None come'th hither save for to keep watch."

**¹**(**Halatir, _Kingfisher_**, Quenya)

That the area was also deemed lost or not worthy of serious defense she could infer by the fact that only a single young hunter had been assigned this post. Helluin nodded and moved to follow Halatir. He led them from the spot at a good pace, heading east towards King Telpeapáro's halls. They traveled quickly the rest of the afternoon, trading conversation in soft careful voices. What Helluin had suspected was excessive formality on Halatir's part she soon recognized as the nervousness of a developing crush. Many times during their walk she caught him glancing sidelong at her and quickly turning away with a blush when noticed. His discomfort was mirrored by her mirth and both did their best to conceal their reactions to each other. As evening fell they finally reached the gates of King Telpeapáro's halls, deep 'neath the forest in a great natural cave through which the Forest River ran underground for a mile.

Helluin had been to these caverns several times before, and though they were a far cry from Nargothrond or Khazad-dum, they were far more wholesome than any Yrch lair. The air within was clean and fresh. The chambers had been widened into comfortable halls, while the passages had been evened out and all had been made smooth of wall and floor. Many hearths there were for heat and for the cooking of food, and many lanterns hung throughout to give light. The halls were a formal setting, a treasury and a fortress, and the king had there his throne, yet all of the Wood Elves including the king spent more time outside amidst the forest than within, save in the depths of winter's chill. That the king and his advisors sought to meet with Helluin deep in his halls told her that the Wood Elves were not at peace. It was yet another bad sign.

It was not a celebration or a feast to which Helluin came that day. The king and his advisors were grim. Around a large table they sat, and they welcomed Helluin gravely and offered her a seat. She noted that several maps were strewn about and that upon them many black Xs had been drawn. The king spoke to inform Helluin of their status.

"Dark hath become the days, Helluin, for since thou was't last among us the Glam hath grown numerous and spread destruction. Wherefore the north wood yon the Forest River now host'th many foul dens and wickedness doth spread apace. Hither realm doth stand embattled as hast not been since the Evil Years of the Great Enemy in the west of which thou hast spoken aforetime. Many counsel thence to fight, yet many woulds't flee."

"Lord, thou doth stand upon the brink ere the storm," Helluin said gravely, "and Yrch threaten many beyond thy realm. War ye shalt have, declared or not, for if yonder evil stand'th not defeated, to flee thou shalt be forced. Mark me, O King of the Wood, for the Onodrim shalt marshal and the very trees shalt march to war. Any that doth stand in their way shalt be swept aside as but so many fallen leaves. No kingdom do they honor, nor kith or kin save those of the olvar. Woulds't the kelvar solve the problem of the kelvar, then only shalt the Onodrim stand down to peace."

At these tidings many around the table stood and began voicing their shock, outrage, and astonishment. Helluin's news spoke of consequences win or lose, and little choice to be made. The Onodrim would call the very forest to war, and the trees would treat all those upon two legs as their enemy, and grind all into the dirt, good and bad alike. After several minutes of pandemonium the king called his counselors to order.

"Wherefore come thee upon such dire tidings, Helluin?" He asked.

"I come'th to thee from Oldbark of the Onodrim, Lord of Calenglad i'dhaer. He is wroth. Of the Yrch he know'th, and he doth speak of the forest arising in its wrath against them. Not the Onodrim alone would march to war, but _Huorns_ too, fell treespirits, limb-lithe and consumed with hatred, would soldier forth to consume all save their own." Helluin paused, assessing the horrified attention her words commanded. She leaned forward over the table and continued in a softer voice. "So died the evil shadows two Ages ago, of which I recall great fear, amongst the Quendi under the stars. Now such wrath pends release again. I fear thy kingdom shan't stand."

King Telpeapáro gulped and regarded Helluin as she straightened. He saw that her countenance was set, for she at least believed all that she'd said. His people had at whiles witnessed tall creatures, like in form unto trees, moving through the forest, but the Wood Elves had always fled and hid from them. Now he found that his people owed these Onodrim a debt, if only indirectly. It had only been with the disappearance of the evil shadowy ones that his people had ventured west from their far-off land. Against such a power as had disposed of such fell enemies, his kingdom would never stand.

"Think'th thou that I should order our flight?" He asked Helluin seriously.

"Nay, O King," Helluin told him. She could feel the lust for battle rising in her blood in anticipation of warring against the Yrch. "Rather to war I would urge thee, for if thou doth prevail o'er thy enemies, then no need shalt the Onodrim have to rouse the forest."

At these words some looked to the king with hope, and others with horror.

"No middle ground doth there now be," Helluin continued, "for Yrch unopposed breed evil without respite. Proceed thou to flight, then doubtless the war of the Onodrim shalt come. Only if thou destroy'th the evil shalt the forest know peace and thy realm be spared."

"Yet why hence to battle," another asked, "when to flight for a time woulds't bring forth the Onodrim and visit doom upon the Glam? In some year to come, back to Greenwood we could return in peace."

"Indeed," Helluin agreed, "yet to what doom? Changed would thy land be and others may abide in thy halls. Woulds't thou then fight to reclaim them? Then too, the Onodrim may be less disposed to treat thee with sympathy, if no aid hath thou given the forest in its time of need. For do ye know that Greenwood is the realm of the Onodrim, and that their governance come'th down from Yavanna herself, their Creator? Thy realm stands naught but at their indulgence."

The councilors and the king together sat in thought. The forest they'd thought open for the occupying was in fact a sovereign realm long established by divine right. They were but tenants, living as squatters in another's halls. And no liege lord they'd ever heard of would reward cowards with fiefs following a battle from which they'd fled. They could stand and fight or flee without defending their own. On the one hand they might win the continuity of their lifestyle and realm against the Glam. On the other, they would be swept away by the Onodrim. They could either gain powerful allies or dishonor themselves, becoming craven refugees. Regardless of whether they had a stomach for war or not, the Wood Elves had come to love their homeland in Greenwood and they valued their honor.

Finally the king looked at Helluin and said, "This is our home. We shalt fight."

Helluin nodded in approval. "And I shalt fight beside thee," she promised. "Let us take counsel then, for there is time yet to prepare." She'd never told the Avari that they'd had a century to act.

The Avari, Helluin had long before discovered, were armed only with bows and spears. Their weapons were more suited to hunting than battle, for they had never before fought more than isolated skirmishes against enemies few in number. Mostly these had been against disorganized bands of Glam during the dark years of the 1st Age; their enemies little more than the deserters of Morgoth's forces that were concentrated far to the west in Beleriand. It took Helluin seven years ere she deemed the Wood Elves capable of acting like a coherent force. A chain of command had to be forged. The king and his advisors had to be taught to think like military strategists. What little iron the Avari possessed had to be forged into weapons, spearheads and arrow points mostly, and the bowyers and fletchers had to be taught the craft of making tools of war. Helluin instructed and drilled and taught. She was busy from sun up until deep into the night and during those years she'd had little energy for anything else.

One area in which she found the Wood Elves well supplied was in scouts and sentries. The Avari were naturally inclined to be silent and to remain unseen. They were hunters by nature. In the woods they could go undetected even when at close range, and so watchers were kept all about the dens of the Glam. They counted their numbers, noted the kind of their arms, and identified their leaders. Helluin spent hours a day sifting through intelligence reports from the scouts and sentries. Soon she came to understand the Glam's movements and their routines and could even predict somewhat of their intentions. They were building their strength and consolidating their foothold in the Greenwood, but more ominously, they waiting for something. In response, she ordered the Avari to make a coarse net wide enough to span the river, and to collect at a certain spot beside the river, every fallen limb, trunk, branch, or clump of brush, damaged by the Glam or dead of natural causes. Rather than wood fires, they burned the compressed black plant matter**¹** excavated from an area in the Long Marshes where the Forest River emptied into the Long Lake. They thought her insane. It went on thus for five years, until S.A. 422.

**¹**(peat or maybe even a low grade coal such as lignite).

In the spring Helluin deemed the Wood Elves' forces ready and she counted their numbers three and a half thousands ready to do battle. The reports that had come to her placed the count of the Glamhoth at no less and perhaps slightly more, but they were spread over the entire northern precincts of the forest in lairs holding no more than several hundreds apiece. Helluin thought victory very likely. They had a plan.

On the first new moon of spring when Tilion tarried 'neath Arda and came not bearing Isil into the heavens, the Wood Elves came in force to the Forest River. There they strung their net from bank to bank and then moved into the rushing waters all those logs and stumps and branches they had long collected and those also that the Glam had cut nearby. In so doing, they dammed the river just downstream from its tributary. Swiftly the flow backed up, overtopping the banks in minutes, for the river was heavy with the runoff of spring rains from the Ered Mithrin. Long ere dawn broke, the leagues 'nigh the river lay under a shallow, spreading lake, and those of the Glamhoth dens nearest were flooded deep. The Wood Elves had little to do but shoot those who made their way to the surface. In few places did the Glam actually meet the Avari in battle and there Helluin's training paid off. Being greater in numbers at each engagement and better armed for such encounters, the Wood Elves slaughtered them all. For three days and nights there was battle as the flood spread, and fully half the area north of the Forest River was cleared of the enemy. By then the area underwater had grown so large that the new lake advanced too slowly to trap any more Glam, and the survivors of the more distant dens came together to fight the Elves.

The great battle took place in the northwest of Greenwood where the Forest River took a slight jog to the south from its southeasterly course. Here there were some low hills and the wood about them grew thinner. The Glam made their stand upon one of those hills, a good position, but their numbers by then were reduced to less than a thousand. The Wood Elves had lost but few of their host and outnumbered their enemies by over three to one. Helluin and the Elves anticipated victory, while upon the hill the Glamhoth quailed in fear.

"Steady," Helluin ordered, rallying her troops, "for the end comes 'nigh. A few hours of bloodshed and all shalt pass. Thou shalt have wiped this evil from the forest and thy homes shalt again know peace. Show no mercy, for from yonder Glam, none shalt thou receive. By dawn we shalt be restoring the river and ere tomorrow eve, feasting in celebration."

The Elves gave a great cheer, for they too could taste the victory, their first in a real battle. It seemed that Helluin would bring victory to the Avari, but she had also brought to them the waging of war. That fact she marked, and it saddened her to have cost them another shade of their innocence and taken them a step further from their nature. She had changed them surely, yet it had seemed the best way to preserve them and their way of life. So far casualties had been very light and it was easy to be hopeful about the cost being worth the sacrifice. Later she would wonder if she had been right after all.

The battle was joined at nightfall and though the Wood Elves had the victory it came not as they had hoped. The Glam were armed mostly with pikes and swords as well as a few axes. The Avari, as has been told, were armed mainly with bows and spears. At first the Elves had the mastery, shooting their foes with great volleys of arrows and dropping them by the scores. But desperation lent the Glam a fey courage, and they charged when their numbers had been diminished by but a quarter. The remainder came forward at a dead run, pikes at the fore, swords behind. They crashed the Elves' lines so quickly that the archers could get off only two shots ere they clashed. The spears held the pikes at bay but a short while, and then the terrified fury of the Glam gave them strength enough to break the Elven lines. Thereafter it was close-quarters battle, a fight for which the Avari were poorly armed. In the press it was swords against spears and many of the Wood Elves died. Their spears proved too unwieldy against enemies so close at hand and the Elves had almost no swords among them. Indeed their only close-quarters weapons were the few axes they'd used to chop wood for the dam. She couldn't have prepared her forces for this kind of combat, for they'd had too little iron to forge enough swords. Helluin saw her troops falling to the Glamog blades and knew that a slaughter was to come. It was the one situation she'd desperately hoped to avoid. Yet it was a kind of battle she herself was all too familiar with. Helluin ceased being a general and reverted to being a warrior.

In that hour Helluin's rage exploded into bloodlust and she bathed the ground in the blood of the Glam. In her hand Anguirel drank thirstily and yet ever thirsted for more. Helluin fought as she had upon the field of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, falling into a murderous rampage that could not be assuaged by any number of deaths. Glamog and Elf alike fled from her in horror as her blue eyes blazed in the darkness under the trees. Pike and sword alike failed to bite upon her armor and she laughed cruelly as she slew foe after foe, tirelessly seeking for the next. Akin were Helluin and Anguirel, each feeding on the other's dark spirit and both were fell beyond the pale of Mortal Lands. No count of those who died at her hand could be made, yet the black blood of the Glam smoked and blistered upon Anguirel as the steel heated. And as always when she became crazed by her battle mania, Helluin screamed, "Beltho Huiniath!" at the top of her lungs.

Unlike the Naugrim, the Wood Elves didn't echo her war cry. Indeed, most fled the field in terror of her, not even tarrying to collect their own dead. More died there than the bodies of their friends and enemies. War tainted the fëa with bloodshed in an irreparable loss of innocence…blood innocence. This was nothing like a hunt. The Avari had come face to face with the horror of war at last, and yet they knew in their hearts that what they'd seen was naught but a shred of the horror that had walked in the western lands an age before. And most terrifying of all, it was obvious that Helluin was reveling in it, more alive during her acts of slaughter than they had ever imagined her. She was well nigh hysterical, insane, possessed, and the Elves feared her mania might take them too. What the Avari saw of victory was more akin to defeat then not, for both victor and vanquished wallowed in blood. Both sides did violence previously unimaginable. And they wanted nothing more to do with it. They had seen enough.

When the field lay silent save for her battle cry, Helluin finally came to a heaving stillness as her lungs fought for breath. Being of the Eldar of Aman, she could have continued fighting thus for a day, but at last there was naught left to fight. All about her lay the dead, Glamog and Avari alike. The sun stood upon the eastern horizon…mourning. Her eyes swept the field as their blazing blue light faded, and as they swept they counted. 934 Glam and 762 Elves lay slain there, never to rise again. Not a single Glamog had survived and not a single Elf had remained…all the living had fled the horror of war…of bloodshed…of her. Helluin found cloth and wiped clean her sword.

"Hail to thee, Helluin," the blade's cold voice said, "for great is thy prowess and fell is thy hand, yet more deadly is thy spirit. In pride shalt I serve thee for our hearts are as one."

"Hail to thee, O Anguirel, deadly Iron from the Star," Helluin answered, "fell is thy edge and peerless thy balance. In pride shalt I wield thee, most steadfast of allies."

At her words the sword chuckled as if reveling in a secret kept and said, "Maeglin's hand was inherently unacceptable." At that time Helluin thought no more of it.

It took her until well 'nigh sunset, but she gathered the bodies of the fallen Wood Elves, all the dead who had followed her faithfully into battle. In rows she laid them on a nearby and untrammeled hillside, well separated from their place of dying. It was a site where they would have a final view of their beloved stars, blooming in the night sky o'er Middle Earth, as they lay 'neath the few trees that grew there, and she marked their names in her memory. The Glam she dragged away and heaped on the far side of the battle hill, out of sight of those who might come later to honor the dead Avari. As the night came down she waited with the fallen. Then under rising Isil's slender, waxing crescent she raised her voice in a dirge, fare-welling the spirits of the dead with praise for their valor, and wishing them safe passage to the Halls of Mandos.

"Thou too shalt see Aman, whether in life or in death," she whispered sadly at the end.

Then turning away, Helluin began her trek southwards. She had no intention of returning to King Telpeapáro's halls for she had wrought damage enough upon his people. Instead she struck for Laiquadol, seeking to bring her tidings to Oldbark and the Onodrim. On she walked through the night, grim of mood and silent as a shadow. She felt as though she had lost a war to win a battle.

To Be Continued

18


	10. IN An Age BEofre Chapter 10

**In An Age Before - Part 10 **

_Cailen, you asked for more so here's another chapter! In the original MSWord document this covers pages 87 to 102. There are 294 pages written so far so there's plenty left, LOL. Thanks for letting me know someone's reading. -Phantom Bard_

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**Chapter Eight**

_**Rhovanion - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Time had passed and though Helluin was not happy with the way things had turned out, Oldbark had assured her that worse could easily have happened. In fact, he'd expected worse. It was shallow comfort. One time only had she returned north to the realm of the Wood Elves. By then over a hundred years had passed. Her reception had been cold. Indeed she had not been received at all, for the cave upon the Forest River stood empty and not a single one of the Avari was to be seen anywhere in that land. In fact the only consolation had been the absence of any sign of Yrch.

Upon her return with that news, Oldbark and Leaflock had given her the equivalent of shrugs. They'd seemed not at all concerned and indeed they weren't in the least. Elves were simply not their responsibility.

_Wasn't it just like those with legs to wander off_, Leaflock had asked rhetorically in Entish over the course of an afternoon? Oldbark had spent the evening replying that,_ at least they hadn't left a mess. _He'd then turned to Helluin and added "hastily" in Elvish that he'd noticed the Wood Elves leaving a half-century before. But since she hadn't asked, he hadn't told, and when she'd mentioned going off to their realm recently, he'd thought she intended to head east, out of the forest and off to whatever lands they'd disappeared into. What else would he have thought? Helluin had shaken her head in exasperation. She'd just endured a roundtrip of over 140 leagues because she hadn't asked the Onodrim precisely enough concerning the current whereabouts of the Avari.

The Onodrim went on to comment between themselves that darker times were coming to Greenwood. They could taste it in the water and feel it in the air. Something was stirring; some evil shadow that grew apace, and it bode ill for them all. Things would be changing in the forest, they just knew it, and the old days were gone for good. (But weren't they always?) They were still talking, rehashing variations of those sentiments in myriad ways and redefining the same points ad nauseum. Helluin had heard it often enough. They would go on like that until morning; she just knew it. Sometime during the last two and a half centuries, listening to them had grown tiresome.

When Helluin wandered off neither Ent had said goodbye. Indeed they'd long since ceased paying any attention to her at all. _Elves aren't their concern_, she thought spitefully as she walked away, _but Greenwood is their problem_. _Whatever evil they sense might not come for another century or two…maybe a millennium._ She wasn't going to ask. She'd been there and done that, and it had left her feeling depressed. Yes, the forest was their problem…and they were welcome to it. She'd always wanted to see the mountains that stood at the edge of her sight, the ones she'd first spied from a treetop in the mellyrn wood that day she'd met Berlun. The thought lifted her heart. Without a backward glance Helluin headed south. It was late summer, S.A. 523.

When Helluin reached the southern boundary of Greenwood two days later she didn't look back. Before her, wide new lands lay ready to be explored. Anduin, the great river of Rhovanion, ran to the west on her right, tracing its course southeast, dwindling from a broad and undulating ribbon into a glimmering thread in the hazy distance where ranges of mountains marched on the verges of her sight. To the west rose the heights of the Hithaeglir, and before its feet just across Anduin lay yet another forest…_no doubt with its own Ents_, Helluin suspected, _and they no more "hasty" of speech than Oldbark and Leaflock. _She looked over its deep green canopy for a moment and then dismissed it just as quickly. No gold-leafed mellyrn grew there.

Sweeping her eyes to the left, Helluin saw flat and endless plains marching all the way to the eastern horizon, nearly featureless, their subdued colors quickly blending into an uneven dun color. They appeared inhospitable, for it seemed that little more than scrub grew there. Had Helluin stood at an elevation where she could view the hundred and seventy leagues stretching away in that direction, she would have discerned a run of low dun colored hills, and past them the dun colored waters of the Sea of Rhûn. Beyond the sea lay yet more dun colored lands. The expanse of South Rhûn, bordering the River Carnen that flowed down from the Emyn Engrin, was indistinguishable from the dun colored lands of Dorwinion and North Rhûn. It was the western margin of the great interior savanna, which extended with few breaks all the way across the northern continent to the far and unknown shores of the Encircling Sea.

Two ages before, Helluin had been born somewhere in those lands to the east that now appeared so uninviting. Through what was now North Rhûn, the Eldar had followed Orome west through Middle Earth to Aman. Under Varda's stars those lands had slept and many things had awaited their awakening under the greater lights to come. But those same lights could also parch and blast. The great primeval forest that had once stretched across the northern continent had succumbed to its daily exposure 'neath Anar's fire, leaving a land of savanna, prairie, and to the north, tundra. The dreary Sea of Rhûn, and the melancholic Sea of Nurnen in Mordor, were all that remained of the great inland Sea of Helcar, upon whose eastern shore once lay Cuivienen, first memory and awakening place of the Quendi. What little remained of their natal forest still huddled at the feet of the Orocarni, the eastern mountains. But now, rather than overlooking the quiet mere, the trees bordered an endless draught land plain. The effects of heating and drying in Arda would continue another millennium ere the climate came again into balance under sun and moon, and yet more changes in the physical world lay ahead. None of this could Helluin know as she gazed about herself that day, and indeed little attention would she have paid it, for her focus was fixed on the nearer distance, on the snow-capped Ered Nimrais and the course of Anduin stretching out before her to the south.

Closer to her spread a wide grassland interspersed with patches of open woods that thickened somewhat 'nigh the river's banks. High summer had passed and autumn lurked a moon ahead, but still the land before her retained the deep green of long grass. It wasn't yet the ideal horse country that it would later become, for vegetation still lay too thick upon the ground, but it was mostly flat and watered by many streams. It would be a pleasant land to travel in. At night there would be a great show of stars.

Helluin's other option was to take to the river. Anduin flowed downstream from near where she stood, and she suspected that it ran all the way to the sea, but it would run fast. She was in no hurry. In a small boat she could cross all the lands she saw in a moon or less…but to what point? Her aim was to explore the lands of Middle Earth. In that, haste and speed were her enemies. No, she would walk the lands, sharing trails with beasts and discovering the secrets of her surroundings. Anduin would be around a long time. She could always sail it later.

Helluin took her exploring time seriously and for months lost herself in the flatlands south of Greenwood that bordered Anduin's eastern shore. Fall came and winter followed. She noted the colors of autumn bursting bright upon the forests behind her, as well as the trees bordering the river and its tributary streams. Many times she saw herds of wild horses, fleet-footed and free, and from them she learned that the coming winter was not to be feared. They made no migration south, nor did the flocks of waterfowl that nested nigh the river's banks. The hares she saw hadn't even shifted to the white winter coats she recalled from the northern clime of Beleriand. This land was survivable in all seasons. It would certainly be nothing like the northern ice of the Helcaraxe, or even the lingering chill of Hithlim. In those days the climate of southern Rhovanion was moderated by the proximity of the Bay of Belfalas and the general warming trend under the sun. For a crafty Elf the land was bountiful. It was less so for unlearned mortals.

In those lands there were settlements and even villages of Men. These were not the Edain that Helluin had known long ago, but neither were they the scions of traitorous Uldor and Ulfang or their ilk. For the most part these were simple farmers, herders or shepherds, hunters, fisher folk, trappers and traders. They were people unpreoccupied by war or dreams of conquest. What chieftains they had were often little more than the best local archer, most experienced waterman, the owner of the largest herd, or the patriarch with the most sons. Their towns had no walls and no militias. None among them used letters or made pottery, and though they sang some songs, no instrument other than a few drums did they play. They created no realms, governed no kingdoms, and maintained no armies. Helluin saw a people who lived close to their land, valuing family, caring little for distant places, recording no history save in oral tales soon forgotten, creating little beyond necessities, and seeking no lasting glory. Their lives were short, hard, and filled with suffering, for they were ignorant and primitive. Some might have called them uninspired; Helluin found them unspoiled, and in their own way, much like the Avari.

Helluin visited those homesteads she came to and was always welcomed, for it was their custom to offer hospitality to travelers. Often she traded a seat by the fire for some fish or meat she had caught and her hosts gave her thanks. Though they looked askance at her armor and weapons, they never turned her away, nor did they seem to fear her. More likely were they to act sympathetic, pitying her in their hearts for she was alone and homeless in the wild. To them she was someone who had lost all, forsaken by kith and kin. To her they were rustic and simple, short-lived and quickly forgotten by the world. During the years she spent in that land they got along well.

In the spring and summer, Helluin was content to wander, fishing, hunting, and gathering to support herself while maintaining no permanent abode. In this she mirrored the wandering companies of Sindar and Laiquendi who roamed Eriador during the Second and Third Ages of the World. In that time she came to know the local creatures and plants, the weather and the water, the rocks and soil. And during that time she often gave the benefit of her acquired wisdom to the mortals among whom she lived. Simple to her seemed the things she taught, and yet her knowledge enriched the lives of those who listened.

_Grow in three fields out of four each year_, she said, _and in the fallow year, sow the resting soil with the scraps from the kitchens. Collect the dung of the herds from the pastures for the same purpose. _For the first time, farmers began to fertilize their land and found their yields increased so that they could barter the surplus and cache the excess for winter. _Hang the meat trapped in fall over smoking fires and preserve it dry for the cold months_, she told the hunters. _Keep the wine soured in the barrels, and in it preserve vegetables against the hunger of early spring ere new plants can sprout for gathering. That plant yonder with the blue flowers…of its fibers can be made the fabric called linen…you need not the wool of sheep only for clothing. The wasted fat of these slaughtered animals can be boiled and thereafter will not go rancid but can be stored in crocks, and if combined with ashes, this rendered tallow will make a cleanser for cloth and skin. It can also be burned in lamps with wicks of the same flax you wear. If you give these bees in your gardens a better home they will share their honey if you know how to sooth them with smoke to get it from their combs. Among the weeds and herbs I see surrounding your homes grow plants to ease pain, sooth coughs, mend bones, and calm cramps. Here are plant oils to repel insects and drive off vermin, to relieve skin irritations and cleanse parasites from man and beast_. With her advice and aid the men on the banks of Anduin came to a more comfortable and prosperous life, and though all of those she'd known when she first came among them grew aged and died ere all she had to teach had been absorbed, still their children and their children's children grew to respect and cherish the homeless Elf who had come among them.

To Helluin, earning their thanks and friendship was a kind of restitution for the heartache her teachings had brought to the Avari of Greenwood. On the day a farmer asked her to teach him how to make and play a simple flute such as the one she played, to amuse himself and his children, Helluin knew she had succeeded. Here was a Man who now had surplus of sustenance and could devote time to things beyond the requirements of survival. And so she began her instructions, first with the carving of the instrument, then with the technique of blowing notes and fingering the holes. Finally she taught him the ideas behind the notes and how to compose songs of his own. To her it was but a short time before he was improvising freely, standing or sitting with eyes closed and heart taking wing, sampling that aether of the soul that comes with freedom from self and the concerns of the world. The skill to enter a transcendental state at will through his absorption in music had taken him six years. For conferring that priceless gift of escape from the troubles of the world, he looked upon Helluin with pure love of the spirit in his eyes. As in many places in those times, it was another beginning of higher things for Men during the Dark Years in Middle Earth after the Edain left.

Evening was falling and the sky deepened from royal blue to cobalt and then to black. Overhead the stars kindled and flickered with their comforting and familiar twinkling fire. Helluin looked up and breathed deeply. Scents of cooking food she discerned, but more important, the absence of smoky torches choking huts with oily fumes and soot. In their place, oil lamps and candles illuminated homes wherein families told stories and played songs. Children laughed, no longer fearing the dark, their stomachs comforted by hot food, not crying with hunger, coughing, and scratching at the bites of fleas and lice. The aromatic scent of hickory from the smokehouse wafted past the market where the excess of one Man now filled the need of his neighbor. And all this in Nunui, the second month past Yule, when the stores had once been so low that many, with loosened teeth and gums bleeding from scurvy, had starved to death ere spring.

Seventy-four years Helluin had lived among these people and she was happy to have done so, for the time had been well spent. Indeed, she could not remember having brought so much good to so many without once laying a hand to her sword. Oh, she knew that in a generation or two her name would be forgotten, but that didn't trouble her, for the benefits of her knowledge would persist. Now that they had time to do more than struggle to live, these people would discover ways of their own to improve their lot. Yes, there was more she could teach, but the foundation had been laid; here in this corner of Middle Earth, mankind had been given a start on the road to civilization. At the same time, Helluin had found a place of sorts among them, but now it was time to go.

Helluin crossed Anduin the next day and started south. She had chosen to travel the western bank, for the eastern bank was bordered by the inhospitable folded lands of the Emyn Muil. She had surveyed that range of cliffs and ridges many times. It couldn't compete in her heart with the lands further south.

The Ered Nimrais and the Vale of Anduin drew her much more strongly, and 'neath those enticements lay the ever-present call of the sea. At times she had smelt it when the breeze came in from the south. The sea called to her; always had and always would, for such is the way of the heart among the Eldar who have seen Belegaer. Ever it sings with siren's voice, rousing a deep-set longing that threatens to overwhelm in the end all other desires. It lives in Calaquendi and Moriquendi alike, but to the Calaquendi it is the reinvigoration of a well-known craving, whereas to the Moriquendi, it is a compulsion lying dormant, awaiting some catalyst of sight or sound to bring it to life. Helluin thought that it wouldn't hurt her to see again the shores and hear the waves. Perhaps she was in denial, or perhaps she genuinely believed this, for it had been almost six centuries since she had tarried at Vinyamar and fought at Avernien. It was S.A. 597 and changes were coming.

By summer's end Helluin had stood at the foot of Mindolluin, the easternmost peak of the White Mountains, gazing up at the outreaching ship's prow spine that rose seven hundred feet above the floodplain of Anduin. About a curve in the river the vale opened into a sloping coastal land to the west, while to the east across the waters, the unbroken range of the forbidding Ephel Duath, the Mountains of Shadow, ran north to south. Though she knew it not, Helluin stood on a border between the lands of Rhovanion to the north and the prosperous realm of the Falas to the south and west.

Therein Helluin discovered a peaceful mingling of peoples. Some were Men like those she'd befriended to the northeast, while others were Elves, the Nandor of Lenwe. The Men were more prosperous than their northern kin, for they had profited by their long association with the Umanyar. The Nandor were much like their kin in the mellyrn forest 'nigh Celebrant, save that they sailed about the coast in ships and were more proficient on the water. Both kindreds eventually welcomed Helluin with food and questions. Of the two, the Nandor were the more surprised to see her.

During her first week in that land Helluin saw Elves whispering to each other while casting surreptitious glances at her every time she looked around. She noted that unlike the Nandor of Celebrant, these spoke Sindarin among themselves and the Common Tongue in their dealings with Men. As their looks wore on her she had to wonder if she really seemed so strange. Helluin had checked to make sure her privy parts were covered and that no gulls had streaked her cloak with their droppings. In checking about herself, she noticed that no others she'd seen openly bore arms or wore armor. _Well, someone must be keeping order around here, _she thought, _and I suppose sooner or later they'll come and ask me who, what, where, and why, instead of gossiping and whispering like fishmongers' wives._ The longer she wandered about the land north of the River Erui, the more of a celebrity she became, and the thinner her patience wore.

As usual Helluin had excited attention when she'd first entered the inn in a riverside town near what would become in later days the Harlond. This town contained quays and shipyards, and lay but a league southeast of Mindolluin, where the river went in a curve west around Emyn Arnen across the water in Ithilian. Heads had turned at her entry and eyes had followed her across the room. Being a traveler she was used to the scrutiny of strangers, but of late she'd found their attention annoying. She had ordered a meal and a mug of ale and occupied a table in the common room along the rear wall opposite the door. When the food arrived, Helluin began her noon repast with gusto. She happened to have eaten but little the night before and she was famished. As was her habit, she'd taken a seat with her back to the wall and an unobstructed view of all that came and went. Indeed several had left shortly after looking her over carefully and whispering amongst themselves. It had raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

Midway through her stew, cheese, and bread, a group of six Elves came in, searched the room until their eyes lit upon her, and immediately approached. Helluin set aside her mug and studied them closely. Each wore a cloak of sea green over deeper green trousers and belted tunics. The buckles on their belts and the brooches clasping their cloaks both depicted stylized cresting waves. All wore identical black boots. Their faces were set, their bearing soldierly, and they bore identical swords in scabbards on their belts. The six drew up in a semi-circle around her table. In response, Helluin shifted back her chair and unclasped her cloak. She let it fall to the floor behind her, revealing her battle dress and armor. She met their eyes as her own began to brighten as she prepared herself for their challenge. Her temper had always been quicker when she was hungry.

"Speak _Afor_!" She commanded as she rose to her feet, wanting to open the conversation on her own terms, "for if thou seeks to waylay me then declare whom it is I shall send before Namo this day." The blue fire in her eyes rose a pace as she spoke.

(**Afor**, Silvan Elf, -Sindarin)

"Declare thy name to me, _Golodh_," the closest said stiffly, "for this land is long under the protection of Lenwe, King of the Falas, and thou art summoned before him." He noted that she stood a hand's width taller than any of them.

(**Golodh, **ExiledElf, Noldo, Sindarin)

Helluin shrugged as if unimpressed. They were all at an impasse, none wishing to account themselves to the other on command.

"Of what Falas dost thou speak, Nando? The only Falas known to me was long ago the realm of Cirdan upon the shores of Beleriand, whose citadel was at Eglarest 'ere its fall," she said, knowing full well that _falas_ was simply Sindarin for _shore_. Even long ago she'd thought that calling any seaside realm _The Falas_ was sadly lacking in originality. "His realm last stood renewed at Mithlond upon the Gulf of Lune in Eriador. Say thou that thy lord, King Lenwe hast succeeded him?"

The six looked back and forth amongst themselves with some uncertainty. There was only one realm called _The Falas_ as far as they knew. They'd really never heard of any other _Falas_. What they did know was that this Noldo was called to the halls of their king. They had their orders.

"Thou art summoned to the king's halls at Edhellond and we art to guide thee thither," the same Nando who had first spoken said. He stood waiting as if she should immediately follow them and leave her food behind.

Helluin groaned. _Edhellond_ was Sindarin for _Elf Haven_. She would have wagered with complete certainty that it was a port city. The paucity of original names seemed consistent. She even wondered if Lenwe had made it up himself. Indeed, the Nandor of King Lenwe struck her as among the least lyric of Elves. She stared at them for several moments. Finally she sat back down, picked up her mug and took a drink.

"Innsman, a round for these soldiers of the king," Helluin called out to the barkeep. "I bid thee sit a moment," she told them, "and we shalt go hence after I finish supping. I hath not eaten yet this day."

The six soldiers looked uncertain for a moment and then joined Helluin at the table, dragging a couple more chairs over from an empty table beside them. The innkeeper brought a tray and set mugs of ale before each, eyeing the situation warily. After a few awkward moments, the soldiers raised their mugs and drank as Helluin ate.

After a second round they left the inn in much better moods, and though still far from jovial, at least the brittleness of their meeting had faded. Helluin asked many questions of the soldiers and they provided answers. In turn, they asked Helluin of the western lands and of the war. Engrossed in their conversation, the afternoon passed into evening while they walked.

The group stayed the night at an outpost of the king's army near the crossing of the river Erui. Their path had followed the track of the later South Road of Gondor, but on the far side of the Erui they would take a faster trail, running closer to the Ered Nimrais through Lebennin. It would be a long journey, no less than 100 leagues to Edhellond, and would take a fortnight.

Helluin's status during that time was uncertain. She was not a prisoner, but not quite a guest, for she though she had committed no crime, neither did she have leave of the king to wander his realm. Indeed she was something of a question to all. None doubted that she was an Elf, and more than that, an Elf of the Calaquendi. Most had never seen such, but all remembered their history and knew where went those who had continued to follow the Valar's summons two ages before. They were very curious and very wary, for they could sense the power Helluin had accumulated in Aman, as if it were an aura of light surrounding her. Like all the Amanyar, she had been enriched by her presence in the Undying Lands. She was stronger, fairer, more learned, and more subtle of hand and mind. She held great potential to either enrich or destroy their kingdom. They didn't pretend to understand her, but as the days passed, they continued to question her about her past. Much of what they heard astonished them. They were in awe of the Lords of the West, some shed tears at the downfall of the Light that had been, and all were in wonder at her descriptions of the lost realms of Beleriand, Khazad-dum, and the enemies, the fell monsters of Morgoth.

After half a moon's travel they came to the gates of the Edhellond. Sure enough it was a port city, standing on the shores of the Cobas Haven upon the Bay of Belfalas, at the mouth of the River Ringlo. The sturdy gates were wrought of solid wood reinforced with iron, hinged in a thick wall of well-fitted stone. Towers stood upon either side, while within lay a wide court for the mustering of defenders. Helluin thought it sufficient against pirates and raiders, but unimpressive compared to the Orflach Echor, the seven gates of Gondolin, or the great gate of Khazad-dum at Azanulbizar. She kept these thoughts to herself as they passed through the gates and into Lenwe's city.

Indeed, Helluin had no desire to come into conflict with Lenwe or his people. If anything, she regarded him with some reverence, for he was among those who had awakened in Cuivienen. They had never met before, for on the westward march their peoples had been many miles and years apart upon the road. Lenwe had been a lord of the Teleri, though not a kinsman, and had marched in the Host of Olwe. Though he was an Umanya and had never seen Beleriand or the Light of Aman, still he was and had been a lord of the Quendi ere their first sundering. In contrast, Helluin could claim no descent of lordship for her family wasn't of the noble houses of the Host of Finwe, and so despite all else, she was a commoner and he an aristocrat. It would be an interesting meeting.

Straightaway upon their arrival at the soldiers' barracks, an officer approached and took Helluin to the Hall of the King. On the way she noticed that the city was shared by a few Men, though the majority of the population were Nandor. The two kindreds went about their business in the same friendly fashion she had noted throughout the land.

The city's buildings were laid out on curving streets that ran parallel to the shore, while broader avenues radiated up from the banks of the river and the bay to the walls. All 'round rose buildings of pale limestone, unpretentious but well proportioned. Few rose more than five stories in height, perhaps to escape the sea winds that blew inland. These were noticeable, sweeping up the avenues, and Helluin imagined that during storms they would lash the city with salt spray. The singular structure of impressive height was the pale keep of the king's household, and rising above all was Lenwe's tower. From the topmost pinnacle a standard was enlivened by the sea breeze, ocean green and displaying a device of white waves capped with foam spray. For much of their walk, Helluin looked about herself, but after a while the officer spoke, capturing her attention.

"My Lord would greet thee, Golodh," the officer said as they walked through a market, "for none of the Host of Finwe hath our people seen in all the time our realm hast been. Yet to the King hath come some few mariners of Eriador, sailing out of Mithlond, Sindar naming Cirdan their lord, and somewhat of the Exiles' tale is known to us. Yet my lord wishes to hear directly, not of the wars of Beleriand so much, but of the Undying Realm that even the Sindar hath never seen."

"I would be honored to come before thy lord with tidings of Aman and the Powers that dwell there," Helluin told him, "for not in a thousand years hast my memory of the Blessed Light upon Ezellohar faded, though Yavanna's Trees art lost from the world."

"Unforgettable they would be to any living eyes," the officer agreed in a voice hushed with awe, "and the sight of them was told by Olwe to my lord, long, long ago. I believe the desire to see them never died from his heart, yet prudence for his people's safety ruled him once to reject the westward path."

"As did many before him and after," Helluin said, thinking of the Avari and the Sindar who had forsaken the journey at opposite ends of the Hither Lands. More softly she added, "And I last of all," for after the War of Wrath, she had not gone back.

They came at last to a gate of iron set in the wall encircling the keep. At the threshold they were met by eight sentries of the royal house whose officer bade Helluin good day. The sentries were dressed in long surcoats of sea green, and alone of all those she had seen, wore bright mail beneath matching green tunics. Upon their belts they bore long swords, and like the soldiers, their belt buckles and broaches were in the shape of cresting waves. The group parted four to a side and the foremost gestured Helluin ahead with a sweep of his arm. She marched between their rows, feeling that same undetermined status between guest and prisoner again.

The formation, with Helluin at their center, marched across a courtyard and through a door that opened directly into a great hall. On the threshold, a doorwarden courteously requested Helluin's arms. Indeed this was not unexpected. Few rulers held audiences with strangers armed for battle. It would be irregular enough that she would come before the lord girt in mail and plate, rather than dressed in robes of court. Helluin first gave over her bow and quiver, then as he set these beside the door she reluctantly untied the scabbard from her belt and handed sheathed Anguirel to the warden. He reached for the weapon, but ere his hand could clasp it, a dire warning came from the blade itself.

"Thou I shalt not serve save to drink thy blood," the blade declared coldly, "and accursed shalt be the hand that draws me against my will."

The sentries drew back in shock and the doorwarden shuddered then gingerly took Helluin's sword and travel pack, quickly setting them aside to be reclaimed following her audience with the king. After this, the sentries escorted Helluin into the hall itself.

Within, the ceiling floated easily ten fathoms above the floor, supported by rows of gracefully tapered columns, fluted to mimic the trunks of aged trees. Beneath their feet the floor was paved with limestone, dark, smooth, and bearing embeddments of pale fossil shells. Helluin felt as though she was walking upon some frozen night-darkened sea, stilled smooth as in a dream by some Vala's hand. Along the great hall's sides, tall windows in deep embrasures lit the interior from waist height to thrice the height of a body. These were glazed with opal glass and passed a pale silvery light similar to bright winter starlight upon snow covered fields, seen between tree trunks at a forest's edge. Far above her, the capitols of the columns and the pilasters reinforcing the walls between the windows all rose to form high pointed arches, creating a complex compound vaulting of ribs and panels that made up the ceiling. All the ascending ribs and arches graded from the color of pale natural stone to the blue-black of a dark night sky. The panels between the ribs had been colored dark to match, and were pierced in many places so that sunlight winked through from the sky outside. It didn't take Helluin long to realize that the winking lights had been cunningly set to replicate the positions of the stars, yet not as they looked in the night sky of S.A. 597, but rather as they had looked far to the east in the Age of the Trees. Taken all together, the hall recalled the time of the Quendi's awakening at Cuivienen…first starlight above the trees. Helluin was very impressed.

The group made their way the length of the hall and approached a dais at the far end. Upon the third tier stood a throne carved from the same dark fossiliferous limestone that paved the floor. Behind it was a curved alcove of light limestone whose walls were carved with ocean waves cresting outwards from either side to crash against the pillars framing the alcove. A canopy, also carved of limestone, was set above, also night-dark and filled with stars like the hall's ceiling. Around the base of the canopy was a curving bench for the king's counselors, and Helluin saw that it was fully occupied as she and the sentries made their way closer. They stopped a dozen paces before the throne, and Helluin followed the sentries' lead and bowed to the King of the Falas.

King Lenwe was a tall Nando, dark of hair, hale and hardy, whose ancient eyes shone bright with awareness and missed nothing before them. He immediately reminded Helluin of her friends amongst the Teleri of Alqualonde and she felt more comfortable in his presence. As was the custom he had stood as his subjects and their guest approached, and he acknowledged Helluin's bow with a nod of his head in greeting. He made a gesture to the attendants who stood beyond the dais and beckoned them forward with a chair. The sentries withdrew and stood to either side, several paces away from Helluin.

"Hail and well met, Helluin of the Host of Finwe," he said in a strong voice, deep and slightly rough, "welcome to Edhellond of Belfalas, Elfhaven upon the Westernmost Coast of Middle Earth."

So, thought Helluin, the realm wasn't named simply _The Falas_, but rather, Belfalas. Now the name not only made sense, but also possessed a poetic imagery that she could appreciate. Indeed, she could feel the sea's call in her blood despite the fact that Belfalas was not the westernmost coast of Middle Earth; not even now after the lands of Beleriand had been destroyed. She noted that the king had remained standing during his welcome, and so she too stood, for etiquette required that she allow him to seat himself first.

"Thanks do I give for thy gracious welcome, O King," Helluin replied, "for here do I feel again the sea longing of all our people. Indeed thou hast honored the call to the west, for thou hast raised a realm upon the shores of the Sundering Sea."

"Yet from these shores hath none gone thither as did thy peoples, sailing hence from the western shores of Beleriand long ago." For a moment Lenwe gazed at Helluin with sad contemplation in his eyes for a lost opportunity long past recall. "Oft hath I wondered why in his wisdom did not Orome convey our hosts hither and thence to Aman. Would we not hath been better served by marching thus, away from the Great Enemy to the north?"

His words made sense to Helluin. All the Eldar would have been more safely and quickly brought to the seacoast here, for the march would have bypassed Eriador and Beleriand, the Hithaeglir and the Ered Luin, and they would have passed ever further from Angband rather than closer. Not only that, but the sea crossing would have been much shorter from a debarkation further south in the Mortal Lands. Yet had shortening the journey been Orome's aim, he would have led the Eldar even further south…by paths south of the Inland Sea of Helcar to the southern continent and thence due west along the Girdle of Arda.

"I know not the counsels of the Valar, or by what wisdom was our path chosen," she replied, "for thy words hold wisdom I cannot refute. Yet to Beleriand was the call given, and following thither Orome's horn, the Hosts of the Eldar did indeed set sail and were brought to Aman, not by ship, but upon Tol Eressea. Pray tell me, O King, hath none among thy mariners ventured forth into the west from these havens?"

"Indeed in the early years of this realm many did chance passage west upon the waves," Lenwe answered, "yet none succeeded in finding Aman, and some failed to return. Eventually we came to accept that 'twas not so much the direction, but rather the willingness to persevere in heeding the Valar's call that the journey tested. Now it hast been long since any hath sought Aman from these shores."

Lenwe sighed and fell silent. Helluin could only nod. She had suspected as much after Lenwe's earlier comments and observations. The king finally returned to seat himself on his throne, and once he was settled, Helluin bowed again and took her seat as well.

"I would harken to what tidings of thy journeys thou would share, Helluin," King Lenwe said, "for none I hath yet spoken with hath seen the Blessed Realm. Some few mariners of Cirdan hath come among us with tales of Beleriand and the Wars of the Western Lands, and even some mention of the Host of Aman, yet none hast seen the Undying Lands with their own eyes. Such who hath art now few in Middle Earth. Speak to me, I beseech thee, for comfort of my soul and surcease of the constant longing that ever comes with the sound of the waves upon my shores."

There was no way that Helluin could deny his request, for she knew only too well the Sea Longing that had been born in the hearts of all the Eldar so many ages ago. Though he had led his people from the march and forsaken the Summons of the Valar, still the yearning for the West burned in his heart. And so Helluin spent the day and most of the night in speech, relating the time she had spent after the Host of Finwe had passed west beyond the Vale of Anduin. Long she spoke of Aman, for who more of the Eldar had explored its lands in the noontime of the Age of the Trees? Who else had sought its secrets and roamed its precincts, as had she? With words she created pictures in the minds of all that harkened to her tale, and indeed none moved during her recitation, but sat entranced, their hearts swept far away in time and space.

With wonder did the king hear of her visits with Nienna in her house near the Halls of Mandos, from which they had viewed the Eternal Night beyond the fences of Arda. He wept at the beauty she conveyed in her description of the Light of the Trees, blending silver and gold, and lancing through the Calacirya across the waters of Belaeger to Tol Eressea in the Bay of Eldamar. And breathless did he receive her halting words as she tried to convey the sensations she felt as she'd stood 'neath the Trees, bedewed with their radiant rain of light that enflamed the spirit yet scorched not the flesh. Little did he know that among all those of the Firstborn, she alone had done thus and could describe the sensation of being cradled in the brilliance of the Undying Light of Aman. For hour upon hour he sat spellbound, committing her words to memory, to be replayed for inspiration in the long years ahead during his life and beyond. When finally she had fallen silent he knew as never before the mingled longing and the overwhelming wonder of an Age lost but to memory that now lived in his memory too. Were it possible, he would have traded his kingdom and even his life to have stood in her place, and he recognized that from her he had received a gift of the heart such as none had proffered before through all his years upon Middle Earth.

Throughout the king's hall the Nandor who had gathered to hear the tale were affected likewise, and this crowd had grown from the few advisors present at the start to a throng that pressed close 'round by the end. In but a few hours, Helluin had enriched the spirits of a kingdom, for the images she painted in their minds would be shared far and wide, remaining ever vivid in the retelling. For words and the feelings they evoke are a potent force among the Eldar, whose mind's eyes see from the heart, and Helluin's words lived long among the Nandor of Belfalas.

"Wondrous is thy tale, Helluin," King Lenwe said when she had finally fallen silent, "and well told. My heart rejoices that such once was within the circles of Arda. I thank thee, and after rest and refreshment, I would again enjoy thy company this eve, to hear of the days of the sun and moon as they were in the lands to the west. Go thee now with my attendants, in peace and welcome, and return to my halls and company with the stars."

Helluin bowed her head and rose as the king stood and adjourned his court.

"I thank thee for thy welcome and would be honored to again share thy company in this noble hall, O King," Helluin responded, "and I shalt provide such detail as I can of events in the First Age of the Sun and of the time after the War of Wrath."

Then as the king left the hall through a private doorway behind the throne's alcove, Helluin followed the attendants the king had assigned to look after her comfort. From the great hall they walked back out of the keep and into an adjoining building in which were the apartments of the king's household, his advisors, captains, soothsayers, healers, scribes, and loremasters. There Helluin was given rooms, and refreshment was brought to her. She discovered that her pack, her bow, and her sword, Anguirel had been brought up from the door. Finally she was left to her repose.

The next evening, Helluin discovered that a feast had been set in the hall by Lenwe's people, in honor of their guest. Much fine fare and many kegs of wine and ale were consumed amidst good cheer, and to the household of the king was Helluin introduced. She found herself enjoying the company, for none reveled so light-heartedly as the Elves. Yet amidst the dining and drinking, and the fellowship of the host, there was also much curiosity and many questions, and Helluin could scare take a bite between proffering answers. To many there, but especially to the king, did Helluin report on her later travels in Middle Earth. Of greatest interest were her tidings of Lindórinand upon Celebrant, and the rule of Lenwe's grandson, King Lenwin. Strange it seemed to her that though the feast went on well into the night, never did she tire of it, nor did her patience grow thin.

At some point during the hours of darkness, musicians began to play and voices were raised in song. After some numbers of recitals, the king stood and silenced all with a gesture of his hands. The throng fell into an expectant silence, waiting to hear his words.

Lenwe turned to Helluin who sat upon his left, and made a request of her, saying, "My honored guest, I would, for the pleasure of all those present, beseech thee for a song of Valinor, for surely such a land must be steeped in blessed music as well as light."

Though unexpected, the king's request had been graciously worded, and Helluin could understand the desire she read in the faces of those gathered 'round. She smiled and nodded in assent, knowing it would be unfitting to refuse. She was just thankful that she had always had a good singing voice. Now what she had learned of music from Arandil long ago in Tirion would be of aid to her.

"Lord, I would be honored to perform a song of the Blessed Realm for thy household, and in truth, I miss the music of yonder shores. Permit me a moment and the use of a harp?" She requested, looking at the players until her eyes lit on an instrument.

The musician came to her and handed over his harp, smiling as he did so at the honor done him in her request. She took it, thanking him and noting the fourteen strings within its golden frame. She gently brushed her fingers across them to discern the tuning and then made a couple adjustments. Last, she closed her eyes a moment to concentrate on her choice before beginning to pluck a tune whose lilting notes rose and fell like a flight of swifts cavorting in evening light.

_**In starlit darkness I awoke to behold the forest still**,_

_And wandered long beside a mere 'neath green and peaceful hills._

_But in the darkness shapes did move like shadows 'cross the sky,_

_And some among my kin were lost, all gone without a cry._

_So soon we wandered not alone, nor yet in twos or threes,_

_For our first home was shared by evil creeping 'neath the trees.  
_

_**In starlit darkness then I heard the sounds of golden hooves**,_

_And in the distance rang a horn that called all hearts to move._

_Then coming through the darkling boles a rider on his steed,_

_The Hunter of the Valar brought the westward marching need. _

_And so we traveled not alone for our host followed ever west,_

_The Summons of the Blessed Ones, that drew us on our quest.  
_

_**In starlit darkness o'er many miles, we marched to heed the call**,_

_And oft times stopped and started ere we climbed the Misty Wall,_

_Then through a green and pleasant land before the Walls of Blue,_

_Though west, 'twas not the land we sought and so we traveled through._

_Now finally we came upon that westernmost of mortal lands,_

_Where Sirion and Gelion flowed and waves crashed on the strands.  
_

_**In starlit darkness beside the shore we took the island ship**,_

_And sailed the dark and Sundering Sea on a god-enchanted trip._

_Then long upon the waves we sailed on toward the Blessed Shore,_

_Upon a course both south and west, 'til we came to Valinor,_

_Then setting foot on the Undying Lands where bliss is what one sees,_

_We passed long years in Tirion 'neath the Light of Yavanna's Trees._

The song had many more verses and long did Helluin sing. And all harkened to her words of the journey to Aman as they had been set down long before by a singer of the Blessed Realm. Now as with the music of the Eldar of Aman, (who for their part emulated the music of the Ainur, that is, the Valar and Maiar), this song contained within its structure much power. It evoked responses from the hearts of all who listened, much as Helluin's song had affected the Avari of Greenwood or the Nandor of Lindórinand. Soon many wept and many sat silent in longing, and many others felt the desire to again test the sea for the goal of sailing to the Undying Lands. Thus, when at last Helluin concluded her song, the king rose to his feet and spoke.

"In the founding years of this realm, mariners took ship and sailed ever west in hope of coming eventually to the Undying Lands, and there to do reverence to the Blessed Ones. Yet never did any come thither, or if they did, then they returned not with tidings. Over the years the voyages grew fewer and fewer and the quest to reach Aman became lost to despair and was no longer attempted. And, it seems to me that perhaps the Valar in their wisdom hath shrouded the way hence against those of Middle Earth, whether mariners of the Firstborn or the Followers, or even of the Enemy. Yet now the song of Helluin hast given me hope and rekindled in my heart the westward desire, and these mingle with the longing for the sea that afflicts us all. Therefore in days to come, let us again seek westward, for perhaps with the counsels of one who hast seen Aman, we too shalt find our way thither at last, for once that summons was given to our ears and hearts too."

It was a brave and hopeful declaration, but Helluin thought it ill-fated, for though the Summons had in truth come to all the Eldar, that had been long ago and the failure of Lenwe's mariners in the past boded poorly for success now. In spite of her misgivings, Helluin resolved to give what aid she could, for the quest itself was noble in intent and she could not gainsay it in good conscience. As the Host of Belfalas cheered King Lenwe's words, she exchanged a glance with the king and nodded her agreement to help. And after doing so, she felt the first twinges of some doom alighting upon her shoulders. It was the 17 Ivanneth, (September 17th), S.A. 597.

To Be Continued


	11. In An Age Before Chapter 11

**In An Age Before - Part 11**

_This revision is being posted to address a legitimate concern from a reviewing reader, and clarifies a point pertaining to the fate of Maedhros and Maglor. The author thanks Calvusfelix for prompting me to hunt out this passage of dialog between Helluin and Veantur and then add a footnote. Maglor is not dead, but Helluin wrongly assumes he is._

**Chapter Nine**

_**Upon Belegaer, the Sundering Sea - The Second Age of the Sun**_

23Gwaeron, (March 23rd), S.A. 600. In two and a half years the Nandor had launched two explorer ships and laid down the keels of three more that now lay abuilding in Edhellond. King Lenwe had been serious about seeking the West again and his people joined him in his hope. On several of those voyages Helluin had gone aboard ship, for she had learned much from the Teleri of Alqualonde. Yet the Nandor of Belfalas were already competent mariners and they took well to navigating the open sea. The problem was that no one knew how far away lay Aman. In navigating by the stars, it had always been easier to determine positions north and south, while east and west were much more difficult to plot. Even worse, the world had changed since last Helluin had walked in Aman. The western lands of Middle Earth were now reduced, and the seas before the Undying Lands had been sewn with shadows and islands of enchantment by the Valar. Therefore the Nandor proceeded slowly, each voyage a bit longer, building up their charts and marking the known. On their seventh voyage they made their first great discovery.

The waves had grown over the course of the day and now stood at three fathoms between crest and trough. The white ship with its sea green trim was tossed as her helmsman strove to keep her bow pointed into the oncoming waves. She was the King's Ship _Aearben_, (Sea Rider), measuring 100 feet in length, with a beam of 22 feet and a draft of 17. Her mainmast rose 32 feet, her foremast 24, and each held a square rigged top and main sail. In favorable winds her slender shapely hull could make 18 knots. In form she was similar to the craft of the Sindar of Mithlond, but all these were built for runs about the coasts of Middle Earth. _Aearben_ was now 200 leagues southwest of Edhellond upon Belegaer and she had run into a storm.

Overhead the sky was grey and clouds hung low above the waves. Darkness was about three hours away, but already it felt like twilight was upon them. A couple leagues off the crew could see sheets of rain falling and the wind had continued to increase. After consulting with the sailing master and the ship's seer, the captain had given the order to hold their course southwest, and so the sailing master had ordered the sails dropped and the ship hove into the wind to ride out the storm.

"Secure the hatches and rig for heavy wind and rainfall," the first mate ordered at a nod from the captain. The storm was approaching fast now. "Call in the watch," he yelled.

The crew scrambled to secure all openings in the hull against the coming downpour. Rawhide sheets were rigged to shield the helmsman and safety lines were run down both sides of the deck. Secondary support lines were tied off to give added stability to the masts lest they be ripped from the hull, and failsafe lines were added to keep any spars torn free of the masts from whipping the deck like giant flails.

"Watch, ho!" The second mate called up to the crow's nest, "Come ye down!"

Up on the small talan atop the mainmast, Helluin waved that she had heard and began her descent. The wind tore at her and she had felt it increasing to the point that she would have come down soon even without the order, yet she had stayed, feeling that there might be something yet besides the darkening clouds to see. Now she carefully eased herself through the talan's railing and began to climb down the rigging. She took a last look ahead into the wind and stopped dead. Had there been something? A single straight line atop the waves at the horizon for just a moment, gone in the next instant as the ship's roll brought her bow down? She couldn't be sure. The wave passed and the _Aearben_ rode up the next…she crested, but nothing did Helluin see. If it had been the mast of another vessel, then that vessel was now itself below the crest of whatever wave it rode. Only fortune had brought it into sight…brought both ships to crest at the same instant…if it had truly been there at all. Helluin couldn't be sure and she couldn't wait to make certain. She continued her descent to the deck.

Once there she made her way to the stern and took her position beside the helmsman. This was the foul weather watch station, and from it she would complete her watch in the storm. She peered ahead into the rain as it began falling, quickening to a torrent, and ever she strove to get another glimpse of the phantom mast she might have seen. But now the sea was rolling even higher and the air was awash with spray and rain, and her visibility was greatly curtailed. As the tempest grew, she lent a hand to the helmsman, steadying the wheel against the surge. An hour passed, and then another. True twilight was falling.

_Aearben_ rode up and crested another wave, the seventh, and a large wave it was, and there for a moment Helluin saw again the dark vertical of an approaching mast almost dead ahead.

"Ship ahead!" She yelled at the top of her lungs.

Over the howl of the gale the captain barely heard her though he stood only a half-dozen strides away. He looked at her and she thrust out an arm, her finger indicating the direction. He nodded and followed her line of sight. At the next crest they both saw the mast, and they continued to watch it with every rise and fall as it came closer. It continued to grow in height, yet still they hadn't seen the hull beneath it. Again and gain they rose and fell and with each sighting Helluin's estimation of the mast's height had to be revised. Soon she discerned that there were three masts, not just one, but they were almost perfectly aligned with her position, putting the approaching craft almost dead ahead. And it was a large craft, far larger than _Aearben_…of this she was quickly becoming certain.

Another quarter hour passed and then finally she saw the hull. As _Aearben_ rose she caught a glimpse of blue and gold. A few more sightings and Helluin guessed the ship no less than 300 feet in length, with 25 feet above the waterline compared to Aearben's 9. Her mainmast probably rose no less than 130 feet! To Helluin, she was a dreadnought.

Finally, when no more than two furlongs separated the craft, Helluin was finally able to make out the device upon the standard that flew from her main top; a single rayed star amidst a field of dark blue above a white tree. In all of Middle Earth she had never seen this heraldry before.

The great ship was running before the storm while _Aearben_ was bearing into it, but as she approached, the bigger vessel smoothly hove about and came parallel, standing off two hundred yards, for prudence demanded sea room in foul weather between ships. There she held, skillfully matching _Aearben_ and riding with her as the storm blew on through the night. With the dawn she was still there, and as the clouds passed and the rain failed, her decks came alive with the crewmen of the first watch.

Aboard _Aearben_ there was an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation. Could this be a ship of their sundered kin, the Teleri, sailing Belegaer from Alqualonde? The Nandor hoped fervently that it was so. Helluin alone knew that it was not. The Telerian ships were smaller than _Aearben_, and all that she had ever seen were swan prowed and painted white. This was something else, an unknown vessel, and the work of some great maritime power equally unknown to her. With the crew, she waited.

In the second hour after Anar's rising, the ship broke topsails and maneuvered closer. Many mariners stood watching along her rails, while aboard _Aearben_ the crew stood staring back. The captain ordered the helm to close to hailing distance with the stranger. Below deck, Helluin donned her armor and gathered her weapons.

Up close the strange vessel appeared even bigger. She dwarfed _Aearben_; indeed she was over three times their length and her main deck overshadowed the Nandor's by almost 20 feet. At thirty yards an officer called out through a speaking trumpet, hailing them in an unfamiliar language. _Aearben's_ captain scratched his head in confusion.

Standing beside the captain, Helluin said, "Sir, if this be truly a ship from Valinor, then by rights they would speak the High Elven tongue, yet their hail was not in Quenya. Still, perhaps I should try in Quenya anyway?"

The captain thought for a moment before nodding in agreement. It couldn't hurt.

"Hail and well met," Helluin called out in the High Elven tongue of Aman, "this is the ship _Aearben_, out of Edhellond in Belfalas. Explorers upon the Sundering Sea art we, and come in friendship and in reverence for the West. We ask thee to name thyself and thy great vessel."

For a moment there was silence from the far deck, then a few cheers. The officer with the speaking horn called back in Quenya.

"Hail _Aearben_ of Edhellond, this is Entulessë, ship of King Tar-Elendil of Númenórë, under the command of Veantur, Captain-Admiral of the King's Ships. We sail forth in exploration and rediscovery of the lands of our origins. We come in peace after many lives of Men, hoping to make contact with the High King of the Eldar upon the Hither Shores."

"Thou art the sons of the Atani," Helluin cried out, "of all Men, most renowned in the wars of Beleriand! I remember the valor of Huor and Hurin and aided Tuor of Gondolin, Earendil's father. That line all revere in Middle Earth, for of their courage came salvation for Mortal Lands. Aptly named is thy ship!" For Entulessë signified _Return_ in the High Elven tongue. _And thou shall come again to the Hither Shores at last_, Helluin thought.

And so it was that there in the vastness of the Sundering Sea, the first contact was made between the Elves of Middle Earth and the Men of Númenor, and among both crews there was great rejoicing. Soon it came to be known that all spoke Sindarin also, and in that language the captains conversed. Three days the ships remained together with much exchange of crews and tidings, and there many friendships were forged.

Now the crew of _Aearben_ was wont to prevail upon the Captain-Admiral that he should come to Edhellond and meet with King Lenwe, but Veantur was under orders to seek for the High King Gil-galad, and he dwelt in Lindon. Yet Veantur promised that upon his return, an embassy would be dispatched to Belfalas to meet with the king. Also, Veantur brought charts to _Aearben's_ sailing master, and these showed not only Númenor, but also the shores of the Undying Lands to their west, and in this all of the Nandor rejoiced. Then, rather than sailing ahead, _Aearben's _captain turned about and sailed for home to convey his news and the precious charts to Edhellond. Soon another ship would sail, with greater knowledge, and perhaps come into the West at last.

During the time of their meetings, Helluin came aboard the ship of Westernesse and took counsel there with the Dúnedain. Tidings they told and tidings received and all were amazed at what the passing years had wrought. No less amazing to the Men was the fact that Helluin picked up their speech, the Adunaic tongue, so quickly that in but a couple days she could make her mind known, if somewhat haltingly, in the tongue of Númenor. Ere the ships parted ways on the third day, Helluin made a request of Veantur, whom she found to be a noble man of great courage and irrepressible spirit, indeed an explorer much like herself. Thus when _Entulessë_ sailed for Lindon, Helluin sailed with them, seeking to see those among the Eldar of Beleriand who still remained in Middle Earth.

She bade the crew of _Aearben_ farewell and charged them to express her thanks to King Lenwe, saying that she would come among them again someday, for life was long. The Nandor were sorry to see her go, yet they were high of spirits and their sadness over her departure was tempered by much good fortune. They would keep watch for her in the future and she would always find welcome in Belfalas.

"It hast been nigh on 500 years since I was last in this part of Eriador, Captain-Admiral, but at that time, the High King and the Eldar of the Falas had removed to Lindon, north and south about the Gulf of Lune," Helluin told Veantur as they examined his maps of Middle Earth. She pointed out the site of the city she'd seen being built long ago. "Thereabouts the coastal water was shallow, with many shoals and with no good anchorage for a ship of _Entulessë's_ drought, but Cirdan had been abuilding a haven up the firth at Mithlond, here." She indicated the spot on the chart.

"T'would be a better haven, sure," Veantur agreed, "yet my embassy is to Gil-galad and to him I must come if possible." With his typical decisiveness he outlined a plan after but a moment's consideration. "_Entulessë_ shalt lay off the coast of Lindon 'nigh the king's city and I shalt dispatch a boat thither to come ashore. After presenting ourselves before the High King, we shalt request birthing in the haven at Mithlond."

"That would be well, Captain-Admiral," Helluin agreed, "and I would request thy company accept my presence in the party that makes first contact with the High King. I knew him long years ago and would meet with him again and others who were with him."

She was thinking of Celeborn and Galadriel among others, for those few of the Noldor, that like Galadriel had chosen to remain in Middle Earth, were most likely to be found in Lindon with the High King.

"Indeed I was't hoping to include thee, Helluin," Veantur said, "for we seek to renew the league of friendship and distant kinship that once flowed between the Eldar and Elros Peredhel of whom my king Tar-Elendil descends. Thy presence would be a boon."

"Then indeed thy course and mine run together," Helluin said looking at the sea chart, "near due north from here, and Cirdan too I knew and would meet again."

"So be it then," Veantur agreed, "for much would I reverence he who first taught shipcraft to the ancestors of my people, Tuor and Earendil, and gave aid to those of Avernien ere its sack."

For a moment his eyes hardened with the recollection of that deed which had driven his ancestors from their homes in Middle Earth with much slaughter. Not in six centuries and more was the memory diminished among his people, for they had been betrayed by the Eldar of the House of Feanor whom their mortal houses had once served as allies long before. Yet 'twas not the first time, for Beren had been hounded, and Luthien too, by the brothers, Celegorm and Curufin. Helluin read the thoughts in Veantur's eyes and saw into his heart.

"Expend not thy energies in hatred for the dead, Veantur," Helluin told him softly, "for by the treachery and avarice of the House of Feanor did many suffer, Man and Elf alike. Not even the Valar favored their quest, and their oath brought all their lords to ruin. Not a single Silmaril did they retake to claim or hold, for of those jewels but one survived, and that in the hand of one of thine own. Upon the quays of Avernien did I slay Amrod and Amras, and in pursuit of Maedhros and Maglor did I hunt in Taur-Im-Duinath to recover their captives, Elrond and Elros. None of Feanor's sons now live**¹**, Veantur, and the work of their hands is lost save that which nightly graces the heavens. Be at peace, O Captain, for the grievances of thy house art redressed."

**¹**(This statement reflects Helluin's belief as to the fate of the last Feanorians, Maedhros and Maglor, who she last saw at the end of the War of Wrath ere they attempted to steal the Silmarils from the camp of the victorious Valar. She presumes them dead, though Maglor indeed survived. The only evidence she could possibly have to the contrary would have been the recollections of Elrond, and all he would have been able to say was that he hadn't seen either of the brothers die. This would be negative evidence and proves nothing. Still, in all the years since the war, neither Silmaril was ever seen or heard of again. As they were lost, so too would it be reasonable to presume their bearers were lost as well.)

For a moment Veantur looked at Helluin with an unreadable expression. Not until now had the length of life of the Firstborn truly been real to him; in the past it had been but a concept, a device in tales told. And from such a tale came a story he knew of the flight from Avernien, told and retold through the generations of his people in Númenor.

"Thou art the _Ngoldo naruo luneto hendu_of whom stories tell," Veantur said, "the Noldo of Blue Fire Eyes who was the Avenger of Avernien. The first King of Númenor, Elros Tar-Minyatur spoke of thee with reverence."

Now it was Helluin's turn to look at the man. The blood of her own kindred had stained her hands while the fire of battle lust had consumed her.

"I came at the command of Ulmo himself, who appeared to me in Vinyamar," Helluin said quietly, "to aid in some doom then unnamed by the prowess of my sword. There I took part in a kinslaying. Noldor and Sindar fell at my hand, and I fell within the curse as I had not at Alqualonde long before. Veantur, it was necessary and unpleasant, and yet I would do thus again should necessity force my hand."

Veantur nodded his head and lowered his eyes. All his people held this Noldo in high regard for what she had done, yet none had perceived the distaste with which it had been accomplished. And yet again he was reminded of the great ancientry of which she partook, the eternal Life of the Firstborn, something beyond the true understanding of Men. The kinslaying at Alqualonde had occurred in the Age of the Trees, over 1,200 years before if lore spoke true. Finally he looked back up to Helluin's eyes and spoke of the wonder and understanding that was just beginning to come to him.

"Many amongst my kin think they would cherish the unfailing life of the Eldar, for in short years ahead we art doomed to leave the world, to what end, none know. Yet now I perceive somewhat of the burden of sorrow and toil such a life as thine entails. Thou hast seen endless years of strife and war, the failing of dreams and the diminishing of hopes long held. At last I begin to understand the choice of Elros Tar-Minyatur, to be numbered among Men and to at last escape the bonds of Arda in hope of some better that lies beyond. Yet still I do not pity thee, Helluin, merely do I accept that to each kindred both good and bad art, by Iluvatar's design, encompassed within the doom of each kindred. In despite of this my curiosity prompts me to ask thy age and such of the tale of thy years as thou would share, for the days upon the sea art still many ere we come to Lindon, and no such chance perhaps shalt I enjoy again."

Helluin sighed and thought of the things she could tell this mortal. Much of it would be heard, but how much could truly be understood? Unlike the Nandor of Celebrant or Belfalas, this Man of Númenor was by his doom excluded from such perspective as could apprehend all that the years taught. And yet, what harm could it do? Already he had expressed the acceptance of their kindreds' separate dooms. That in itself bespoke wisdom, and had not the Edain always worked to better themselves through their association with the Eldar in Beleriand? From what they had learned in those days long ago they had built this very ship and now sought their old mentors in friendship long sundered across the sea.

Helluin looked across the table. Veantur was a tall man standing a hand's width above a fathom, taller by some inches even than she, with the dark hair and eyes that she recalled from Tuor and those in whom the blood of the House of Beor still ran. He was strong of hand and of will, a good commander, much loved by his mariners and at home upon the sea. There was courage and nobility in him, as there was in all the Men of Númenor in the youth of their kindred, and like them he strove to better his lot. Within him lived the fire of the mortal kindreds that drove them forward, as if time ever followed hard upon their heels, to seek for achievement ere their time passed. At the age of 73, he had risen to the command of his king's ships.

"Veantur, we art very different, and yet much the same," she began. "My memories go far back, yet not to the beginning, for I was born after the Host of Finwe, first King of the Noldor, had led his people upon the road from Cuivienen. In all I hath seen," she paused for a moment to tally the years, "5,116 years of the sun, the greater part of which I passed in the Blessed Realm of Aman."

In Veantur's eyes she saw the light of curiosity blooming and his concentration fixate itself upon her as if she had woven about him some spell to bind the mind. Not so very different, she thought again, for 'tis much the same light as brightens my own eyes. It drove me to wander even in the lands of Aman, and it drives me to exploration still, within the fences of Middle Earth. No, we art not so very different at all.

_Entulessë_ rode the waves another fortnight and the great ship of Númenor was fast upon the water. Under full sails billowing from her three tall masts, she could make 26 knots. And during that time, Helluin held long converse with Veantur, Captain of the King's Ships of Númenor. Many were the hours they passed, speaking each to the other of the doings they had seen and the tales they knew. For the Man 'twas as if he had stepped forth into a dream, woven from the lore of all the days of the West, and he saw in his mind's eye that which had come to pass a long ere his kind first awoke in Hildorien far to the east. For Helluin it encompassed the renewal of an infectious energy that was the birthright of the short-lived and drove them to master what of the world they could ere their years and strength failed. This indeed was what drove their love of Arda and their deeds, always hoping to leave behind their lives' end greater than what they had found before them at their births. Faced with a finite span of years, they became intrepid, willing to chance the outrageous, and in doing so accomplished much in a short time.

The two found and treasured their common ground; as Helluin had realized, they were both possessed of explorers' hearts. More than this they each found nobility in the other that brought forth a mutual admiration. And they were comfortable together even as they challenged each other's minds and spirits.

"Would that thou were of the Eldar Kindred, Veantur," Helluin said absently one afternoon as they sat conversing in the Captain's cabin, "for together we could share great adventures of discovery during years unending. In Middle Earth there art many shores and many lands, not just those upon Belegaer facing Aman. South lies a whole continent unknown, and rumor makes it that yet another lies in the furthest east, a mirror as it were of Aman itself, and from whence Arien rises each morn."

When she looked back she saw tears growing in the Captain's eyes and it alarmed her greatly for she realized that she had enticed him with that which could never be, and in so doing had exposed a sorrow that had been growing in his heart.

"I…I am sorry, Veantur," Helluin stuttered, "I spoke my heart's desire without thought, and in doing such a rashness hath become little better spoken than Feanor when he took his oath. I see that by my words I hath done thee a hurt. Would that I could recall those words, my friend. I am sorry."

Veantur wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and sighed. He knew full well that such a dream could never be, for he was in the service of a lord he loved, and ere a season as it were had passed for her, he would be old and ready to lay down his life. And yet the dream fluttered, like a golden moth before his mind's eye, and no less desirable for that it could never be. But, was it really the prospect for endless voyages in her company for which his soul cried? In silence he thought and delved deeper among his feelings for the truth. Yes, such a life would be all his spirit of adventure could conceive, but there was more towards which his heart yearned, and that too seemed impossible as well.

"Helluin, thy words bring me pain, yes, but the sweetest of acknowledgments as well, for by thy declaration thou hast claimed that thou would find my company desirable for an Age. And though I hath not an Age, nor even to you a great span of years remaining, still my heart soars to think of what could hath been were we of one kindred. Indeed I would still follow thee until my life's ending, forsaking the love of my kin and duty if thy love were given to me to fill that empty place within. In these last days I hath come to know thee, and behind the heroic legend of my people I hath seen a spirit bright with the thirst for knowledge and the discovery of the new. Such a spirit I hath come to cherish, as I hath not cherished any spirit before. Say not that thou would take back thy words or deny the feelings they express. Were I of the Eldar Kindred I would this day cleave to thy heart for all the days to come."

For long moments neither said a word, but simply stared in to the depths of each other's eyes. Outside the cabin the sound of waves lapping in a hissing rush down the hull could be heard, along with the wind's moaning whistle among the lines and the crisp snap of the sails. The boat's shifting as it rolled upon the sea was forgotten and indeed all the outside world faded for that time. In those moment Helluin recalled the feelings in her heart when she'd first met Arandil in Tirion and that for lack of this very thing she'd found in Veantur, that love had died. And the feelings in her heart now? Warm with caring and excited by the spirit of the mortal Man who sat across the table from her. Her heart was turned to him, and though he had not the span of years to match hers, still, would it not be better to hold what was, than mourn the chance lost should she pass it by? She thought of Lenwe, sitting in his halls longing through an Age of the World for the choice he had made and the West that he would never see. She resolved that she would not follow in his steps. She thought of the choice made by Luthien, and by Idril whom she had known.

And yet she could no more take Veantur from his duty or his people or his king in good conscience. He had a life already and many depended upon him. Yet for the short span of his years, could she not join him in that life? Could she not enrich both their lives for those decades while his lasted? 'Twas but a blink of the eyes to her; and she felt that it was a chance she did not want to miss. T'would be all the sweeter in her memories for having not been long.

"Cleave to me then, Veantur, for I shalt cleave to thee for so long as thy life shalt last," she said with a smile that reached her eyes, making them flash with blue fire, for once not in anger, "and though the time may seem short to me, still it shalt be sweet. For even as thou accepts that Iluvatar in His wisdom hast laid different dooms upon our kindreds, so too shalt I accept that in His wisdom He hast seen fit to bring thy spirit, kindred to mine, into a body not of my kin. Let us then explore together at the command of thy king, for in long years past I was a guardian of his forefathers' host and I will again look to the welfare of the House of Tuor and Idril."

And hearing her words, Veantur gave thanks to Eru that upon the seas of Middle Earth more than one of his prayers had been answered unlooked for. For he would come to Mithlond, the first of his people to do so, and he would come there coupled in heart with one of the Eldar's own as had been only twice in the long Age before. He rose from his side of the table and came around it to where Helluin sat smiling up at him. Then taking her hand he raised her to her feet and swept her into a tight embrace, feeling his heart glow as she wrapped her arms around him. In their first kiss he felt the tingling of a force he could only liken to the charge of a great storm upon the open sea, as if sparks of lightning had burned all about his lips and invigorated him with their divine energy. It was a feeling he would come to relish for all the years of his life.

When the great ship came at last upon the shore of Lindon and from the deck the Men of Númenor first espied the city of the High King, none cheered so loud as the Captain did. Soon a longboat had been lowered, and among the oarsmen rode Veantur and Helluin and the several others of the ship's officers such as were to make up the embassy to Gil-galad. In short order the mariners hauled upon their oars and soon the boat beached upon the shore. There awaiting them stood a deputation from the Elven King, and among these were old friends from Beleriand that Helluin had not seen in centuries.

She made the introductions all 'round, and then the party was conveyed to the city where the High King held his court. At the court she again made introductions, and Gil-galad seemed relatively happy at seeing her. There too were Celeborn of Doriath and his wife, Galadriel. Helluin was impressed at how the young daughter of Finarfin had grown into a queenly woman of the Noldor, radiant in her beauty, with silver-gold hair attesting to her Vanya/Teleri heritage. For some reason Helluin still carried the image of the Elven woman in her bright-eyed and impetuous youth, eager for adventure in Middle Earth. It wasn't realistic, she knew, and she consciously tried to banish the image, but Galadriel was 2,520 years her junior and for some reason it persisted, much to her chagrin. It was probably because they'd had…history.

"Five hundred times and more hath the leaves fallen in Middle Earth since last we parted, Helluin," Gil-galad said as he came down from his throne to embrace her. "We hath all hoped for this meeting through the years and oft wondered whither thy wanderings had taken thee. Perhaps thou shalt enlighten us o'er a meal this eve?"

"I would be glad to share a table and conversation with thee, Ereinion," she said using his birth name, "for indeed much hath come to pass and the most recent not the least."

Here Helluin cast her eyes to Veantur who stood to the side and Galadriel noted her glance. A small grin curled her lips at the sight of the dour Helluin in love and she nudged Celeborn in the ribs and nodded discreetly to direct his attention thither.

"About time, _Artanis_**¹** my love," the once Prince of Doriath whispered to his wife, using her father-name as he often did in private.

**¹**(**Artanis, _Noble Woman_**, UT, HoGaC, pg. 231)

"And what shalt come of this union I wonder?" Galadriel whispered back, smirking.

Celeborn gave his wife a sidelong glance, hoping she wouldn't antagonize Helluin. He had seen this before on the few occasions when the two women had come into proximity in Beleriand. Galadriel was sometimes wont to engage in competitiveness with the childless older Noldo, and he knew how proud she was of their daughter, Celebrian. The problem was that he didn't really understand Helluin even after all the years of the First Age, and quite frankly the stories he'd heard about her made him uneasy. He just couldn't understand the rivalry Galadriel had felt in Aman, of which she had indeed confessed little. So many of the Host of Finwe had been secretly smitten with the raven-haired commoner with the flashing blue eyes. And it had been all the worse for his wife that Helluin had been interested in none of them, preferring to endlessly wander the lands alone. Galadriel's youthful rivalry had been completely one-sided and never resolved.

The young princess of the House of Finarfin had felt her own popularity and status challenged, irrational as that might have been, for she had always been a great beauty who had suffered no lack of attention. She even understood this, yet couldn't quite quash the old feelings of having to contest for her celebrity with a commoner who regarded her only as the daughter of her young friend, Prince Finarfin. But worst of all had been Galadriel's own confusing feelings towards Helluin.

There had been a day when she and her brother Finrod had come to Ezellohar at the evening's mingling of the lights. There Helluin had stood, naked and still as a statue 'neath Laurelin and Telperion, glowing with light and soaking in the radiance of their blended dew. It had been the most inspiring and exciting thing she'd ever seen. A glance at Finrod's huge eyes had showed his appraisal to be the same as hers. Galadriel could still call the image to mind as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. She'd wanted nothing more than to join the other woman, embrace her, and stand pressed tightly together as the Light of the Two Trees rained down upon them. Even from a distance she could feel the heat of the Lights mirroring the heat within herself. Yet for many reasons she had dared not. It was humiliating since she'd thought she had come to dislike the pretentiously named Maeg-mormenel.

Beside her, Finrod had been panting as hard as she herself. Galadriel had grabbed him by the collar and they'd fled Corollaire ere Helluin had marked their presence, but try as she might, she had never banished the image from her mind.

Celeborn's attention was commanded by his wife's incredulous hissed whisper of, "Is she taller than when last we saw her?" He blinked, not believing what he'd heard.

"How in Middle Earth could she be taller than she was aforetime?" He asked, wondering if Galadriel were finally becoming overmastered by her jealousy after not seeing Helluin for over 500 years. Now he really was worried. Before he could move or speak, Galadriel was striding across the floor towards Helluin and the High King.

In a moment Galadriel was beside Helluin, subconsciously straightening her posture to retain her lessened advantage in height. From a distance, Celeborn choked. Helluin was now not an inch shorter than his wife was, whereas before, she'd been closer to a hand's width shorter.

Helluin turned from Gil-galad and smiled at Galadriel before sweeping her into an awkward embrace, the slightest of grins curling her lips.

"By the Valar, Finarfin's little girl's all grown up," Helluin exclaimed as if this were a surprise, "I still can't believe the sweet young princess I remember from Aman is such a beautiful woman now." Helluin actually leaned in and kissed Galadriel on the cheek.

Celeborn cringed. Helluin's manner and comments were condescending and mocking, all the more so because she'd never taken Galadriel's rivalry seriously. Now here she was making light of a competition she'd never participated in.

"Speaking of growing up," Galadriel retorted, eyeing the top of Helluin's head, "it seems someone besides me hast had some growing up to do recently. How did that happen, my dear? Perchance 'tis love that hast forced thee to complete thy extended adolescence?"

For a moment Helluin looked at Galadriel as if she'd lost her mind, then she recalled her time in Greenwood Forest and the strange sensations she'd felt after drinking from Oldbark's stream. This was the first time she'd been among any she'd known before that incident. 'Twas the first time anyone could have noticed a change in her. She glanced up and realized that now the height difference between herself and the Princess was almost nil. She smiled broadly.

"Well, Your Highness, 'tis like this," Helluin began as she put an arm around Galadriel's shoulders and spoke to her in low tones of confidentiality, "beyond Hithaeglir lies a land astride the River Celebrant," she said, knowing the other Noldo's weakness for silver. "'Twas a pleasant land indeed, but best of all, it hosted a forest of mellyrn as is found nowhere else in the west of Middle Earth. Some enchantment certainly lies upon that land, I deem, for by slaking there my thirst, o'er several years I discovered my height increased. Indeed I found myself not only taller, but increased in all dimensions." Here she smirked and inhaled subtly as she marked Galadriel's quick unconscious glance towards her breasts. "I am sure its effects upon thee would be the same as they were upon me, Princess."

"An enchanted stream in the mellyrn forest of Celebrant beyond Hithaeglir," Galadriel mused, cataloging this bit of intelligence as a gleam took root in her eyes.

Helluin could see the wheels turning in her head. Sooner or later the princess would end up visiting Lindórinand…she was sure of it. The beautiful slender blonde had always desired a more voluptuous figure. To aid herself in stifling the laughter she felt trying to escape, Helluin released the Princess and made her way over to greet Celeborn, whom she noticed was watching her in an uneasy silence. The man had always been nervous around her, she recalled. In deference to this she approached him calmly, and when he relaxed, she snatched him in a bear hug and gave him a boisterous greeting.

"Celeborn, thank the Valar thou and Nerwen**¹** hath been well! 'Tis good to see thee!"

To his credit, the Prince of Doriath didn't jump out of his skin, but his bulging eyes told Helluin that her surprise had elicited a response. He choked and mumbled a greeting. Helluin released him and turned in time to catch Gil-galad shaking his head, a fugitive smile on his face. Helluin gave him an innocent look. He had to clear his throat before speaking.

**¹**(**Nerwen, _Man-Maiden,_** Galadriel's mother-name, a reflection on her stature and physical abilities being on par with male Noldor. UT, HoGaC, pg. 229)

"My friends, both those newly met and those long sundered," here he gave Helluin a warning look, "t'would please me to hath thou all join me at the evening hour in the Hall of Feasting to celebrate our unions and reunions."

The High King looked at his guests. The Men of Númenor stood along one side of the room paying respectful attention. Helluin was doing a respectful job of suppressing whatever mirth she'd found, while Galadriel was whispering furiously with Celeborn and was completely oblivious to them all. He supposed that it was a good beginning.

That night at the King's Feast yet more of the Eldar were present, for news of the arrival of the Men of Númenor traveled fast. Cirdan had hastened from the Havens of Mithlond, with Elrond who had been visiting there, to join Gil-galad's table. Both greeted Helluin warmly and did the Númenóreans honor. Indeed for Elrond, this was as a meeting of kin, for his brother Elros had been the first king and their sundering still weighed on his heart. Tidings of his welfare were the first thing he asked about, and Veantur gave him the sad news.

"Indeed thy brother hast passed beyond the fences of the world, Elrond Peredhel," the Captain told the surviving Half-Elven, "and this but 58 years ago. Tar-Minyatur ruled Númenor 410 years and saw our land become friutful and his people living in peace. All revered him and looked to the guidance of his leadership with love. 'Tis now the tenth year of the reign of his great-grandson, Tar-Elendil, the fourth of the line of kings of thy blood."

"And so he was't blessed with an heir to carry the leadership of his people forward," Elrond mused, "that is good tidings. I rejoice that he was't able to elevate the lot of the Edain who suffered much, yet were ever-courageous allies and stalwart friends. I miss him greatly still, yet I must accept that for him and for thy people, his choice was right."

"We cannot thank thee in any way that would balance our debt for the gift of thy brother," Veantur said. "Our people loved their king, yet we cannot replace the love of a brother nor the league of kinship that comes with blood. Our gain will ever be thy loss, yet if there be need, our people will answer thy call in honor of our debt; future blood offered to pay for past blood received."

Elrond could only nod in acceptance. The Númenóreans were gracious and courteous in acknowledging the truth of the situation and offering their alliance. At the time he could not know that in long years ahead the sons of the sons of these Men would indeed come to the aid of the Eldar and would long be their most valiant and trustworthy allies.

"Tell me then of Númenor," Elrond requested of Veantur and his shipmates. Thus began a discussion that lasted long into the night and many listened to hear what had befallen the houses of their ancient friends.

At the same time, Cirdan and Helluin were conversing, at first catching up on old times and later about the Nandor of Lenwe in Belfalas. Cirdan related his tale of the building of Mithlond of which Helluin had seen only the first beginnings. He recounted the voyages of his mariners and their discovery of the havens at Edhellond, where their long sundered kin met them in boats upon the waves and offered their crews gracious hospitality. Much had Cirdan's people taught the Nandor, not the least of which was the Sindarin tongue, as well as improvements in their hulls and rigging. Helluin revealed the presence of another branch of the Nandor, those of Celebrant in the mellyrn nigh Anduin.

Many hours later as the night grew old, Helluin spoke of Khazad-dum, and her revelations left the Eldar and Men in amazement. None of those present had ever visited Belegost or Nogrod, but by the Gonnhirrim's own admission these were like hovels beside a mansion. Helluin could only say that 'neath Caradhras, Fanuidhol, and Celebdil, well 'nigh all the land was undermined with their delvings, the extent of which she could only guess at even after 20 years' residence. She told of the mastery of their smithies and stone craft, the wealth of their mines, and of their virulent hatred for the Yrch. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that both kindreds lived underground in similar mountainous areas and had of old been bitter foes.

Now Eriador had been little troubled by Yrch so far during the Second Age, but Helluin had found and fought them in the margins of the Hithaeglir and also in Greenwood. This was worrisome and bode ill for the future. Elrond, Gil-galad, and Cirdan all felt in her tales the foreshadowing of darker times yet to come. Their worries, however, were overshadowed by their wonder. Helluin had held converse with the Onodrim and even their wives! In so doing she had settled a long-standing uncertainty about their very existance, a point of debate that had persisted since the Elder Days. She had also met the Avari, those of the Quendi first sundered from all the Eldar present, and she was the only one who had ever met with them since the march from Cuivienen began. Indeed, none now dwelt in Middle Earth whose memory stretched back to those first days except perhaps some of the Avari. Elrond most of all longed for converse with them.

At some point during the night most of the Men dozed off, leaving the Eldar to their counsels. This caused them no discomfort. They merely had some of their household carry the fatigued mortals to apartments reserved for them where they could rest and sleep off the abundant wine that had accompanied the feasting. Now just ere dawn, Helluin and the other Eldar went to their rest as well, and Helluin came seeking the couch of Veantur. And he, waking somewhat with her arrival, felt himself in a dream as she lay down beside him, and ere he slept again, that dream blossomed sweet.

The next day the Númenóreans returned to _Entulessë,_ and they rode to haven up the Firth of Lune, until coming to Mithlond they dropped anchor. In wonder did they survey the beauty Cirdan's people had wrought upon those shores, and in wonder did the Sindar look upon the craft of Westernesse. Several days the Men spent among Cirdan's folk in league of friendship. Many were the tales told and much information about the sea was exchanged. Scribes worked to copy the charts of the Númenóreans and the Númenóreans studied much that was preserved in the lore of Mithlond. But finally, with much well wishing and promises of swift return, _Entulessë_ sailed for home, and upon her went Helluin into the west.

To Be Continued


	12. In An Age Before Chapter 12

**In An Age Before - Part 12**

_A visit to Númenor in th time of King Tar-Elendil._**

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**Chapter Ten**

_**Númenor, Westernesse - The Second Age of the Sun**_

After a voyage of twelve days, _Entulessë_ came home to port and dropped anchor beside the quays of Romenna, the haven closest to the King's City of Armenelos. For a full three days prior to their landfall the sailing master had set aside his charts and the helmsman needed no instruction for the way. Indeed all eyes aboard ship were drawn to the mighty mount that lofted its head from the sea into the clouds. The first unmistakable sight of it brought joy to all the mariners, for like nothing else, it signified home. Hour by hour it grew upon the horizon and this first sight of so great a peak, standing alone in the midst of Belegaer, was astonishing to Helluin. Verily, she thought, it raises its majestic brow to the heavens to be crowned by the stars. Indeed at night the stars were blocked from an increasing cone of the sky, but upon Tilion's rising the mount glowed silver, floating like a cloud upon the dark waves where danced the reflections of Varda's eternal stars. Thus it was that Helluin first saw the Pillar of Heaven, the Meneltarma, whose Tarmasundar formed the roots of the five peninsulas of Númenor. It was a sight she would never forget, even when, after decades of homecomings, it came to signify familiarity and the comfort of home, for the great volcano rose over 14,000 feet above the sea. Though many peaks among the Hithaeglir rose steeper and higher, none stood so alone or so impressive, nor any so welcome to eyes long upon the sea.

When at last that peak seemed to fill all the sky, then came the cries of sea birds so numerous as to drown out the waves. They called out in greeting to the returning mariners as was their habit, and the men rejoiced in them and tossed aloft tidbits that they snatched while on the wing. Then far, far above, as specks before the sun, Helluin saw in the highest airs a trio of Eagles soaring, circling the summit of the Meneltarma, the eyes of Manwe from whom no deeds were hid. And by their presence more than anything else she knew this land was blessed.

At last _Entulessë_ rode up the Bay of Romenna to her homeport, and passing Tol Uinen, came at last to her berth. Great was the peoples' rejoicing to have their mariners safely returned. Greater still was their joy when Veantur's tidings were publicized throughout the land by the royal messengers. Yet before that news was generally known, the Captain-Admiral and his officers came to the city of Armenelos and to the Court of Tar-Elendil the king.

Indeed when word came of _Entulessë's_ return, the Lord of Númenor sent a carriage to the docks to fetch Veantur and his officers thither. In Romenna the team of six was exchanged at the king's stables, and then with fresh horses, _Entulessë's _officers, with Helluin among them, made the seventy-mile trip to Armenelos in haste. Into the evening of their landfall and through the night they rode, stopping only for food. In this way they came to the gates of the city with the dawn behind them.

In those days, though Armenelos was the capitol, wherein the citadel and Elros' Tower stood, the population was more evenly distributed than in later years. Thus, Romenna nearly rivaled Armenelos in size, while across the island, Andunie and Eldalondë stood upon the western shores with nearly equal populations. Nevertheless Armenelos was the place of the King's Court, site of Elros' Tower, and the home of Nimloth, the White Tree that had come to the Númenóreans out of Tol Eressea.

Now debarking from their carriage in the wide Court of the Gate within the Citadel of the King, Helluin first saw the White Tree, and in the dawn's light it bore a blush of rose upon its pale bark. But Nimloth's leaves were dark above and silver below, and save that no light shimmered from his boughs, the White Tree of Númenor grew in the likeness of Telperion of Aman. So struck was Helluin with this vision that she moved as one entranced, and straightaway came hence to Nimloth with tears in her eyes. So moved was she at this vision of the lost and revered past that she leaned her head against the trunk and closed her eyes. Then those who stood nigh witnessed a thing of great wonder, and perhaps it was a consequence of all the time Helluin had stood amidst the rains and dews of the Two Trees upon Ezellohar, but whether or how their light had changed her, none may know for sure.

Now as her concentration grew and her spirit went deep within, Helluin's hands upon the trunk began to glow with the radiance of the Mingling of the Lights of an Age lost long before. In moments that light quickened and came to envelope the whole of both tree and Elf. Then for a few moments, Nimloth, gift of the Eldar of Tol Eressea to Elros in the founding years of Númenor, glowed with the brilliance and majesty of Telperion, for by Yavanna's blessed hand both trees had come to be. There in the Court of the King, for a brief time, a vision of the Elder Days and the Glory of Valinor lived again. And then it faded just as quickly, as if it were a dream or a mirage, or a phantasm dispersing.

Helluin withdrew her hands and stood back from the trunk, silent, unmoving, and long she seemed oblivious to the waking world. Yet after a while she shook herself and looked about her. For a few blessed moments she had stood again 'neath the rain of the Mingled Lights, and for that time she had been outside herself. Yet unlike those past times when she had felt herself borne up on wings, and as if with an eagle's sight looked down upon Arda complete, this time she had remembered many things of days past and many things she had seen of days to come. Never before had such visions come to her, for they had always been of space, not of time, and she was disoriented upon waking.

When the strangeness passed she resumed her place with the officers and the men of the Court. Around her all regarded her with awe and some confusion, but coming to her in concern, Veantur wrapped her in his arms and asked after her wellbeing.

"In moments strange, many things did I see, my Captain," Helluin told him, "and among these a warning to thee and all thy people. The welfare of Númenor and the Men of the West is bound up with the fate of Nimloth somehow. In days long ahead both shalt fail yet both shalt survive, and both live after diminished by the days…a quick twilight and a long nightfall."

Veantur gulped at Helluin's prophecy, for it could be nothing less. The tree stood now in vigor and had grown in the Court of the King for over 550 years. It was now a great tree, fragrant of blossom in the evening, and shedding not its old leaves for new through winter's chill 'till spring. All revered it as a symbol of the honor in which Men held the Eldar and the Powers Undying. That any would endanger it was inconceivable to him. As if reading his thought, Helluin spoke to him again in a whisper.

"Not the cause but the effect shalt the tree reflect. As a gauge of the health of Númenor's spirit shalt the health of Nimloth be," she told him.

As the group began to move toward the doors of the King's Halls, Veantur filed Helluin's words away for later contemplation. Not only was he astonished at her display of power, for she had never claimed any such before, but her words bespoke some doom for his people. This was of paramount seriousness to him, and as a loyal liege of his king, sooner or later the prophecy would have to be told. While he thought on these things the company passed through the King's Doors and were announced to the hall.

Now the Hall of the King in Armenelos, ere the Whelming of Númenor, was such that the later halls of the Men of the West were patterned upon it in reverent memorial. Indeed its plan was reborn in Minas Anor and in Osgiliath, and in Annuminas before its ruin. A lofty ceiling, arched and vaulted, stood far above, supported by the external walls and rows of shapely columns along either side within. These columns formed side galleries, leaving the half-width of the hall open down its center. Invariably the hall was three times its width in length and one half its length in height. The rear wall opposite the great doors was formed into a semi-circular apse whose floor rose in a dais of three ascending steps to the throne. Piercing the outer walls between the columns were placed tall arched windows, glazed with opal glass, and most often, in the spaces framed by the columns and backlit by the windows were placed memorial portrait figures.

The form of the hall as a whole was a load bearing device, an arch that spread and supported the weight of the tower that rose above it. In form, the tower was a tapered cylinder, usually strengthened by external ribs, and pierced by many windows for observation. Such towers typically rose between one and two hundred fathoms above the roof of the hall, which itself might be twenty to thirty fathoms in height, placing an observer atop the tower up to 1,380 feet above the ground. It was also very common for these buildings to be placed atop natural heights; the citadel of Armenelos, for example, rose from an outlying mound at the base of the Meneltarma that stood 1,100 feet high.

Helluin was impressed with the workmanship and the design. It was less delicate and decorative than the Elven towers she had seen…Mindon Eldalieva, the Tower of Ingwe, in Tirion upon the hill of Tuna, and Turgon's Tower in Gondolin upon Amon Gwareth which had been built in Tirion's memory came foremost to her mind. The Tower of Armenelos was nothing if robust. Helluin judged the Númenórean architecture fitting to the spirit of Men. With the others she paced the hall, seeing that the high throne at its end had been abandoned by the tall man descending the steps of the dais to greet them on equal footing as they approached.

So the blood of that line breeds true, she thought in amazement, for had she not known of his passing, Helluin would have guessed herself in the presence of Elros, so like to him in appearance was his great grandson, Tar-Elendil. She had last seen Elros in Beleriand at the age of 58, though he had been of Elven kind then and considered but a youth, whereas the king was 240 years of age and in his prime middle years. Indeed he could expect to live to the age of 400 or more, for such was the span granted to the Men of Númenor in the morning time of their realm. Here before her stood a mortal Man, a hand's width above two fathoms tall, with the wiry build of a warrior or mariner used to hard toil, dark of hair and grey of eye, and like his forebears, very handsome of face. That face was lit with intelligence, goodwill, and humor.

The king greeted his captain and the officers by name, clasping forearms with them in the manner she remembered among the warriors of the Edain of Beleriand. He met them with respect and showed no haughtiness of manner. She could see the love the mariners bore for their sovereign in return. His conduct reminded her much of Tuor, noble and confident, yet without a shred of condescension. The recollection brought a smile to her lips.

"My Lord, may I present Helluin of the Noldor, also called Maeg-mormenel," Veantur announced in introduction, directing her forward with a hand placed gently at the small of her back. It was a subtle gesture of intimacy that did not go unnoticed by the king, who favored his Captain-Admiral with a smile.

Helluin bowed her head and then extended her arm expecting to share the same grasp of welcome that the king had given his men. Instead, Tar-Elendil lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss upon her knuckles in a gallant gesture that Helluin found both light-hearted and charming. She favored the king with a smile that was returned with honest goodwill and respect.

"Hail and well met, Helluin of the Noldor," the king said in greeting, "in the lore of my family much honor is given to the Noldo of the Blue Fire Eyes. But for thy aid during the sack of Avernien, perhaps none of us would stand here this day. I feel that I walk within a tale of the Elder Days, yet in no tale is thy beauty truly remarked. I offer the welcome of the Men of Westernesse and the thanks of our realm. Never did I think that in going east my Captain would discover such a treasure out of the West. He is in fortune blessed." He concluded his welcome with a smile and winked at Veantur.

Had she been a couple thousand years younger, the king's words would have brought a blush to her cheeks. Instead she replied, giving as good as she got.

"My Lord, thou art most gracious. Indeed it gladdens my heart to see the flowering of the labors young Elros undertook what seems but a short time ago. At Avernien I was repaying a debt to thy house for the valor of the brethren Huor and Hurin on behalf of my lord, Turgon of Gondolin. Tuor and Idril made such a lovely couple, while I had no love of the House of Feanor. I could do no less." With a smile she added, "Had I foreseen the wealth of comely offspring from their union I would hath done yet more."

The king laughed openly at her words while Veantur chuckled, "Elves are never to old to flirt and we shalt never be old enough to match them. I am indeed blessed."

That blessing was shared by Veantur and Helluin for many years. For the next twenty decades they sailed in the King's Ships together, sharing in adventure and the opening years of the Númenóreans' voyages of aid to the Men of Middle Earth. Landings they made in Belfalas and Mithlond on behalf of the king. But dearest to their hearts were the great voyages of discovery undertaken by the mariners of Westernesse. In the morning time of their realm, curiosity of spirit guided them and they became the greatest of the mariners of Middle Earth. Ships of Númenor sailed the coasts of Belegaer, landing at many places, save that they were banned from landfalls on the shores of the Undying Lands. Instead they sailed east.

In S.A. 641 Helluin and Veantur sailed southeast, and crossing the Girdle of Arda, made the first landfall upon the Southern Continent. There they found birds and beasts wondrous and strange. They saw great cats stalking upon endless savannas east of the Grey Mountains, and further south, in deep forests dark under their trees, dwelt creatures that were not yet Men but aspired to be.

On subsequent voyages they hopped the coast of that land, ever seeking new sights, and came beyond the southernmost cape of the Hither Lands. They made their way, ever intrepid, sailing into the Inner Sea upon whose waves no boat had ridden. Through oppressive heats they made their courses far from home and under strange skies where the familiar stars stood in positions before unseen. Years they were gone and many feared them lost, yet they were blessed it seemed, and ever they returned home.

Upon the eastern coast of the Inner Sea they discovered _I-Móreanór_, the Dark Land, cloaked in forests of unfamiliar trees and previously unknown and unsuspected by any. Up the west coast of that landmass they sailed, finally reaching its northern tip, and then through the straight that separates that land from the furthest east of the Hither Lands they knew. Thence even to landfalls in Hildorien did they come, where the Younger Children of Iluvatar had first arisen.

In that land they met Men so backward and primitive that the Númenóreans stood in awe at how far their kindred had come through their association with the West. Tools of flaked stone only did those natives use. The reliable making of fire they had not, and the writing of letters was unknown to them. Neither did they cultivate crops nor husband beasts, but slew what they could with sharpened poles and gathered for sustenance aught else they found. They feared the night, storms, and death, and from the ships of the Men of Númenor they fled in terror. And Helluin, looking into their hearts, perceived that the shadow of old lay deep upon them and it had never been understood nor relieved.

At their furthest, the ships of Veantur and Helluin crossed the East Sea and came even to the Easternmost Lands and there they looked upon the Walls of the Sun. They made but one landfall and quickly retreated to their ships, driven thither by the heat. Yet along that coast they sailed, indeed all the way to the Nether Dark that lies abreast Ekkaia, the Encircling Sea that is the boundary of Arda itself. Then, finding no further shores to discover, and having proven the measure of Creation that no ban restricted them from, they turned their ships about and headed for home.

Upon the way thither, back northwards up the coast past the Walls of the Sun, there came the Equinox of Spring when Arien lofts the Vessel of Anar skywards upon the very Girdle of Arda that passes too in the west through Taniquetil in Aman. Then from the dark of night directly above the flotilla of Númenor, blinding rose the morning overhead, so close that though the Men had to turn away lest their eyes be burnt sightless, Helluin saw even the fair countenance of the Maia of the Sun. She shone in the brilliance of gold, like unto, yet more concentrated than Laurelin at the noontime of Valinor, and Helluin, who had aforetime stood in the rain of that light, now stood again bathed in that radiance, her own eyes blazing with blue fire in greeting.

Upon the ships, Men saw steam boiling up from the waters all about, but Arien was rising ever higher and further away. Moment by moment the stifling heats and light that had sought to cook their organs within them quickly abated to the tropical levels of bearable discomfort to which they'd become accustomed. Yet afterwards the mariners marked the scorching of their sailcloth and the darkening of the lines in their rigging, and even the tanning of their skin. In amazement they dared look skyward at last. There rose Anar to the first hour of the morning, and they knew that they had experienced a great wonder of the world that by the grace and power of the Valar had come to be.

The flotilla returned to Romenna in S.A. 698 with great revelations and much lore, for they had been twelve years away upon the sea. Many were the charts and scrolls that enriched the libraries of the people, and tales of their discoveries in the furthest of lands were told far and wide. In those days many of the Men of Númenor went aboard ships seeking adventure, and many of these came to the Men of Middle Earth as teachers and helpers, and so the lot of those in the Hither Lands stood improved.

But Helluin and Veantur came home also to visit with the young woman they had again left behind at court in Armenelos, and this was their daughter, Almarian. She had been born in S.A. 661, during a stretch of nine years ashore. She was tall and dark of hair as were her mother and father, but with bright blue eyes rather than the gray of most of the Númenóreans. From her first days she had displayed a keen intelligence and the curiosity of her parents, and she seemed to mature but slowly for she was touched by the Life of the Eldar though she was a mortal woman. In later years she became well known among the people of Westernesse, a great beauty marked for her wisdom and strength of spirit.

In giving birth to Almarian, Helluin had felt a part of herself bequeathed to her mortal offspring, a fraction of the power or substance of her _fea_ that could not be replaced. Most of Elven kind would have been diminished, perhaps even so far as to fall from their natal doom and everlasting life. Yet for Helluin this was not so. Perhaps it was the Light of the Trees in which she had so often stood that preserved her. Perhaps somewhat of the virtue of Laurelin and Telperion had been transferred to her as she stood 'neath their falling dews. But like all blessings, this blessing too was mixed, of both good and ill it partook, though it would be Ages ere the downside made its effects known.

Now when Veantur and Helluin returned to Armenelos, they found that Almarian was preparing to marry, and they rejoiced that they had returned home in time to partake of the ceremony, for a great occasion it was to be in their land. Almarian was in her 37th year when she wedded Irimon, third child of the king. All the people of Númenor celebrated on that day, for Irimon was Tar-Elendil's only son, and by the laws of the land then in effect, he was the King's Heir. Over the next 31 years, Almarian bore three children to Irimon, a son and two younger daughters, grandchildren whom Veantur and Helluin loved dearly. It was in S.A.740, when Tar-Elendil laid down the scepter of his rule, that Irimon ascended the throne of Númenor as Tar-Meneldur, with Almarian as his queen.

"For my people thou hath shed blood in war and gifted blood in peace," Tar-Elendil had said to Helluin in S.A. 700 when Almarian gave birth to his first grandchild, a son and heir to the throne who was named Anardil, "and with both deeds, hath my people been blessed. Indeed I know not which I value the higher."

And Helluin recalled their first words together in her reply to her dear friend the king.

"In hope to increase the comely offspring of the Edain hath I finally done more."

Now of Almarian's three children, Anardil took the scepter of Númenor in S.A. 883 as Tar-Aldarion, and he ruled until S.A. 1075. He was a man enamoured of the sea, more comfortable aboard ship than land, and very nearly obsessed with sailing. If anything, he was even more compulsive than Veantur, but his focus was given to his alliance with the Elven King in Lindon rather than purely to discovery, as had his grandfather the Captain Admiral. He built a haven at Vinyalonde, on the coast of Eriador at the mouth of the River Gwathir, as the Númenóreans then called the Glanduin, and there logged timber amidst the forests at an ever-increasing rate and from it, built many ships. At home, Tar-Aldarion had no son, but rather a single daughter from his stormy and ill-fated marriage to Erendis, and so for the first time, Númenor would have a ruling queen, Tar-Ancalime.

(**Glanduin, **_Border River_ was the old name for the River Gwathlo, the River Greyflood, Agathurush in Adunaic, first called Gwathir, the River of Shadow, by the Númenóreans.)

Of Almarian and Tar-Meneldur's two daughters little is known, but Ailinel, the older daughter, was born in S.A. 712 and married Orchaldor, son of Hatholdir, a counselor of the king. Almiel, born in S.A. 729, married Numandil, grandson of Valandil, the first Lord of Andunie. Of that line came a strain, primarily seen in women of the houses of the Faithful, who bore the black hair and blue eyes of their foremother, Helluin of the Noldor, for like the line of Elros, that line too bred true. Over 2,500 years later, in the ships of the House of Elendil did some of that line escape the Whelming of Númenor, to come as refugees to the shores of Middle Earth. And thence through the Ages of Arda, even unto the Fourth Age of the world and beyond, still persist some in whose veins runs the bloodline that came of Cuivienen in the Age of the Stars.

Many were the voyages of Veantur and Helluin upon the seas of Middle Earth, and many adventures of discovery did they share. But in 827, Veantur gave up his post, and his son-in-law, King Tar-Meneldur appointed a new Captain Admiral. Then for a time, Helluin and Veantur sailed still on their own behalf, and when even those days were done, still they met with mariners at the Inn of the West Wind in Romenna. Often too they traveled to Eldalondë and Andunie in the west, and there they met with visitors of the Eldar kindred coming from Tol Eressea in the West. These were Noldor of Beleriand mostly and some Sindar; indeed some were friends Helluin had known ere the War of Wrath. Bittersweet were those meetings to Helluin, for they brought back memories of the suffering of her people through many wars and her helplessness as she stood watching the House of Feanor burning the stolen Teleri ships and stranding her friends upon the Helcaraxe. Yet some news came to her through them of Valinor and of Tirion. Her parents still lived, as did her sister Elvearil. She sent word to them through Tol Eressea, but before any reply came in return she had quit the land of Númenor.

In S.A. 992, after an unprecedented lifespan of 465 years, Veantur's spirit finally left the mortal world and ventured beyond the fences of Arda, into realms none know and where no Eldar can follow. To Helluin their time together seemed short in hindsight, yet while it had lasted it had been sweet and she had no regrets. In all her days, no other had joined her so closely in spirit nor reveled in the joy of exploration and discovery in a way so akin to her heart.

"As on that day aboard _Entulessë_, my spirit hast cloven to thine all the days of my life, and still thy spirit I cherish," Veantur said as he felt his strength wane. "And beyond the Circles of Arda, into whatever place go the spirits of Men, the memory of thee shalt I hold dearest in my heart. With thee, in sweetness I hath passed all the days of my life."

And Helluin, looking into the eyes of the Man whom she had loved more than any other upon Arda said, "With thee hath I explored the world of Arda without and the worlds of the heart within. With many could I hath journeyed the former; but with thee only hath I journeyed the latter. Until world's ending shalt I carry the memory of thee in my heart, my Captain, for in sweetness hath I passed all our days together."

Upon Veantur's face a smile broke as a ship's standard in a fair wind upon the sea, and with a last sighing breath he released his spirit and at last lay still. Then those who also waited, Almarian and Tar-Meneldur, Ailinel their elder daughter, and Almiel and her husband Numandil, and many captains and lords of Númenor wept for the passing of their Captain-Admiral. And the tears of Helluin the Noldo fell upon the coverlet under which Veantur lay, and like the dews of Telperion, they glowed with a silver light. Yet more of her _fea_ she had sacrificed, in her tears, and in the lengthening of Veantur's days.

Now when Veantur had been laid in the tomb of his family in Romenna, Helluin took herself west across the land, and coming to Eldalondë, she met there a ship of the Eldar. Then she took ship with the mariners of the Lonely Isle and set sail for Middle Earth, for her time in Númenor had ended. The white ship with it's silver sails slipped like a ghost across the waves, and coming to the Hither Shores, sailed up the long Firth of Lune. Then to the havens of Mithlond Helluin came, and there she bade the sailors thanks for their favor. Then, since they would set no foot again upon Mortal Lands, she went ashore alone. It was 16 Narbeleth, (October 16th), S.A. 992, and much had changed in her absence.

To Be Continued


	13. In An Age Before Chapter 13

**In An Age Before - Part 13**

_Lucky Chapter 13, LOL, dedicated to Cailen, my lone reviewing reader. Hey C, at this rate you'll have the whole story dedicated to ya! ;-)

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**Chapter Eleven**

_**Eregion, 'nigh the Hithaeglir, Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Almost a thousand years later the lands of Eriador were still as green as she remembered them, rolling easily between the Ered Luin in the west and the Hithaeglir to the east. _The hills and valleys are older, yes, but they've retained their character_, Helluin thought as she walked along an east-west track that led from _Sarn Athrad_**¹**, the ford crossing the River Baranduin. She was traveling east, some twenty leagues south of an arc of downs that lay near the center of that country, and she was making for a place called Ost-In Edhil, in the land of Eregion that the locals called Hollin. She was not overly happy to be going.

**¹**(**Sarn Athrad, _Crossing of Stone,_** the Ford of Baranduin, later **Sarn Ford**. It had the same name as the First Age crossing of the Dwarf Road over Gelion, just north of the Ascar, in Eastern Beleriand. Sindarin)

_Another insipid name_, she chuckled derisively, for _Ost-In-Edhil_ translated as _City of the Elves_, and unless it was the home of Dwarves or Men, was a label so predictable as to be unnecessary. _Why even bother if that's the best they can come up with_, she wondered? Her eyes had actually blinked on their own when Gil-galad had named it, stating that it was thither that many other of the Noldor and Sindar had removed. Indeed Helluin had noticed many absent faces in Lindon, in particular, Celeborn and Galadriel.

The news had been little troublesome to her until the High King had subsequently mentioned that also taking that road had been Celebrimbor, son of Curufin…son of Feanor. Helluin's suspicions had immediately risen by reflex. Never in all the days of Arda would she trust one of that house…and Celebrimbor was the last that she knew of. Though he alone of them all had divorced himself from the oath of his fathers, so far as she was concerned they were all cursed, all bore bad blood just waiting to out.

_Celebrimbor was probably even responsible for the name, Ost-In-Edhil_, she thought petulantly. It was an uncharitable sentiment, but Helluin was less than objective despite the fact that Celebrimbor hadn't even been born until after the Noldor had reached Beleriand, and she hadn't known him there during the First Age for she had never come to Nargothrond. Instead, she remembered him from Lindon during the first days of the Second Age, grasping at nobility, yet ingratiating and scheming, with smallish wheels revolving under the thin bones of his skull. He had been deft of hand, she recalled, skilled in craft as were his forebears, but she thought him more suited as a pickpocket than a master craftsman. He had blindly sought after esoteric knowledge without giving a thought for wisdom. Such was her appraisal, and she was blind to her prejudice.

At first Helluin had hoped that the wilderness of Eregion would be a good place for Celebrimbor to lose himself and do no harm. That Celeborn and Galadriel had gone with him was mildly troublesome, yet she was confident that they could take care of themselves. But then Gil-galad had revealed that they'd located their new city 95 miles downstream upon Sirannon, the Gate Stream that flowed from the West Gate of Khazad-dum! Helluin immediately recognized that the situation had all the makings of a disaster, knowing the avariciousness of the House of Feanor, the wealth of the Dwarves, and the lack of humor of both. She guessed that the outcome of such a conflict would be very bad for the Noldor, recalling the stock of arms in the Dwarrowdelf and the haughtiness of their lords, not to mention the sheer numbers of their soldiery. And the Elves had no idea of what they would be getting into. None of the Eldar had entered those mansions save she herself, but of old, many of the Noldor had entertained derision if not outright enmity towards the Naugrim. Most of the Sindar still bitterly recalled the sack of Menegroth and the killing of Elu Thingol. Celeborn had been a Prince of Doriath and Elwe his Lord and kinsman. Oh yes, she thought, the future could get very bad.

And there had been more; Gil-galad had bid her watch the lands as she traveled for signs of a growing evil. Hints and rumors of a dark power in the east had come to him across Eriador. Indeed those rumors had their source beyond the Hithaeglir, and so they were uncertain to him, yet troublesome still. He had looked at her and said that, _since she was going that direction anyway, perhaps she could look into the state of…things_? Well, young scamp that he was to her, he was still the High King of the Noldor.

"Thy wish is my command," she had said with a sigh.

"Have a care on thy journey," Gil-galad had said, "and be ye ware of the Enedwaith."

Helluin had looked askance at him for that warning. The barbarians of southern Eriador she had heard increasing tell of in Númenor. It seemed they were now the unfriends of the Dúnedain in response to the habitat destruction resulting from Aldarion's rampant timber cutting. And they had ever feared and hated the Eldar. Still, they would never see her unless she wished it so.

So Helluin had started out for Ost-In-Edhil though the name still caused her to wince. She intended to find out just what was going on there and perhaps head off a bloody misunderstanding. The Noldor were her people, her kith and kin. At the same time, she hoped to meet again with the Lords of Khazad-dum, though she had her doubts as to whether anyone she'd known still survived. It had been 861 years since she had first come to Hadhodrond, but she still considered Durin's Folk her allies and friends. If a dispute started, her loyalties would be painfully divided. Without conscious thought, the whirlwind of threatening feelings in her heart caused her to quicken her pace.

Even so the walk took Helluin well over a fortnight, during which time she worried and muttered to herself about getting a horse. Between the Ford of Baranduin and the Ford of the Glanduin on the South Road lay 178 miles, and from the confluence of the Mitheithel and Glanduin, skirting south of Nin-In-Eliph to Ost-In-Edhil upon the Sirannon ran another 78 miles. The determined Helluin averaged 30 miles a day crossing Eriador. It didn't help her mood to be traveling in the cold of Girithron, (December), or that she needed a new pair of boots.

It was a cold, tired, and irritable Helluin who came to the gates of Ost-In-Edhil in the early afternoon of 7 Girithron, S.A. 992. She found there an unremarkable gate of iron, a merely serviceable palisade of stone, and an atmosphere of wariness. The sentries questioned her much until her patience wore thin and she challenged them to call upon Celeborn or Galadriel to vouch for her. The sentries were taken aback for a moment, but then recovered their officiousness and asked after her business. With a groan, Helluin had lifted a foot and displayed the condition of her boots. _Shopping for new shoes has brought me hither seeking the commerce of the city_, she had claimed. Upon being admitted she immediately went in search of a cobbler.

"Thou wants these in black, I wager," the cobbler actually said with a straight face.

"If it would not be too much trouble," Helluin retorted, "my pink ones clashed in spirit with my dress." Aside from her cloak of subdued greens, everything she was wearing was black and had been for millennia.

"Of course," the cobbler said, giving her a long look as if for the first time. "What style?" He asked next, also sounding serious. Helluin could only stare at him.

"I believe I had mentioned that they were to replace the ones I came in with," Helluin said at last, trying to restrain her sarcasm, "just use the old to pattern the new if thou please."

"Ahhh, good idea," the cobbler said, taking her old boots and looking them over before setting to work. "Make thyself comfortable; this shalt take a couple hours."

_What's he planning to make them out of_, Helluin wondered, _paper?_ No one could build a pair of boots in two hours. She slipped on a pair of camp slippers and stood back up.

"I am going across the lane to the inn," she told him, "I shalt return after I hath lunched."

The cobbler only nodded to her as she left. Already he was checking some dyed stock against the lasts for her size before making some adjustments to the rough-cut pieces and beginning the stitching. What she wanted was so basic and simple that he doubted it would even take him the whole two hours. Perhaps he would add some fur trim or beads.

Across the lane Helluin found a small table near the rear of the common room and took a seat with her back to the wall. Around her a few Noldor and Sindar sat in small groups, eating, or slaking their thirst with wine and ale. Helluin ordered a hearty lunch of bread and stew and a mug of cider, and when it arrived, she dug in with relish. As she ate, she listened to the conversations flowing around her. The words of three Noldorin craftsmen quickly drew her attention.

"…and what of that nest of Dwarves in yonder cave? Surely there art gems amidst the mountains," one diner said to his fellows. "We should employ them as miners' guides."

"Aye, there's wealth of metals for the finding too, I'd wager," a second one guessed. "'Tis a wide land and indeed gleanings of gold hath been panned already from Sirannon."

"Celebrimbor hast already fabricated some moonstones," a third revealed, "and our craft is enriched by his efforts. He claims we should take a more forward stance with the Dwarves if we want to better out lot. I should listen, for he founded the Guild."

"And the Guild is pushing Celeborn to open negotiations with the Naugrim," the first said, "but he is resistant, always citing patience and prudence. Perhaps 'tis rather that he is weak of will where they art concerned, after the Sack of Doriath."

Helluin choked back her anger at that remark and remained silent. Celeborn had heard her own words concerning Khazad-dum when she'd first come to Lindon with Veantur almost 400 years before, and he knew far more about the Naugrim than these fools.

"One would think he'd bear them no love, accounting the past history between his folk and theirs," the second said, "I'm surprised he shows those stunted creatures any patience at all."

"Some say 'tis Galadriel who makes up his mind," the third said with a chuckle. "At least she wields no power o'er Celebrimbor."

"I say 'tis the craft of the Guild that will raise this realm," the first declared, "and that through the efforts of Celebrimbor we shalt gain renown. The Jewel Smiths art the heart of Ost-In-Edhil, but our craft needs material to create works more wondrous yet."

"All agree with that," the second said. "The Guild needs ores, and where art those to be found if not 'neath the Hithaeglir?"

Helluin weighed their words. In them she heard the seeds of all the troubles she'd foreseen, the lusting after the resources that the Dwarves had long claimed, the avarice of the Noldor, and the scheming of Celebrimbor. Added to that was an undermining of the power of Celeborn and Galadriel among the influential craftsmen. And yes, she had heard the prevailing derogatory attitude towards the Naugrim. It seemed that her work was cut out for her. _So_, Helluin thought, _they art fabricating moonstones…._

Across the lane she'd collected her boots. To her surprise they were better than she'd dared hope. Not only were they a fine fit, but the leather was supple and the soles thick. She had been back early, expecting to wait, but the cobbler had already been finished and was standing there looking over his work. A box of fur scraps had been close at hand and a dish of bright enameled beads as well. Helluin had eyed them suspiciously, gaining the impression that her return had been timely indeed. She'd put on the boots, smiled at the cobbler and handed him his fee, and then quickly left.

Her next stop was a visit to the ruling house of Ost-In-Edhil, the Halls of Celeborn and Galadriel. It wasn't hard to find. She simply looked for the tallest tower. _That would be Galadriel's bit of whimsy_, she thought, _Celeborn would have been happier in deep-delved mansions recalling his old home in Menegroth_. On her way thither she passed another grand edifice. This one was massive rather than tall, with an ornate façade carved of hard black stone and gilded doors of intricately wrought iron. Embedded in the posts to either side of the entrance were great red cabochons that glowed weakly with a ruby light. _Gwanin-I-Mirdain_, she read on the lintel, the Brotherhood, (or Guild), of Jewel Smiths.

Claiming she was on an errand for the High King gained her admittance forthwith, and immediate access to the Lord and Lady. She found Celeborn and Galadriel in their study, deep in a troubled conversation. When she was announced and had entered, both looked at her with almost comical relief. Helluin looked back with a questioning expression.

"Well met, Helluin," Celeborn said as he rose and gave her a quick nod in greeting. "We endure in an increasingly unsettled situation and thy coming is well timed."

"Indeed so," Galadriel added, "I cannot recall ever being happier to see thee."

Helluin flashed her a sour smile and turned to Celeborn as she joined them at their table.

"I hath just come from a cobbler," she announced, glancing down at her new boots and reveling in the confusion her words wrought on their faces, "and I hath heard troubling words at an inn."

Celeborn raised his eyebrows, prompting her with his expression to continue.

"I hath heard that the Guild of Jewel Smiths pressures thee to parlay for trade with the Naugrim of Khazad-dum, indeed hoping of obtain of them ores for their crafting. They perceive thy hesitation as weakness of resolve and they art enamoured of Celebrimbor," Helluin said. She had been ticking off the points on her fingers as she spoke, then added, "Oh yes, and they regard the Naugrim with derision. Very dangerous of them."

"Well, that about covers it," Galadriel groaned, then asked, "how long hath thou been in Ost-In-Edhil, and how dearly bought were thy tidings?"

Helluin thought a moment and replied, "I came to thy gates not quite three hours past and learned all from three Guildsmen over lunch as I ate."

"And let me guess then that the Guildsmen also bought thee lunch and paid for thy boots," Galadriel said snappishly.

Helluin stared at her with an expression of irritation until she apologized. "Thy pardon, Helluin, but great effort it hast taken us to keep abreast of events as they de-evolve here 'bouts. Celebrimbor unceasingly agitates unrest through the Guild, which he hast created to further his own influence amongst the people. Many hath come to perceive him as a visionary. See thou, the founding of Ost-In-Edhil was originally his idea…a city of smiths." She nodded to reinforce her statement when Helluin looked at her with disbelief. "We decided to come along for our own reasons, but with us here, he was forced to leave the leadership to us because of our old status as nobles. Indeed the Sindar look to Celeborn as the right lord of Ost-In-Edhil and they trust not in the House of Feanor, but a large company of them under Oropher went thither recently over the Hithaeglir, hence our support is lessened. Many Noldor distrust the House of Feanor as well, recalling the curse. It hast been frustrating for Celebrimbor and he chaffs."

Helluin pondered Galadriel's words. Galadriel, she suspected, had come hither to be closer to the forest of mellyrn with its enchanted stream that she herself had hinted of long before in jest, while Celeborn was merely present to accompany her. As for the rest, Helluin was all too ready to believe that Celebrimbor was scheming to found and rule a realm of his own; she was only surprised that he'd shown such initiative in coaxing so many hither from Lindon and Mithlond.

Helluin asked, "How came Celebrimbor to choose Eregion for the site of his city of craftsmen? He could more easily have colonized the Ered Luin, for it lies far closer to Lindon. The Naugrim of Belegost and Nogrod mined there for an Age, yet now those mansions stand empty and the land uncontested. Why came he hither, so close 'nigh Khazad-dum?"

Here Celeborn and Galadriel traded uncomfortable looks, almost sheepish. Helluin was immediately suspicious and sat drumming her fingertips on the tabletop, looking back and forth between the two and waiting for their explanation. Finally Celeborn began.

"At the feast that Gil-galad gave when the Men of Númenor first came to Lindon, many tales were shared." Helluin nodded, remembering the hours of conversations that had flowed with the food and drink and she suspected what would be revealed next. Sure enough, she wasn't disappointed. Celeborn continued, "Thy own words concerning the realm of Khazad-dum spread far beyond the high king's halls, so wondrous were thy revelations to our ears. Now amongst those who harkened was Celebrimbor, and most of all to those tidings concerning mithril. The possibilities he found in thy words inflamed him and he in turn inflamed others. Soon many of the craftsmen of Lindon desired to go thither for to try mining the lodes of Hithaeglir, and not for mithril only, but in hopes of discovering other precious metals and gems of the earth." Celeborn sighed and fell silent.

Helluin groaned. After a few moments Galadriel took up the story.

"Celebrimbor conceived that some day he would rule a great realm in Eriador whose wealth was based on the works of his craft. Make no mistake, Helluin, Celebrimbor is without a doubt the most gifted craftsman of his generation…certainly the most inspired of us here. Not since Feanor himself wrought his works in the Undying Lands hast one so proficient arisen amongst the Noldor. Indeed he seeks to eclipse all that hast been made by the hands of the Eldar in Middle Earth. Given the materials and the time, he may well do so. Yet I fear that in lust for the one he shalt lose the other and much else besides."

Helluin understood all that Celeborn and Galadriel had said. She had unwittingly lit the fire of obsession 'neath Celebrimbor's ambitions. With her tidings she had set in motion what had come to pass of late in Ost-In-Edhil. Feanor's grandson had embarked on a personal crusade to fashion works of surpassing subtlety, and would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. His single-minded compulsion could bring rebellion among the Eldar of Eregion and lead to war with the Gonnhirrim. It would be a disaster of the first degree.

861 years before, Helluin had walked the deep places of the Dwarvish realm and come to know their ways, their history, their language and the numbers of their company. In their tongue there were 143 different words for slaying or being slain, and yet another 27 for death in the abstract. It reported on a preoccupation with warfare and ferocity that was ingrained in their culture. She had seen their armories and the hoards of weapons, the axes, shields, masks, mail, and armor bright. And she had seen the companies and battalions drilling in their vast training halls where their shouts had shaken the roots of the mountains, for the army of the Host of Khazad-dum had stood at well 'nigh twenty thousands back then.

To allow Celebrimbor, whom Helluin was coming to think of as monomaniacal, to parlay with the Lords of Khazad-dum for a share of their wealth would be as setting a bull among beehives. She wasn't sure which party would outdo the other in willfulness and self-possession…which party would more easily justify their avarice with self-righteousness. Ever had the House of Feanor dealt condescendingly with the Naugrim of old, right from the first meetings of Caranthir in Thargelion. Ever had the Folk of Durin begrudged to any but kin what they called their own. Most likely any negotiation would quickly descend into contention ere the party's names were even fully announced.

To send Celeborn to treat with the Naugrim would scarce be any better. As a Prince of Doriath there was still bad blood between their kindreds. For Thingol, the King of the Sindar of Doriath, had been slain by the craftsmen of Nogrod in his own halls of Menegroth, for they lusted after the Nauglamir, a necklace made by the Dwarves for Finrod of Nargothrond, and the Silmaril which was mounted in it. In a cycle of retribution and retaliation, Menegroth had been sacked and the entire Host of Nogrod destroyed. The losses on both sides had been very great and were not to be forgotten. No, Celeborn would not be a fitting embassy to the Lords of Khazad-dum.

Last of the nobles of Ost-In-Edhil was Galadriel. She was the sister of Finrod, whom of all the Noldor the Dwarves had most befriended, for they had aided in the building of his halls of Nargothrond in Beleriand and he had paid them well. But Galadriel was also the wife of Celeborn and had long dwelt in Doriath. Her loyalties were solidly set with the Sindar though she was of the blood of the Noldor of the House of Finarfin. Another handicap had she that limited her in any capacity of negotiation. The Naugrim were unused to dealing with women as leaders and would not choose to do so save for some practical reason. Galadriel was neither a warrior nor skilled in the crafts of the hand and forge. The Dwarves didn't know her and no one they trusted had vouched for her worthiness. Though she was a Princess of her House, she would not be accorded the respect that Helluin had won with her sword and augmented with her generosity and fluency in their language. Indeed, none of the Elves of Ost-In-Edhil could have come to the Naugrim and been received with anything but suspicion and distrust.

Helluin realized that were any parlay to be initiated between the Elves and the Dwarves, it would indeed be she carrying their words. She was the only one known to both parties, trusted by their leaders, and having no personal interest to gain from the success of either save the avoidance of hostilities. One other fact she understood; the loyalties of Ost-In-Edhil were such that, from the moment of its conception, Celeborn and Galadriel had no place in it. Sooner or later they would be ousted and Celebrimbor would assume the leadership. It would be just a matter of time. She sighed.

"In my words of old did this dire state find its birth. Only rightly then with my words should it be amended. If thou would put thy trust in me for a time, then I shalt come before the Lords of Khazad-dum and plead thy case," Helluin offered. "More difficult I deem shalt be obtaining the same trust from Celebrimbor and his Guild. Yet I shalt go to them next and put forth my counsel."

Celeborn and Galadriel shared matching sighs of relief and they nodded their agreement that Helluin should go forward with her plan. They had reached much the same conclusions as she about their chances and had hoped against hope that through some grace she would appear. That she had, they took as a sign, an omen, and their spirits were lifted somewhat for it.

Over the last 150 years they had become comfortable in Ost-In-Edhil, but the prospect of becoming subjects under Celebrimbor sat upon their tongues like rancid goat butter. Yet having a share in the possible wealth the Guild could create if it could but win materials from the mountains was sweet indeed. They could build a strong and beautiful realm and perhaps reclaim some of the glory and majesty of Beleriand that had been brought low in the conflict with Morgoth, for Morgoth was gone and Middle Earth for the most part knew peace. Now after over 1,600 years, Galadriel could sense at last the possibility of achieving the desire that had first led her from the Undying Lands; a realm under her own rule whose renown would rival Tirion itself. Celeborn nursed the hope that his people, the Sindar, might raise a realm to rival Doriath, for his queen too had come from Aman, and though not of the Maiar like Melian, Galadriel had known the Light of the Two Trees. And last they thought, Helluin first set these deeds in motion, and it is only fitting that she should correct them.

The next day Helluin came to the Guild of Jewel Smiths and demanded audience with Celebrimbor, naming herself a representative from the ruling family. The grandson of Feanor received her in his chambers with obvious trepidation, for he could not refuse, and long into the evening they talked. On both sides of that conversation were many revelations, for each had misjudged the heart of the other. In the end they found common ground that satisfied both and might forge a better future for all.

"Know thou that among the Naugrim there is little trust and much misgiving, and this is indeed to the discredit of the Noldor and thy house in particular, even from the first days of the relations between Eldar and Gonnhirrim," Helluin had said. "Would that Caranthir had treated the people of Nogrod and Belegost with honor rather than disdain, for then our position would be much advanced by a history of good relations.

I shalt tell thee this, Son of Curufin," she continued, "that the Naugrim have great honor as well as great skill, but also long memory and undying hatred for their enemies. In Khazad-dum, which stood already a thousand years ere the Noldor came to Beleriand, there art mines and forges and craftsmen such as exist nowhere else save in the Blessed Realm itself. There also is mustered the greatest standing army of this Age. I alone hath walked those halls and seen their arms, and that over 850 years past. I hath no reason to believe they art not yet stronger now. And so I will tell thee that in no way would this city stand for even a season were a war to be fought between thee and they."

Helluin leaned forward to emphasize her next points, for she wanted no uncertainty about where she stood if she were to involve herself as a negotiator. Although she spoke with words, the impact of her thoughts came to him directly. Celebrimbor, already held spellbound by her intensity, sat as a frozen thrall before her, barely breathing as she stared him in the eyes. In her eyes burned the fire of the Blessed Realm which he had never seen, and with it came a power conferred to the true Calaquendi by the Light in which they had once lived. He himself had been born in Beleriand and had never set foot in Aman.

"Beyond this, the Folk of Durin I number among my allies, for in days long past I joined them and the Men of Rhovanion in battle against the Yrch of Hithaeglir. I number them also among my friends, for in honor did I enjoy their hospitality for twenty years. So know this; I will work to forge a league of friendship between thy people and theirs to the mutual profit of both, yet I will not be used for thy dishonest gain. If thou betray their trust and somehow survive their wrath, I shalt hunt thee and slay thee on their behalf as surely as I sit here with thee now, and that to regain my honor and theirs. With them I hath shared only friendship, but with the House of thy fathers, little but enmity."

She had released him from her power then and he had shaken himself to reclaim his tongue and his wits ere he spoke.

"Of the inheritance from my fathers, deed and oath alike hath I recanted, and counted myself no longer of that House even when yet I lived in Nargothrond. To the betterment of my skills and to bring great works into the world hath I dedicated myself, Helluin. I would treasure any league of friendship with the People of Durin such as thou could forge. No intent to dishonor thou or thy friends do I hold in my heart, but only the hope of celebrating together our skills. Among the Naugrim do I suspect live many of kindred spirit unto myself, devotees of Aule the Maker."

Helluin heard his words and measured his heart and found that he at least believed what he said. She then strongly "suggested" that he offer a gift to the Naugrim as a token of his good intentions.

"The best of the works you hath made so far will suffice," she had said. "For thou must seek to impress them with both the generosity of thy heart and the skill of thy hand."

Celebrimbor had gulped and then taken a pouch from a coffer, and with obvious regret handed it to her. She had opened the pouch for a peek and smiled. Even she had been impressed. Such a token would do very nicely indeed.

9 Girithron, S.A. 992. Helluin approached the West Gate of Khazad-dum upon the road that ran beside the Sirannon, much as she had long before with Gikli and Merk. She had removed her cloak and tucked it in the travel bag draped over her left shoulder so that her armor was clearly visible, but she had left off the hauberk. She saw that the gate was guarded by a company of two-dozen sentries, and behind them the massive portcullis was closed. As they spied Helluin around the curve, walking towards them between the hedges that flanked the road once it found the heights of the narrow valley above the Stair Falls, they came to attention and faced her in a wedge formation. Helluin halted a dozen paces away and addressed them in their own tongue.

"Hail and well met, guardians of Durin's Gate. I am Helluin of the Noldor, come again to Khazad-dum in peace, where once I walked in honor in the time of thy fathers long past. I pray thee ask of thy Lords if they will admit me, for I come with tidings and counsel regarding the city of the Eldar down yonder stream. Ask if they will converse with me, in honor of our alliance in battle in years gone by."

The lead sentry stood silent a moment, looking her up and down. Finally he spoke, wary still, but courteous.

"Surely thy time here was long ago, for it is many years since any but our kin walked these halls. Yet I see thee wearing the work of our hands, and some may know of thee, if they be wise in lore. Wait here please, while word is sent. Come, have a seat."

He directed her to a bench beside the portcullis while someone inside raised it enough that one of their number could pass within to bear the message thither. Helluin nodded and moved forward under the watchful eyes of the remaining sentries, taking the proffered place and laying her bag on the ground at her feet. The sentries went back to their post by the gate, though now they stood attentive rather than leaning on their axes at ease and chatting. After some moments the lead sentry came over to Helluin and took a seat on the bench beside her, laying his axe across his knees, but keeping a hand on the haft. He was curious about her, enough to ask of her past rather than be silenced by his distrust.

"Helluin of the Noldor thou art named," he said, "and though I have passed eighty-two years, I know thee not, nor any tale of thee. Yet indeed some novel tale is woven about thee, that is plain to see. I see thy armor and thou doth speak our tongue as a native. Never hath I been so surprised as to hear words in Khazdul from thy lips. Pray tell me, when did thou last come among us?"

"I was invited hither by the prospectors Gikli and Merk, whom I met 'nigh Mitheithel, 861 years ago," Helluin explained. The sentry's eyes bulged at the count of years she mentioned. "By their hospitality for a favor I had done them upon the road, I was admitted hither and spent twenty years as a guest within thy mansions. Much counsel did I share and many things did I learn, and shared too such skill as I had learned of the Maiar of Mahal in the Blessed Realm. In my years here I joined many expeditions prospecting for metals deep 'neath Durin's Halls and even a vein of mithril did I spy. In that time was my armor made."

The sentry's attention was fully focused on her now, for indeed she had a novel tale to tell. Most knew of the Barazinbar Spur, a vein of mithril ore discovered at the time she'd named that was still productive and led into the north, down deep 'neath Caradhras. His eyes tracked the supple movements of her forearm as she spoke, and how the black, scale-like plates upon her bracer moved, fluid as water. The accouterments of war were of interest to him.

"'Tis galvorn, or perhaps black steel?" The sentry guessed aloud. "No craftsman am I, yet I can see the excellence of the workmanship. The temper must be perfect for so little wear does it show. Surely 'tis the work of a master smith of old. Indeed, 'tis hard to believe thy armor hast passed o'er eight and a half centuries use; it appears unsullied, as it were made in the year just past."

He lifted his own gauntlet to show the wear on the plates about his wrist where the movements of his hand had worn the metal bright. Helluin looked at the years of slow abrasion from the lapping plates slipping against one another. She appraised the workmanship and smiled, recognizing the bluish sheen of the tempering upon it.

"Thy armor is of medium-grained steel, forged of mountain ore and hardened like dragon scales, then tempered and quenched in mineral oil from the shale of Nareed-dul-Nar 'neath Zirakzigil's Eighth Deep. It hast given thee thirty years service, I'd wager, and hast yet many more years left ere it need be replaced."

The sentry's eyes had been getting yet larger as he listened in admiration to her knowledgeable report. What he knew of fabrication in steel was incomplete but didn't refute anything she'd claimed. Helluin continued, holding up an arm.

"Thou detects no wear, for the master craftsman Gneiss son of Gnoss indeed made this work of metal refined from the lode I found. The rest came into the treasury of his family, long may they prosper, for I laid no claim upon it. Gneiss spent o'er a year in the making of this peerless armor, and the finest work did he do. Yet at first the plates and mail shone mirror bright, and I couldn't abide such attention as it would call, being a lone warrior afoot in the wilderland to the east. Hence I beseeched him to wash the metal with black galvorn as thou supposed, to hide its nature and to hide me as well."

The sentry nodded in understanding. There were battalions whose armor was blackened for fighting in the deep dark places within mountain caves, the strongholds of Glamhoth. He looked closely at the fine work of Helluin's armor, knowing it now for mithril and appreciating the value and rarity of it as well as its matchless protective qualities.

At that moment the portcullis rose and a pair of Dwarves in long robes came forth. They saw Helluin and moved to join her as she rose and the sentry snapped to his feet. He saluted them when they came near and one nodded to dismiss him back to his post.

"Helluin of the Noldor, the welcome of Durin III, Lord of Khazad-dum is extended to thee" the first robed Dwarf said, speaking the greeting in fluent Sindarin and bowing as was their custom. "I pray thee come hither that we may see to thy comfort ere our lords take counsel with thee. In years long past were thou a friend and ally, and we honor the league of friendship our fathers' fathers forged with thee to the benefit of all."

"Ever gracious art the Folk of Durin, and steadfast as friends in peace and in war," Helluin responded, making the courteous statements of praise expected on such an occasion. "None upon Middle Earth approach thy matchless craft, and indeed that craft hast preserved my very life. Many times hath I given thanks for the friendship of thy people and the work of thy hands." Here she bowed her head a moment and then followed the two Dwarves through the portcullis, up a stairway, through a long tunnel, and into the outermost western hall.

From there they continued on for about three hours, mostly in a straight line, on the same level and heading east. They came at last to the Twelfth Hall of the West End, 'neath Celebdil, and Helluin was shown to an apartment on the right side. This was in a populated area where many lesser craftsmen had their shops and many services were available. Most of the apartments in that hall were reserved for visitors from other realms of the Naugrim, but these had become few since the passing of Beleriand and the rooms stood for the most part empty. Indeed at that time, Helluin was the only guest.

"Please make thyself comfortable," the second robed Dwarf told her, "and shortly food and drink shalt be sent. On the morrow we shalt convey thee further east, for the way is too great to come there in one day. The Lord's advisors shalt meet with thee in the Sixth Hall on the Third Level."

"Ahh, that was the great hall of the hundred columns 'nigh the base of the Tower Stair," Helluin recalled. "I thank thee both for thy welcome and thy attention. Indeed some refreshment would be welcome."

"Thy memory serves thee true," the first robed Dwarf remarked. "Enjoy thy sup and thy rest. We shalt resume the way tomorrow. Many, I suspect, shalt come to hear thy tidings, for indeed the new city of the Eldar hast caused much concern."

Indeed it was so, for both concern regarding the Eldarin city and the presence of Helluin drew forth many to fill the Sixth Hall on the Third Level the next day. There Helluin stood before the advisors of the Lord of Khazad-dum and testified to all that had passed in the founding of Ost-In-Edhil. The Dwarves listened with great interest. The fact that among the Elven host lived a grandson of Feanor, the craftsman of greatest renown among his own people, whose works were known to the Naugrim, were tidings of remarkable potential. Just as they believed in the rebirth of their father, Durin, into the ruling family Age after Age, so too they believed that the inspiration and abilities of a great craftsman might again visit those of the same blood. In Celebrimbor, they saw perhaps the shadow of Feanor reborn. It was a point of view that Helluin had not predicted, but it aided the possibility of future cooperation and friendship that she sought, and she welcomed any advantage for whatever reason.

"'Tis said that Celebrimbor is the preeminent craftsman of his generation among the Noldor. The work of his hand is subtle and yet greater works are foreseen from his craft, for it is his intent to surpass all yet wrought by the Eldar in Middle Earth. In many arts is he skilled, yet of primary interest to him now is the fabrication of jewels. For that venture he has created a Guild of Jewel Smiths in Ost-In-Edhil, and hast had some success thus far. In this pursuit he indeed follows in the footsteps of his forebear, Curufinwe**¹**."

**¹**(**Curufinwe, **birth name of Feanor, Sil., Ch.6, pg.64)

Here Helluin reached into a pouch that hung from her waist and produced what she had literally browbeaten Celebrimbor to proffer in token of his goodwill. When she lifted her hand it held a moonstone, a thick oval cabochon the size of her own fist. Within its pale misty depths glowed a shifting ghostly light that recalled Ithil at the fullness of its cycle, reflected in the clear waters of the Kheled-zaram. The Gonnhirrim had been muttering about the fact that Celebrimbor was creating jewels, the very same enterprise that had given rise to the most famed of his grandfather's creations. It seemed a real possibility to them that the spirit of the maker of the Silmarils was come again as a master craftsman to his house. Helluin raised her hand and the hall fell silent. All eyes were fixed upon the stone it held. All hearts were turned thither in wonder and longing as the internal luminescence moved like a living thing trapped within the gem.

"Here does Celebrimbor make an offering of the craft of his hand to the Lord of thy realm, in token of friendship and goodwill between the peoples of Ost-In-Edhil and Khazad-dum. By the Guild of Jewel Smiths hath I been given leave to parlay and treat with thy Lord, in hope of forging a league of mutual benefit in future days to the profit of both our kindreds."

For a long time none spoke, and when the silence failed it was yet for a time but the whispering of the advisors together ere any announcement they made. Then the eldest of that counsel, Ghriml son of Ghramûn spoke for them all.

"Helluin Maeg-mormenel, in friendship hast thou come unto us again, and indeed with tidings fair and beyond our hopes. Of old thou did us honor in peace and in battle. From thy generosity of spirit hath many here prospered. Now again thou art come among us, offering possibilities for the enrichment of our realm. Were all the Eldar such as thou, great and deep would hath been the friendship between our kindreds. Alas that in the past such was not always the case, yet like all else in Arda, relationships change. We welcome this chance to amend the past and share in a bountiful future. This Counsel of Advisors shalt recommend to our Lord that he approach thy tidings with serious regard, and treat with thee for the mutual benefit of both our kindreds. As of old, we thank thee for thy tidings and thy friendship."

Two days later, Helluin came before the Lord of Khazad-dum, and over the next three days finalized a provisional trade agreement between the Guild of Jewel Smiths of Ost-In-Edhil and the Guild of Craftsmen of Hadhodrond. It was to be the model for a wider long term continuing partnership between the two kindreds, the first of its kind in Middle Earth not based on a contract with finite goals and a set price for services rendered.

When she left on 18 Girithron, after three days of celebratory feasting, it was with the satisfaction that she had enriched both the Noldor and the Naugrim and insured a peace in that time. It was a good thing, for since her last visit, Khazad-dum had become stronger in its arms and more numerous in its population. She had been right on both counts.

In addition, Helluin had visited the Guild of Craftsmen. There she was happy to find that the House of Gneiss had indeed prospered. She was welcomed by Grimis son of Gnolis, son of Gneiss, the current head of the household and a master craftsman like his ancestors. He gladly did Helluin the service of adjusting her armor for the added height she'd gained after drinking from Oldbark's stream in Greenwood. Indeed after thinking ahead, Helluin had him leave her a wee bit of "growing room".

Helluin's return to Ost-In-Edhil on the 21st was greeted with great rejoicing when her news was published. All the Eldar breathed a sigh of relief, for no longer was their future uncertain. They could look ahead to great accomplishments and vast potentials and the raising of a unique realm. Indeed nowhere else and at no other time did the Eldar and the Gonnhirrim come together in such league of trust and friendship. Celebrimbor was overjoyed at the possibilities that stood before him and swore anew to Helluin that in no way would he endanger the peace she had forged. Celeborn gave her thanks that she had succeeded for his people where he surely would have failed, and with Galadriel he enjoyed the continuation of their status of rulers for a time.

"Helluin, there is no thanks we can offer thee for what thou hast achieved," he told her quietly as they stood in his tower watching the people celebrate below in the streets. "Thou hast perpetuated our place as sovereigns and relieved the tensions between the Jewel Smiths and ourselves. Anything thou desires that is within my power to grant shalt be given but for the asking."

Helluin looked at the king and a smile curled her lips, for on her way back from Khazad-dum she had given thought to her near future.

"I think that for a while our interests would be best served if I were to remain in the area. To that end, thou may provide me with fair quarters in the city, a formal office of Embassy to the Naugrim, and a pair of boots each year that I serve the folk of Ost-In-Edhil. I like the work of thy cobblers and there is still much else to be done."

Almost immediately both the Eldar and the Dwarves formulated the specifics of their agreement. Indeed little involvement did Helluin find necessary, for to her great relief and happiness, Celebrimbor did indeed find among the Naugrim many of kindred spirit who revered Aule/Mahal and lived to better the works of their hands. In more general terms, the people of the two cities came to enjoy a deep trust and friendship. Both sides were on their best behavior and none dishonored the other. Still, Helluin kept an eye on them just to make sure, and acted as a mediator and counselor equally to both sides.

About thirty years later she was returning from yet another embassy to Khazad-dum. It was a warm summer afternoon. Helluin had taken a rest and was seated beside a pool upon the Sirannon. She idly skipped flat stones across the water's surface, her mind open and unpreoccupied with mundane official worries. Despite some continued petty friction between the Guild and the rulers of Ost-In-Edhil, all was going well, and of late she had entertained thoughts of wandering. A stone skipped once, twice, thrice, then cleared the far bank and ricocheted from a tree trunk. Astonishingly, it reversed its flight and actually skipped once upon the water's surface as though it was destined to return to her hand. Her eyes had tracked it and her mind froze on what she had seen. If only… In the next moment she was on her feet and hastening to Ost-In-Edhil seeking Celebrimbor.

Once again Helluin came to the Guild of Jewel Smiths demanding audience with Celebrimbor. This time she was received with genuine welcome rather than tense misgivings. There she challenged the son of Curufin to create something her mind could barely conceive, something that had never before been forged. Celebrimbor couldn't resist the challenge to his craft and was willing to work with Helluin, for he felt indebted to her. After all, an arrow once shot or a javelin once cast was hard to use twice.

Thus began the forging of the first ring, a ring unlike any that were made after; the only Elven Ring to be conceived from its genesis to be a weapon of war. The project consumed decades of work and countless trials, all of which were conducted in semi-secrecy as an ongoing private commission. The process of selecting the alloys and perfecting the tempering alone took nearly forty years. The meditation on how they would and whether they should had taken longer. Helluin and Celebrimbor each had many other duties and labors concurrently, but ever they resumed work on her project. In their enterprise they had much aid from the Guild of Craftsmen of Khazad-dum, and indeed most of the forging was done in its deep halls far from prying eyes.

"In the making of its form we now hath the mastery," Celebrimbor had claimed. He was standing beside his borrowed anvil deep in the smithy of Narvi, his oft-partner of late. Sweat from the forge's heat shined on his bare arms. He raised the circlet from the bed of coals and scrutinized it as it glowed, white hot in his tongs. Its incandescence lit their faces as they moved to encircle it, though the chamber remained largely in shadows. Up close it was so bright that it pained their eyes, forcing them to squint.

"But metal alone will not serve this cause," the Dwarf muttered grimly, turning his head and eyeing Helluin speculatively as she stood by. He wondered if she would have the commitment to enable the weapon that she had first suggested they make. A weapon to fly with a mind of its own would need to partake of the spirit of its intended wielder to accomplish the bond. Return to the hand of its maker, yes, he thought, but to fly with no loss of speed? Elvish magic it was, and he would believe it only when he saw it accomplished. "Let it not cool too quickly," he warned Celebrimbor urgently.

"I suppose then that the time is right, Master Narvi?" Helluin had asked. She looked over at the son of Curufin who stood squinting at the ring.

"Very nearly…" Narvi said, also watching the incandescence dropping, the pure white mellowing to a hue of yellow-white, "…very shortly now."

"Doth thou remember the words, Helluin?" Celebrimbor asked. "Only thou can…"

Helluin cut him off impatiently. "Of course I remember the words. They art the least part of the process. If thou judge the time right, then give me the tong."

She reached out her hand for it. "Not quite yet," Celebrimbor muttered. For another few moments the Elven smith hesitated. He and Narvi were now both squinting closely at the ring. The hue dropped yet a fraction more toward true yellow. Even as the Dwarf uttered, "Now, Celebri-," he held it out to Helluin. She quickly took the ring and raised it head high, clenched tightly in the tong.

"From power to power! From my _fea_ to thine! Thy flight undiminished ere thou return to this hand of mine! I bind thee thus as I bear thee! Awaken, I charge thee!"

Helluin's brow was furrowed tight in concentration on what they had practiced many times in preparation for this day, when a fraction of herself would be transferred to empower and bind her ring. Had she not desired the completion of this work so deeply, she would have been loath to part with any of herself. When she had first learned what was necessary, her gut instinct had been to forgo such a desire and do without the weapon. Yet over and over Celebrimbor reasoned with her, asking, _doth not any act of creation require a sacrifice, the input of the personal spirit of the creator? Was it not the nature of any endeavor to take somewhat ere the reward of achievement was bestowed?_ Indeed the son of Curufin had ever bolstered her commitment to the project, having become enamoured of it himself.

Eventually she had deemed that she had the power to spare. It had happened over the decades, as their success crept closer and closer one step at a time, that she had found the necessities of the process becoming acceptable. She had slowly seduced herself to the idea of it, surprised at the same time that she was subject to such a process. Helluin recognized that her mind had rationalized the necessities and the tradeoff it entailed with the persuasiveness of her desire. One by one her reservations had faded. Now she stood and the day had come, but her resolve was complete.

For a moment the energy she had accumulated made her own hand glow, a brilliance of mingled silver and gold, the Light of the Two Tress that she had once absorbed in Aman. It encompassed the tong and the ring, rising even to overpower the physical light of the metal's heat that now glowed with the very same hue. Then there came a flash, and Helluin felt a part of herself tearing away as the ring accepted her gift into itself. She proffered enough, yet not too much, but even so the loss left her breathless for a moment. She forced herself to inhale slowly and deeply to recover from it.

The ring passed from yellow-white to true yellow as it rested in the tong, and thence to yellow-orange as it continued to cool. All watched it, fairly holding their breaths. The ring had absorbed all the power Helluin had offered without breaking; its making and craft were sound! It came to a shade of orange the two smiths recognized from their many trials over the years and Narvi beckoned Helluin forward.

"Quench it now in a smooth motion…down into the oil deeply, and hold it there until the hissing ceases," he instructed for the hundredth time.

With a fluid movement, Helluin submerged the ring to the half-depth of the waiting barrel, plunging the smithy into the now shockingly dim light of a few lamps. Helluin turned her head away from the fumes as the blended oils boiled and hissed up in a great cloud about her. The reek reminded her somewhat of the stench of burning Gondolin, where the works of Turgon's craft had perished in dragon fire. _The memory of another part of myself torn away_, she thought, _another sacrifice to Middle Earth._

In the end they had succeeded, though it had taken almost a century. The final product was the _Sarchram_, the Grave Wing, and it was a ring made, not to adorn a finger, but to kill. It encompassed a circular blade whose diameter was the distance from Helluin's elbow to her wrist, and words of power had been graven upon it in Quenya, using the _Certar_**¹** of Khazad-dum. Of all Helluin's gear and kit, it was the only thing bright and fair.

**¹**(**Certar, _runes,_** Quenya, called **Cirth** in Sindarin, created by Daeron of Doriath in the 1st Age and adopted by the Naugrim, among others, as it was well suited for carved inscriptions.)

During those same years, rumors and tales began to be heard more frequently from the lands to the east. Evil was growing across Rhovanion and Greenwood, 'twas said, and from further east across Anduin came words whispered in fear of a darkness that had settled in the lands beyond the Ered Lithui, the Mountains of Ash. The time had come for Helluin to take up the second part of her Lord's assignment. It was now S.A. 1123.

To Be Continued


	14. In An Age Before Chapter 14

**In An Age Before - Part 14

* * *

**

**Chapter Twelve**

_**The Brown Lands and the Black - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Down into the lands of Rhovanion she had come, passing from Azanulbizar Gate having journeyed the 40 miles through Hadhodrond. After issuing into Nanduhirion she walked down Celebrant as she had a millennium before, finding at its confluence with the future Nimrodel, a battle in progress. Through the trees she heard the sounds of steel clashing, screams of pain, the whiz of arrows, and the thud of their impacts. She drew Anguirel and hastened forward. The screams had been voiced in the guttural timbre of Yrch.

What she found made her pause for a moment ere she came to the battle. Glam there were and many of them, arrayed in two companies and contesting some squabble that had progressed to bloodshed between them. From the forest came the flight of Elven bolts, indiscriminately dropping an Orch here and another there, taking lives from each company at will. Helluin realized that it was a three-sided battle, a fight between two Yrch companies that had drawn the attention of the Nandor of King Lenwin. The northern border guards were now picking off what Glam they could as all were equally their enemies, but their opportunistic shooting had been noted by the commanders of the two companies. These were warily circling each other, swords at the ready, as they argued for suspending their own hostilities in order to fight the Elves hidden about them in the woods. Now Helluin estimated the Yrch companies at about 120 soldiers still living, but from the bow song and arrow flights she guessed that the Elves numbered only about two dozen. It was a potentially bad situation in which the odds would soon shift. Even as she thought this the two Orch captains were stilled, no longer circling, and they were lowering their swords. They had quit their bickering and reached an agreement. The tide would soon shift from a three-way free for all into a slaughter of two companies against a much smaller one.

Helluin raised the Sarchram and whipped it into flight. The Grave Wing flew with a warbling whistle, deflected as it clipped the blade from an Orch soldier's scimitar, and found a new course without losing any speed. It was but a blur in the afternoon air, scarcely to be seen but for a glimmer of reflections. Just as the Orch captains prepared to order their troops to stand down, their faces were hewn clean from their skulls without even a change of expression. The Grave Wing had laid them low with no warning. It ricocheted a final time, slicing the leather curass of another Orch soldier, and then it returned from whence it came, seeking its place in Helluin's hand. She snatched it from the air and its whine was silenced. The Yrch stood indecisive, staring in shock and amazement at the bodies of their fallen commanders, who now lay with their skulls cloven in two.

Into their stunned midst Helluin charged, Anguirel in one hand, the Sarchram in the other. The blue fire blazed in her eyes and her black hair flew from beneath her hauberk as she slashed and spun. Ere they came to their senses and began to move, six had already died upon her blades. The old familiar bloodlust from the wars of Beleriand revisited the warrior of the Host of Finwe, and her battle cry of _"Beltho Huiniath!_" rang through the woods as it had in the Elder Days.

At first the Yrch gave battle, seeing but a single foe. Helluin cut down any that approached. In her eyes was the Light of Aman, but on her face lay a twisted and reckless smile. She sneered at the Yrch, reveled in shedding their blood, and goaded them to deliver themselves to their deaths, calling them craven, slave, and doomed. She tirelessly swung and slashed, slaying them with little effort. Very soon the Yrch came to fear her and they shied away from her face. She pursued them mercilessly, while from the opposite side of the battle, a continuing hail of deadly arrows flew from the trees.

Even the Yrch have their tales and lore, told in a perverted version of the Common Tongue or in the Black Speech of their new master, who of old had been the lieutenant of their maker. There were half-forgotten epics of woe and horror, and the muddled chronicles of battles won and lost ere the world had changed. Among the lies were a few references to the Elf with the Blue Fire Eyes, undying and terrible, untouchable in battle, and a scourge upon their people. Rumors and superstitions told that she was like unto their master in her limitless hatred and lust for blood. She was a terror not seen in a thousand years. Yet now she was come among them in a frenzy of mayhem! The same despair gripped them then as would crush the spirit of a Man suddenly facing a Balrog. The last dozens she chased over the precipice of the gore and into the rushing waters of Celebrant, where they were battered on the rocks and drowned.

Then through the sounds of her thumping heart, her racing breathing, and the pounding waves of blood in her veins, Helluin heard the command, _"Daro i-npengath!_**¹**She recognized the voice of Haldir calling the order to cease firing. And at last the only sounds were the rushing of water and the wind shifting the branches overhead.

**¹**("**Daro i-npengath!"**, lit. trans. **"_Stop all the bows!"_,** ver. trans. **_"Cease fire!"_ ****_Daro_**(imp. **-o**) + **_peng_**(bow for shooting)+ **-ath**(coll. pl**) + in**(def. art. pl)**, _i-npengath_**. Sindarin)

Helluin stood still, smelling the spilt blood of the Yrch, splashed by it, wet with it, and surrounded by corpses. In one hand she grasped the black sword Anguirel, and it rejoiced in the slaughter. In the other she held the ring of mithril alloys that Celebrimbor had made, and it spoke with a voice lilting and musical, but also deathly cold.

"Hail to thee, Helluin, Spirit of Battle's Fire. Hail to thee, Anguirel, Steely Daughter. Proud am I this day, shedding the blood of our enemies in thy company."

And Anguirel replied, "Thou art indeed of our kindred, Grave Wing, hail and well met."

Now Helluin was still recovering from the bloodlust of the battle, but the words she marked and pondered. Anguirel, she had always thought, meant _Iron from the Star_, for of celestial ore had that sword been forged by Eol…it and Anglachel, its mate…or more rightly, Helluin realized, _she_ and _her brother_, for they were both the children of the Dark Elf's forge. Now at last, Helluin was aware that Anguirel could be better translated as _Steely Daughter,_ being_ Angui _+ _rel._ It made sense. Neither sword had favored the hands of doomed and ill-fated masters. Both sought a hand of their own gender, and a spirit of complimentary darkness. Thus had Beleg been as unsuited to Anglachel as was Maeglin to Anguirel. Instead Anglachel had accepted Turin and Anguirel had accepted Helluin. In this the swords were as siblings and the offspring of their father, alike in temperament, dark in character, willful and unforgiving like their maker. She filed the knowledge away for later contemplation as she cleaned her weapons.

This time, Haldir was leading a company of twenty-two border guards that included two of his brothers, Rumil and Orophin. None of them had ever been present when Helluin had fought an enemy, though Haldir clearly remembered the arrows that had bounced off her armor at their first meeting long before. After a thousand years and more he was happy to see her again, for, he told her as they walked toward King Lenwin's Halls, Yrch had multiplied and were now seen increasingly often 'nigh the Hithaeglir. Indeed, the southern border guards reported them as well, and the occasional refugee fleeing from the east in terror. Some of these were Men of Rhovanion, uprooted from their homes just north of the Emyn Muil, who spoke the rumor of a dark power growing in the land of Mordor. Indeed because of this they had fled north into unknown lands, rather than south down Anduin to the coast. In the realm of Lindórinand 'nigh Celebrant, all were eager for tidings of the world beyond the forest, and all were apprehensive of what those tidings would tell.

The next morning Helluin came again to the high talan and the Hall of King Lenwin and the Lady Calenwen, and there spoke of those things she had seen. Of the realm of Belfalas, the Nandor of Celebrant had the greatest interest, and King Lenwin was indeed glad to hear of his grandsire's continued prosperity and his renewed quest for the West. The years Helluin had spent among the Dúnedain of Númenor was regarded with curiosity but little understanding. The Nandor had only minimal contact with Men, and those mostly the kin of Berlun, shape shifters and always few in number. Lenwin's people had absolutely no understanding and little interest in her tales of her voyages of discovery; the wider world simply wasn't real to them. They had nodded in irritation when she'd spoken of the flourishing city of Noldor and Sindar that lay but 95 miles west beyond Hithaeglir, and that these Eldar were in close friendship with the Naugrim of Khazad-dum. The news brought forth some griping on Lenwin's part, for Ost-In-Edhil was the origin of Oropher's band, which had passed through on their way to Greenwood and lured off no small number of his own people. Long ere she finished, Helluin had come to realize just how isolationist, provincial, and grossly out of touch the Nandor of Celebrant were. They had walled themselves within their forest home, admitting almost no one, seldom venturing forth, and trusting none but kin. In some ways, they were more withdrawn that the Dwarves.

"Many things now move in the world, O King," Helluin concluded, "and sooth, nigh draws some great doom. Evil arises, I deem, such as hast not been ere the War of Wrath. Be ye ware, for dark shalt be the coming days."

"Helluin, I doth fear such may be as thou say, for omens and tidings portend strife ahead," King Lenwin said. "Two centuries and more ago did some of the Sindar come down Caradhras Gate and pass amongst us, ere going thither to yonder Greenwood o'er Anduin, and of them some tidings came. Still little beyond our borders do I know, but ever aforetime such great evil indeed passed us by. Think thou that soon it shalt find us at last?"

"O King," Helluin answered, "if Mordor doth be home to some great enemy who comes west with war, than of a certainty shalt thy realm be afflicted, for thou liest betwixt east and west. Khazad-dum and all Eriador lie past thy borders, and through thy land might spies and companies of the enemy come thither to Caradhras Pass as down a road to a castle yonder."

The King's eyes darted nervously to the east. What Helluin said was true. If an invader sought a way into Eriador without marching far to the south, then the lands before Nanduhirion were as the doorstep to both the tunnels of Hadhodrond and the pass o'er Caradhras. His realm lay astride their path and would not be ignored.

"Speaking such doom may be in vain, O King," Helluin added, "for were the enemy numerous, neither way would suffice for the passage of his arms. Indeed a great army would favor the passes south of Methedras, and thou may for a time be left in peace."

Just as the king began to relax with a sigh of relief, Helluin finished her statement.

"Yet once triumphant in the west, he, returning to consolidate his subjugated territories, shalt for certain come against thee who would then stand alone. If thou were of a mind to resist, then the time to offer battle would be just after his armies pass, leaving thee free to assault their forces' rearguard while'st they engage others to the fore."

"To do so we would of need leave our forest, the land we best know how to defend," Lenwin tried to reason, being viscerally repulsed by the thought of leaving home to get to war. "Of lessened use would our tactics be in open lands."

"Thou hast yet another choice, O King," Helluin said, knowing her suggestion would be greeted with even greater dismay. "In alliance and through yonder realm of Khazad-dum might thy forces pass to battle in Eriador. T'would be then but a march of 40 miles."

As expected, the king's eyes bugged out and he very nearly gagged. Make friends with the Dwarves? It was unconceivable. Pass through 40 miles of tunnels far beneath the surface with all the endless weight of the mountains pressing down overhead? It was unthinkable! No sun, no moon, no stars, no breeze, no trees. It would be unbearable! He would rather die than even consider it. Surely Helluin was joking, yet she stood before him with a questioning expression on her face. Beside him, Lady Calenwen bore a look of unconcealed horror. Helluin suppressed her laughter with effort. Under Lenwin's leadership, the Elves of Lindórinand would be well nigh worthless as allies. They would fight only to defend their own woods, and in their own woods they would be slaughtered.

Helluin spent two years among the Nandor of Celebrant, taking up again her post as Hunter of the King. In those days she roamed the forest at will, but mostly she came southern border, or to the east 'nigh Anduin. There she kept watch, and often she found need of her sword. Evil men were more plentiful now, especially to the south, and from time to time, refugees too appeared. Often enough in those days, Helluin joined with the southern border guards in repelling incursions, and among those she slew she marked many that bore the badge of an eye of fire encircled in red embossed on their flesh. Others bore a serpent tattoo in red and black. Most were Easterlings out of South Rhûn, who had come west 'round the southern end of Greenwood. She heard tidings too of increasing numbers of Orch companies, waylaid by the northern border guards, and these were invariably making their way south 'neath the eaves of the Hithaeglir.

In that time Helluin realized that all she was seeing was part of some great strategy, some vast plan. Evil forces were being gathered, marshaled 'neath the hand of a master of surpassing influence. The Yrch were surely come from the lands about Mt. Gundabad, which stood upon the farthest north of the Hithaeglir. From those same foul caves and warrens that had housed them since the First Age had come the force she had defeated with the Avari in Greenwood back in S.A. 422. For a moment she wondered what the Onodrim were doing, and whether the Yrch had infiltrated the forest or whether they were too constrained in following the orders of their new master to do aught but march south.

It was with this question foremost in mind that Helluin finally left the Realm of King Lenwin again in S.A. 1125. Ere she departed she came to the king and gave him counsel.

"In all good conscience must I warn thee, O King, for in the past hath I battled large companies of Yrch in Greenwood such as harry thy borders now. There, with the Avari of King Telpeapáro, did we essay to clear the forest of their filth, and so we gave them battle. Like thine own, those troops, lacking in store of iron, fought mostly with the bow and the spear and to great profit did their strategy fare. Yet in the final battle, ere all the Yrch were slain, the enemy charged the archers' lines, and coming amongst them, did great hurt with their swords. For the Avari, had but spear and bow and a few knives, and they stood ill prepared for battle at close quarters. Surely thou can'st imagine the loss and the mayhem.

In the deeds of days to come I foresee yet this same road perhaps appearing before thy people. In preparation for that day, I must counsel thee, by any means, conventional or not, to lay thy hands upon such store of arms as can be used against an enemy face to face. Swords would be best, but foregoing these, then studded clubs and axes of light head will suffice. Send not thy soldiers to war unprepared, O King, for thy losses in blood shalt be dismal to count."

"But where shalt such be found, Helluin of the Noldor, for in the forest there is scant ore and none here proficient at the forge?"

"Then O King, in despite of the practice and prudence which thy history teaches, thou must come at last in friendship among the Naugrim of Khazad-dum. In their realm, so close by thine own, art the greatest mines and forges, and the subtlest craftsmen of weapons upon Middle Earth. Indeed in the shadow of this Age's greatest western army doth thy kingdom lie. In league with them can'st thou increase the chances of thy people."

For long moments King Lenwin regarded Helluin in silence and hard did he ponder upon her words. Far more of war had she seen, and so he harkened to her though she was a commoner amongst her people. He could see in his mind's eye the battle she described. Indeed for his people, flight before the enemy would be the only choice. Their lands would be overrun. Yet in all the years since they had come to the mellyrn forest, his people could count on the fingers of one hand how many times one of Durin's Folk had walked in their realm. None of his people had ever strode the deeps of the Dwarrowdelf. But Helluin had walked those halls and seen those smithies and mansions. She wore armor forged by the hands of their craftsmen. She held their people in high honor and league of friendship; they were not monsters, only unfamiliar and strange to his eyes.

"O King, in warning will I tell thee what thou forgoes," she said sadly. "With a company from Khazad-dum numbering but one hundred men at arms, I could take thy kingdom and rule thy realm, for not a single weapon thy people possess can bite upon me and few among their soldiery would fall. And none of them bear bows, but rather the axe and the sword. Within Hadhodrond stands an army of 'nigh thirty thousands, clad in mail and plate, helmed and masked with steel. They art warriors fell, of a fell race, and they art the bitterest foes of the Glamhoth**¹**. And they art not thy enemy. Were thou to ally with them, then in battle could thou stand together, slaying thy enemies both close and far. Of them thou could learn strategies unknown to thee and find weapons to arm they warriors. I shalt say no more."

**¹**(**Glamhoth, _yrch-horde_,** coll.pl., lit. trans. **_"Din Horde"_** Sindarin)

Two months later, Helluin sat upon a fallen trunk 'neath the leafy canopy at Laiquadol. She was waiting there for Oldbark, just outside the entrance to his halls where it was safe for her to drink the water from the stream. He hadn't appeared yet. Indeed, since coming to Greenwood she had not seen any of the Onodrim. What she had seen of the forest had been quiet, possessed of a tense and waiting silence that felt oppressive without visible threat or proof of danger. She knew that feeling, but now it was stronger than in the past. It was the anger of the trees. Now none of them would speak to her as they had of old, instead remaining still, rooted and unresponsive, but she suspected, hardly unawares. In deference to this, she had not wandered, but instead stayed close by Laiquadol, and she had made her way straight there from Anduin.

Yet another month did she wait, and by then her patience was wearing thin, and she had thoughts of leaving for a time. But in the evening of 26 Norui, (June 26th), a rustling footstep did she hear and suddenly Oldbark stood before her. He appeared weary, with drooping branch and sad tired eyes, but now he greeted her "hastily" in Sindarin, as if displaying some newfound knowledge.

"Oooooo-hooooom, the wandering Elfling, returned to the forest in dark times," he told her as he led her within his halls. He set both feet into the stream and gave a great sigh. "Ahhhhh, I have needed such refreshment. Soooooo, what brings _Helluin of the Noldor, called also Maeg-mormenel _again to Greenwood? This new realm of Sindarin Elves? More Yrch perhaps? Or Evil Men? Or maybe the Great Enemy who arises in the east?"

"Indeed all of those and then some," Helluin replied so hastily that Oldbark gave her a quick look. "I hath been in the mellyrn forest where evil hast grown about the borders of late, and I had thought to ask if such was the same here, particularly in the north."

"Such is the same everywhere these days it seems, and indeed I have just returned from the north. Glam have attempted to enter but not to stay. They are traveling south from Mt. Gundabad…always south, and mostly on the west side of the river. Still some stray into the forest and I have left _Huorns_ upon the borders," he announced with a smile in his voice. "Huorns shall guard the forest." He stood looking down at her for another moment and then offered, "Oh, and the answer to your earlier question was yes, it seems to be contracting."

Upon his last sentence, Helluin had to concentrate. Oldbark had given her an answer and she wracked her brain to recall the question. It took a while but finally she remembered the day they had met in S.A. 264. She had asked whether the forest was expanding, contracting, or remaining stable in its borders. Now after 861 years, he had answered. The forest was shrinking. She nodded in appreciation of his efforts. Coming to a conclusion about his observations hadn't taken him a millennium as he'd originally suspected. Helluin wondered if he was becoming hasty. She was preparing to ask further about the Evil Men and the Great Enemy that he had mentioned, but when she focused on Oldbark again she discovered that he had become immobile and was fast asleep.

Helluin went to the stream and drank of its waters from a cupped hand. She felt the strange sensation overtaking her again and she smiled mischievously. Carefully she nursed it with sip after sip until she felt her armor tighten apace. Someday she would again meet with Galadriel, and this time, if she had calculated aright when she'd had Grimiss alter her mail and plate, she would stand just a finger's width taller than the daughter of Finarfin.

In a "hasty" aside the next afternoon, Oldbark had mentioned the new enclave of Sindar and Nandor who had arrived in Greenwood not quite two hundred-odd years before. Someone named King Oropher? Did she know him? Or maybe his son, Prince Thranduil? They had taken up residence south of the Emyn Duir, and so far had stayed out from underfoot. He was currently worried that the Huorns might 'eat' them by mistake. The Huorns were notoriously indiscriminate about those that went on two legs, he told her gravely, and Elves had always been more curious than was sometimes good for them. Still, they had been helpful in controlling the spiders.

Helluin had little knowledge of Oropher or Thranduil, but guessed that they led the contingent of Sindar that Galadriel had mentioned as, _a large group of them _(that) _went thither recently over the Hithaeglir, _when Helluin had first arrived in Ost-In-Edhil in S.A. 992. The timing was about right. They were certainly the same as those King Lenwe had griped about. She told Oldbark only that they might have originally come from Lindon, at least the Sindar, that is.

"Didn't they all these days?" Oldbark had observed, meaning, come from Lindon.

Thereafter, Helluin spent several days speaking with Oldbark. From his very precise answers, she gleaned that many kindreds of evil kind were heading for the southern land of Mordor. This was a place she had never visited, lying as it did, hemmed in between the Ered Lithui and the Ephel Duath. Oldbark knew little about it either beyond its location, since it had never been a part of his forest. In the Eldar Days, it had been mostly located 'neath the Inland Sea of Helcar, and had only come into being after the changes of Arda following the War of Wrath. By then the forest had retreated and the Brown Lands lay in between. All she was sure of was that this parched and bitter land lay south of where she had taught the Men of Rhovanion, and east across Anduin from Belfalas. It was a start.

Helluin went south, and she saw that indeed the Greenwood had retracted. There was now a wide land of hill and plain. At sometime during her absence in the past this had been sewn with gardens and fields, rich with tillith and orchards and vines, yet now it was abandoned to weed and weather. Many homesteads could once have thrived here, she thought, peopled by Men, most likely the descendants of those she'd once known somewhat to the south. For a while they had thrived and moved north as the trees had receded. From this land had no doubt come many of the refugees she had seen 'nigh Celebrant, fleeing north away from the growing evil. She passed through quickly on the remnants of tracks and roads now overgrown with weeds.

Now she came to the lands where she had spent years with the herders, farmers, and fishermen. All that country was deserted. Towards the south she came upon the remains of homesteads that had been put to the torch. She was reminded of the destruction of the lands about Eglarest and Brithombar in the Falas of Beleriand long before. It raised her anger apace. In that once familiar land she noted paths that had been used repeatedly for the passage of companies, Yrch and Men most likely, bound in haste southwards.

By the last days of Urui, (August), Helluin had struggled through the Emyn Muil, a dismal landscape of ridges and slot canyons, dry washes, gulches, and precipices, dust, bitter winds, and little water. The land was contorted into curved ridges and eroded into curved gullies, all of which encircled the Falls of Rauros upon Anduin. About the river the slopes were steepest and least easily traveled. At least nigh the river there had been many small streams and forests of dark pines right down to the water's edge. Further east where Helluin had traveled, the land took on a parched character, giving rise to little more than dry scrub, tough grasses, and lichens.

When she finally emerged from the Emyn Muil, she was forced east some thirty miles out of desire to avoid the wide marshlands that she had viewed for several days from the higher ground to the north. In this way, Helluin approached Mordor across a wide and flat land, a very dry place that stretched off into the distant east without a break. This was the southwestern most corner of South Rhûn, a place that in later days would come to be called Dagorlad, the Battle Plain. Helluin coated her green cloak with the brown dust at her feet and proceeded warily.

Ahead to the south she could see the faces of the Ered Lithui, the Mountains of Ash, stretching out to the east for close to 450 miles before trailing off into Khand. To the west but a short spur of the Ephel Duath was visible. A dark gap like a narrow jagged wound divided the Ered Lithui from the Ephel Duath that ran southwards but was mostly hidden from her sight. Further west lay the forested sloping land that led down to the great river, while across that distant bright ribbon marched the eastern end of the Ered Nimrais and the snowcapped peak of Mindolluin.

As the miles passed and she skirted the great swamp, she continued straight south, for this would bring her to the slopes of the Outer Fence of Shadows, at a spot some miles west of that dark gap into which she saw that many tracks now led. The landscape took on the character of moors, gently rolling, with low hills poorly covered in short, coarse grasses and heather, and bottomlands soggy with peat. At night, fogs rose and swirled in an almost constant breeze from the east. It created a low moan, unending, as if the land suffered in a ceaseless pain that it had come to accept. During the days, the absence of trees translated into a lack of cover for her approach. Helluin moved warily but went unchallenged. She could only guess that any activity going on within this forbidding land lay far within, and so none stood sentry at its borders.

A week later Helluin had climbed the jagged black slopes of the Ephel Duath somewhat less than thirty miles west of the gap of Cirith Gorgor, the Haunted Pass. She detected no spirits or haunts anywhere nearby, but the land was desolate. No growing thing showed itself on those slopes. The rock was hard and crystalline, the tortured up thrust from some violent birth that had forced its way through the surrounding earth like an axe. She had climbed with care for a fall would be deadly and the incline was steep. Upon finally reaching the top she surveyed the inner lands and what she saw made her cringe.

Looking down upon the plain of this Udûn**¹** was like peering into a vast overturned skullcap, hewed off and burned black as if taken for desecration from a funeral pyre. Magma had formed sheer walls that fell hundreds of feet, forming the edges of a barren, bowl-shaped depression 40 miles across, above which the inner walls of the Ephel Duath and the Ered Lithui stood like splintered bone. The two ranges met at the Cirith Gorgor in the north and at yet another narrow gap, the Isenmouthe in the south, almost as if Udûn's walls had been cloven north and south by the stroke of a great axe. Indeed, spurs of the two ranges completed the bowl shape and separated it from a broken volcanic landscape further south. The overall impression was of imprisonment, desolation, and despair. Udûn was to the Black Land as a condensation and herald of its menace, a foyer where many could be constrained and few could escape, ere all were sapped of their spirit by the dismal surroundings and their master's torment. This was Helluin's first glimpse of Mordor. Nothing grew in her sight. She could nearly hear the very rocks crying out in anguish. So ugly and tortured was the land that looking at it made her feel ill. For some time she was forced to turn her back on it and stare off into the distance, into the green lands of Anduin far to the south.

**¹**(**Udûn, _Hell_**. Sindarin)

When she returned her eyes to Mordor she looked more carefully, mapping the land into her memory and noting any details she could espy. First to draw her attention was the smoldering cone of Orodruin. It rose 4,500 feet above the rocky plain, indistinct across a hundred miles of smoggy air, but still the most notable feature of that land. Next she noted tracks across the pumice fields, crude roads, leading from the mountain to the Isenmouthe that opened into Udûn. She followed a second road that ran east from the mountain to a projecting spur of the Ered Lithui, and there her eyes stopped.

A massive foundation had been gouged into the tumbled rock. From where she stood it was 125 miles away, and only with her Elven sight could she make out anything of its details at all. She saw that there would be pits and dungeons deep, and warrens of tunnels that would someday be roofed over, never again to see the light of day. The populations of whole cities could be held in thrall in such a vast prison, and there slowly broken in mind and spirit through countless years of suffering. Already upon the perimeter of the excavation the first evidence future walls were rising. She estimated the bottom course of blocks to be a twenty yards thick! Someday there would be a building here greater than any she had ever imagined. Even the works of Valinor would be dwarfed by the structure that grew here. If it were to be a tower, then it would rise to the very heavens, three furlongs and more in height, from which a watch could be kept over all that land. And like everything else she saw, the blocks and posts that would rise from that foundation would be black monoliths of stone. A great black tower it would one day be; indeed greater in size than Mindon Eldalieva, Ingwe's white tower in Tirion across the sea. It would take centuries to rise even with all the slaves of many lands to toil and die in its building. She guessed that the work had been underway already for 'nigh on a century, and they hadn't known…they hadn't even truly suspected.

Helluin shivered and sat down. Across the great distance separating her like a blessing from that horror, she had seen minions and thralls at hard labor, numerous as ants, moving, moving, ever in motion unremitting, and whether driven by broken minds or the lash of whips she couldn't tell. And upon the broken land about the feet of the fiery mountain, she had seen tents and huts, and marching formations drilling on the Plain of Gorgoroth; a vast army to support the cause of their lord, the Master of the Dark Tower.

Across the intervening distance she could sense a great and malevolent spirit. It shrouded all that land, but upon the foundations of the rising tower it sat concentrated as a black fume or stench. Helluin felt the reek of darkness upon her soul; the emanation of one so founded in malice and lust for power that avarice enshrouded it in a miasma of cruelty and putrefaction. It might take any guise before the eyes, but unless that guise was consciously focused to dissemble its true nature, none whose eyes had seen the Light of Aman could be fooled to think it fair. It was not cloaking itself now, for in its own land it had no need of disguise. Rather, she sensed that it reveled in its wonton nature. And across the long miles between, Helluin perceived it clearly, and the sheer volume of its grasping need to debase and rule all struck her like a blow. It was something she had not felt in an age and had never expected to feel again.

In her heart she knew only one could command such power as to bring such nightmare horrors into the waking world. No Orch or Valaraukar, nor captain of Men or ruined Elf was this. Once he had been a Maia of Aule blessed, then a lieutenant after giving up his free will to do the bidding of a dark and greater master. He had been a shape shifter, sorcerer, general, tormentor, and the master of countless slaves. Now it seemed he had arisen again to build a realm in imitation of his defeated overlord. Surely it must be Sauron, who of old had been called _Gorthaur_, the Abhorred. In all the long years since the War of Wrath she had thought him so cowed as to be little more than a whisper of menace and a shadow of evil. This was worse than any rumor that Gil-galad had hinted at when she'd set out from Lindon. And now, having discovered the enormity of the true threat upon Middle Earth, Helluin descended the Ephel Duath, staggering as one in shock from some great and overpowering trauma.

She soon came to the lands of Ithilian and thence to Anduin, walking as one asleep upon her feet. At Cormallen she crossed over the water, just downstream from Cair Andros, and then made her way along the great river to the realm of Belfalas. Helluin was still not herself though a fortnight had passed. In a daze she entered a tavern upon the South Road 'nigh Pelargir, and there she sat with a mug of wine, slaking her thirst and summoning her wits. Eventually she began to notice the company all about her in the common room. There were Elves of Belfalas, Men of the riverlands and shores, and a few others of mortal kind, taller and more fair, lordly yet honoring those about them, and bearing long bright swords beneath cloaks of blue and white.

Here upon Anduin, Helluin saw a group of mariners who could have come from no place other than Númenor. As a mirage wrung from her memories they seemed, yet obviously real, for they spoke and jested with those at the tables near them. All seemed to hold them in high honor, Elves and Men alike. Unable to resist, Helluin found herself on her feet, mug forgotten in one hand as she made her way to their table. There she drew their attention immediately for unlike the others of Elven kind they had seen in that land, she was taller, stronger, clad as a warrior yet more beautiful, and surrounded by a subtle aura of immortal light. Some of her kind a few of them had met in Eldalondë, mariners of the Eldar come from Tol Eressea. They had never expected to find one such as she in these mortal lands, save at Lindon and Mithlond, for as different from the Nandor of Belfalas was she as were they from the local Men. More than this even, her appearance was eerily familiar, like unto one now highly placed in their own land. As one they rose and bowed, and Helluin, standing a yard away bowed to them in return.

"Long hast it been since last I laid eyes upon the sons of Westernesse," Helluin said. "Hail and well met, mariners fair and bold."

"Hail and well met," the tallest of the Men of Númenor said in return, "surely thou art one of the Noldor, for thy like only hath I seen in Lindon, or come upon ships to us out of the Lonely Isle. I am _Falmandil_**¹**, a Captain of the Guild of Venturers of Númenor, and these are the officers of my ship, _Linte Eari_**²** out of Romenna. Pray tell me thy name, noble warrior, for unexpected in this place is thy appearance."

**¹**(**Falmandil, _Wave Lover, falma_**(crested wave) + **_-ndil_**(agent in names, lover of) Quenya) **²**(**Linte Eari, _Fast Seas_**, Quenya)

"Hail and well met, Falmandil, Captain Venturer of Númenor, I am Helluin Maeg-mormenel of the Host of Finwe, a wandering explorer in these Mortal Lands."

Then as one the Men of Númenor bent upon one knee before her on the floor of the common room, and all those around them were amazed, for among their kind, these mariners were as kings from across the sea. Indeed, few were more surprised than Helluin. After a moment, Falmandil raised his head and spoke.

"Númenor is now ruled by Tar-Ancalime, first sovereign queen and daughter of King Tar-Aldarion, son of King Tar-Meneldur and Queen Almarian, thy daughter. Thou art as a mother to our people, Helluin of the Noldor, and we do thee reverence."

For a moment Helluin was struck dumb by these tidings. Her great-granddaughter now sat upon the throne of Númenor. Though the House of Elros enjoyed long life, two generations had passed in her absence. Her daughter and grandson were gone to their tombs but the line she had added her blood to almost 600 years before continued. Finally she regained her wits and gestured the Men to their feet.

"Thy tidings took me by surprise, for to me the time seems not so long," she said in apology, "please, sit, resume thy ease. I would join thy company, for tidings recent and grave hath I to share that should come to the ears of thy Queen, and it seems fortune favors me in this meeting."

Falmandil nodded and pulled a chair from another table, and setting it at their table's head, beckoned Helluin to sit. Even as she did, she marked the relative youth of this captain and his officers. _Not yet far beyond their first half-century, I deem_, she thought.

"We art honored to enjoy thy company, Helluin Maeg-mormenel," he told her, "and indeed even this meeting itself would be tidings welcomed by many in Armenelos. Yet thou hath somewhat to report of the doings here in Middle Earth?"

"Indeed so," Helluin agreed after taking the offered seat and sipping of her wine, "and grave art they such as none I hath borne aforetime. Hear me and harken to my warning."

Then for some time Helluin reported to Falmandil and his officers on all she had seen in the land of Mordor, and all she had come to know of the current trends of events in Middle Earth. The Númenóreans were horrified, and indeed they were struck speechless for many moments. The reality was far worse than what their experiences in recent years had suggested.

"Helluin, thy words speak of dark days to come," Falmandil said gravely, "and yet they but make clear what we hath at times seen. See thou that now we come bearing swords? For many years such was not the case for we were received at all times with friendship. Yet of late on several occasions violence hast indeed been visited against our people, and this mostly to the south in the lands about our new haven at Umbar that is still abuilding. The days darken upon the Hither Shores, but not so dark did we deem them as thy words report."

"Indeed the days become dark, Falmandil, and darker still shalt they be ere the end is revealed," Helluin said. "Much would I say to thy monarch, for in Middle Earth folk hath grown weak and used to peace. Soon Sauron may offer war, soon at least it shalt seem to those of my kindred, though in fact many years may pass ere his power is full wrought. Yet still I know the Men of Númenor love these lands from whence they once came ere Elenna rose from the sea, and for the plight of thy brothers on the Hither Shores do they feel sympathy."

"Such is true as thou say. For sake of that love and sympathy do we yet come amongst these folk with such aid as we can bring." Here Falmandil sighed and took a deep breath as were he preparing for a plunge into waters deep and unknown. He then continued, "In Númenor for many years did thy grandson Tar-Aldarion sail regularly to Lindon and there take counsel with the High King. Yet now his daughter rules, and Tar-Ancalime cares little for ships or sailing, or the doings on the Hither Shores. She hast withdrawn from the counsels of Gil-galad and concentrates most on our own people…and some say that even at home she is not so engaged or forethinking as our late king."

Helluin felt the reservation in Falmandil's voice. He was loath to criticize the policies of his monarch, for ever had the Men of Númenor reverenced their rulers. Even more so was he reticent to speak in doubt of Tar-Ancalime to one of her ancestors, and a High Elf at that. There was surely more he had not said. Yet what his words implied was that to Middle Earth, Tar-Ancalime gave little thought, and to the aid of those upon the Hither Shores as their need grew, perhaps none at all. Indeed, looking into his heart Helluin detected a reservation in him that was indicative of real doubt in his ruler. She recalled the love in which Veantur and his men had held their king, Tar-Elendil, and the devotion that Tar-Meneldur had been accorded. She was shocked. This would never do.

"Falmandil, in what time wilt thou complete thy missions here in the Hither Lands, and shalt thou return thence to Númenor?" Helluin asked.

Falmandil met Helluin's eyes and a hope began to grow in his heart. Under Tar-Ancalime the Guild was held in low esteem and all that had to do with ships had fallen from favor. It saddened him, for to the seas and to Middle Earth ever had Tar-Aldarion's energies been directed. _Linte Eari_ had been from home three years, having called at Mithlond, Vinyalonde, and Umbar before Pelargir, and her holds were filled with timber, for by royal decree, none was now harvested in Númenor from the groves Tar-Aldarion had planted. Now she was taking on provisions at Pelargir ere she sailed for Romenna.

"Two days hence shalt we sail from these shores, and by the grace of the Valar shalt we see a fortnight later, the Pillar of Heaven rising from the sea. We art going home at last."

Helluin nodded and for some moments sat in silence. What she had seen should be reported forthwith to Gil-galad in Lindon. Yet it seemed to her the more urgent errand was to Númenor, to discover in what state stood that realm and her queen. In days to come, the aid of the Men of Westernesse would be vital to the free peoples of Middle Earth, and while she yet commanded some status there, perhaps she should indeed go thither. Sauron would not strike for many years, she deemed, and from Númenor, aid could not come across the sea with any speed if its necessity were not recognized in the policies of her sovereign. A month at least for sailing time alone, and what time for the preparation of an armed force? Too long to be of any value if it fell into debate.

"Falmandil, if thou would, I pray thee grant me passage to Númenor in thy good vessel, for I feel a desire to see my great-granddaughter and learn her counsels."

Here the young Captain smiled broadly for his hopes were uplifted at her words.

"With honor and welcome do I offer thee passage, Helluin of the Noldor."

To Be Continued


	15. In An Age Before Chapter 15

**In An Age Before - Part 15**

_It's Helluin's second visit to Númenor. Short chapter this time folks.

* * *

_

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**Armenelos, Númenor - The Second Age of the Sun**_

The situation was appalling, Helluin thought, as she stood in the court of Tar-Ancalime in the Citadel of Elros. Things had gone far downhill since the days of Tar-Elendil and Tar-Meneldur that she recalled. She had found her great-granddaughter cold, spiteful, quick to anger, and preoccupied with petty intrigues and the concerns of pride. Worse, she had found Tar-Ancalime to be her spitting image. Seeing the queen was unsettling; it was as if Helluin were looking into a mirror that revealed a darkened image of herself.

It was now 3 Narbeleth, (December 3rd),S.A. 1125. Ancalime was 252 years of age and had been on the throne of Númenor for 50 years. So far she had grudgingly produced an heir, but had no interest in marriage and indeed despised her mate, Hallacar. She was supremely self-possessed and had always been so, Helluin was informed, for she had been raised at first by her mother, Erendis, a woman embittered by the long years of her husband, Aldarion's absences during his many voyages to Middle Earth. Erendis had felt herself in contest with, and finally bested by, the sea. Her husband's love had been given to ships first and his wife second. Erendis had come to resent the treatment she received, and that bitterness towards Men and the sea she had passed on to her daughter, Ancalime. Now the queen regarded Men with coldness, as had her mother, distrusting them and caring little for their ventures. Their preoccupation with ships she judged boyish, their thoughts for war she abhorred. In her policies, no consequence was given to her father's alliance with the Elven King in Lindon, and indeed she scarcely considered the state of Middle Earth at all. More concerned was she with dominating those about her and ensuring that none gainsaid her will even in their private lives.

Helluin had found life at court stifling. Tar-Ancalime was severe, her maidservants, (for she employed no male servants), unhappy, and the subjects in her house given to gossip. The queen stood fast upon protocol and propriety, but only when it served her. At other times she would retire upon a whim. Only amongst the Guildsmen and in the mariners' taverns did Helluin truly feel at ease, and even among them she felt a pervasive dulling of enthusiasm and faltering of humor that surely descended from the country's ruler.

When she'd first arrived and been introduced at court, Tar-Ancalime had greeted Helluin coolly, almost as a curio or a relic, and had barely listened to what she said. Her own prior contacts with Elves had been minimal, while her mother had dismissed them as light-hearted and ever immature; happy to pass the ages with songs and revels and the tending of birds and flowers. They were, by nature of their immortality, immune to the necessity of standing strong against a world made by Men lest they be crushed by it in a few years.

Ancalime's grandmother, Queen Almarian, had said little to her regarding the Elves, or about Helluin, her own mother, save that she had gone across the sea upon the death of Almarian's father, Veantur. At that point, Ancalime had lost interest completely. Veantur was the archetype against which her mother, Erendis, had warned her…a man enamoured of the sea, the villain who had taken Aldarion on his first voyage to Middle Earth that had corrupted him for ever after. The subject became closed. Ancalime greeted Helluin as a guest only, and only because she was female, arranged housing in the Citadel for her during her visit which, the Queen assumed, "…would surely not be of long duration, for little of light-hearted revels were there to be found at her court."

"I am sure that is so, O Queen," Helluin had replied, "and indeed I come from Mordor having missed the celebrations of Sauron Gorthaur for the cornerstone laying of his Black Tower. I seem to be timing poorly my search for follies."

The Queen had regarded Helluin with narrowed eyes, not sure if she were being mocked or simply treated to the vacuous banter of an Elf. She couldn't help but feel a visceral resentment towards this Noldo, who at over 5,500 years of age looked no older than she herself, and whose beauty would endure long after her own had faded. Then she had waved her hand, dismissing Helluin and moving on to the next tedious bit of courtly trivia. For her part, Helluin had been seething, but slaying one of close kinship, and she a queen in her own hall, was not an option.

With the Queen's secretary did Helluin make a standing request for audience, but that meeting was long in coming, for Ancalime thought little of importance to her could come from the mouth of an Elf. Indeed she took some small pleasure in postponing again and again the date, thinking it would vex the Noldo as indeed such treatment would vex herself. She didn't understand that Helluin could outwait her, watching the years of her life pass by, knowing indeed that she had married without love and against her will, only to satisfy the necessities of her royal position. With the Elven sight of a Calaquende, Helluin had seen deeply into Tar-Ancalime's heart and was saddened by the coldness that she had discovered there.

The queen would have been furious had she known that Helluin had come to pity her. She would have been enraged to discover that Helluin had ceased considering her important to her mission and had simply bypassed her. To the queen's son and Heir, the future king, Helluin had gone instead. And to the future king she spoke as often as was possible, and this was often indeed, for Ancalime had held but little interest in doting upon a boy, and even less on a boy who had become a man.

When she had arrived in late S.A. 1125, Anarion, the Queen's Heir and only child, was 122 years in age. He was a quiet man, given mostly to learning, and dissuaded by his mother since childhood from seeking after adventure or going to sea. Helluin first met him in the early Narwain, (January), of S.A. 1126 as she sat in the library, reading the scrolls that her beloved Veantur had dictated long before enumerating their discoveries together in the Hither Lands. A tall man of royal blood came near, and looking at her with curiosity finally approached. Helluin had risen and bowed as befitted her station at court and he had returned her bow with courtesy. Helluin sensed a nobility in him whose like had been deeply submerged 'neath pride and bitterness in his mother, and so her heart took hope that his rule would be unlike hers.

"Greetings, O Prince," Helluin had said, "Art thou not Anarion, Heir to Her Majesty the Queen?"

"Indeed so," Anarion had said self-consciously, "yet I am more comfortable hearing my name rather than my title. Others hath and shalt hold that title, but only one a name, and thence such discourse as might pass between two is more of friendship than of business."

Helluin had smiled at the truth of his words. "Call thou then Anarion?" She had asked.

"Indeed such would be my preference," he had said, "and thou art surely Helluin Maeg-mormenel of the Noldor, for none look so like unto the Queen and art yet so different."

Helluin had nodded and smiled. "Call me Helluin, if thou please," she had said, "for no title do I hold, either here or amongst my people."

Anarion had returned her smile, if a bit tentatively. He had read of her in many scrolls.

"Yet amongst our people art none so well traveled, and I deem that amongst thine own thou art widely known and respected. I would hath thy counsel, Helluin, for the years pass and someday I must order this realm. As part of a greater whole rather than as a whole unto itself do I see Númenor. Unlike the Queen, I would hath knowledge of it." For some moments he was silent, but then continued on in a worried tone. "Aldarion, my grandfather, went oft to Lindon, and some fell business there occupied his mind. Yet I know but what I hath read…words in scrolls, and old words at that."

He fell silent, looking at the scroll in Helluin's hand.

"'Tis old words in old scrolls that lay the foundation for understanding new words and current deeds, Anarion," Helluin said. "A knowledge of lore is the only substitute for the memory of times long past, and none remember all things. In Middle Earth the days grow dark and a great and ancient evil rises anew. I hath seen the start of its great work, but the future I can only suspect. Not in the Queen's time, nor perhaps even in thine own shalt the battle be joined, yet preparations should be undertaken in advance. I fear that no interest in these things wilt the Queen hath, but there is much to be done while'st peace yet lasts. Should the war in Middle Earth go ill, then Númenor shalt not be safe."

"Tell me of these things, Helluin," Anarion asked, "for no other can."

And so in lieu of her audience with Tar-Ancalime, Helluin began educating Anarion about the peoples and realms of Middle Earth as they now stood. She taught him of events and alliances, of the historic origins of the distrusts and friendships of realms and kings, and of the Enemy. Anarion listened and absorbed what she said, and hungered yet for even more. Indeed, Helluin found his thirst unquenchable. None so like unto Veantur had she met, so open and seeking after discovery, yet his ocean was knowledge and his ships were the scrolls of lore. Hope was renewed in her heart, that in future days the Númenóreans would indeed offer aid to the people of Middle Earth, and this man, who had never set foot upon a ship, would lead his people thither.

As the weeks passed into months and Helluin's audience was postponed again and again, she instructed Anarion in the languages of Middle Earth. Already he spoke Adunaic, Sindar, and Quenya. She taught him the Silvan dialect, such of the Khazdul as she had learned, the vulgar Common Tongue, and some even of the Entish Speech. Next she gave him basic knowledge of crafts so that he would understand the requirements of builders and craftsmen, smiths and shipwrights, masons and armorors. It would be necessary for him in the planning of alliances and deployments. And last, she taught him the tactics of battle, the strategies of war, and the necessities of morale and command. So the years passed, while in Númenor life continued and in Middle Earth Sauron grew ever stronger.

It was 8 Cerveth, (July 8th), S.A. 1128 ere Tar-Ancalime deigned to make time for Helluin's audience, and they met in a salon as a maidservant filed and painted the Queen's nails. Helluin looked askance at this "folly" but held her peace, for to her, royals were frivolous as oft as not.

"And what, pray tell, is thy business, Helluin of the Noldor," Ancalime asked in a bored tone, her eyes carefully watching the filing of a curve. "I hope it hast not spoiled in the keeping." It had been over two and a half years since Helluin's arrival.

"I came to Númenor in warning, O Queen," Helluin began, knowing that her errand had already been accomplished and her warning conveyed to the Heir, "and in token of the alliance of our kindreds in days long past. For in days to come a fell doom awaits. Evil awakens that was long thought vanquished in Beleriand. Sauron Gorthaur, the Lieutenant of Angband orders a realm in Mordor 'nigh the havens of thy ships in Umbar."

The queen reacted to the news not at all, but regarded the colors the maidservant displayed upon a palette for her approval.

"The proper havens of our ships art in Romenna and Andunië and Eldalondë…and Mordor is far across the sea," the Queen stated. "The name of Sauron seems somewhat familiar…perhaps I hath heard it aforetime in some old tale? Nevermind, 'tis not our concern, the doings of the doomed upon the Hither Shores. From those trials the Valar hath removed us long ago. They art of no importance. Hast thou anything more to say?"

Here she regarded Helluin with a bored expression and then turned back to the palette to indicate her selection.

Helluin shrugged. Alike as they might look, she and Ancalime had nothing in common. The Queen was a waste of time to Helluin, and vice versa it seemed.

"The deeds of the Hither Lands art of importance to many and to myself not the least," Helluin said, "and in the future perhaps to Númenor as well, for the breadth of Belegaer is not so great for a Maia as to put its conquest beyond his reach. Fair may thy land be, O Queen, and the more likely thus to attract Sauron's attention. And mark my words, though thou find little interest in him, he shalt find more in thee, for the hatred of a defeated enemy is stronger than the ease of a victor; especially one who earned not her victory and was only gifted her peace."

Now the Queen looked again at Helluin, and this time her eyes were darkened with anger, yet they were met by eyes undaunted that shone with light. Ancalime saw in them the very spirit her mother had espoused; to stand as a woman and not be bent, to be a power unto oneself, and to exercise thy will unhindered. Grudgingly, she accorded Helluin a measure of respect.

"Take thou passage upon a ship and make thy way home to the Hither Lands since their fate concerns thee so closely," Tar-Ancalime ordered, "and there await such doom as thou foresees. Make no more prophecies of Númenor. We hath our peace, whether earned or gifted. Thou may hath thy war."

Thus dismissed, Helluin bowed and left the Queen. There was nothing more to say and she had already succeeded in her errand to Westernesse. The warning had come to the generation that would rule more closely to the time of necessity and that was well. She went to say a farewell to Anarion and then set out for Romenna and the Guild of Venturers. Helluin hoped that Falmandil and his ship _Linte Eari_ were in port. The Queen's leave would give her a chance to provide the Captain with a mission.

In Romenna, Helluin espied the docks and saw the ship Fast Seas waiting at anchor, cleaned, painted, freshly rigged and taking on provisions. She came to the Guild House, and to the Master of the Guild she presented the Royal Order of Leave and made her request for Falmandil's service.

"I see the Queen hast timed her dismissal of thee to coincide with the _Linte Eari's _sailing for Lindon, and I shouldn't doubt that its approaching departure perhaps decided the date of thy audience," the Guildmaster told Helluin apologetically.

Helluin nodded in understanding. Such machinations probably passed for subtleties in Armenelos. Ancalime was undoubtedly congratulating herself on ridding her court of the distracting Elf so smoothly. Indeed the Queen had done Helluin more favors than she could ever understand, allowing her time and access to instruct her Heir, arranging for her quick departure, and favoring her with a Captain sympathetic to her needs.

"I should convey my thanks to the Queen," Helluin remarked, "for she would find it confusing as she does not perceive her own generosity. T'would vex her."

The Guildmaster chuckled at the sentiment though he understood not the reasons.

"Captain Falmandil is probably with his officers at the Inn of the West Wind," he told Helluin, "Know'st thou the place?"

"Indeed I do," she said, "for it hath a long history and hath stood many years."

"Ahhh, yes. I should recall better my lore. Of course thou know'st the West Wind. Good day to thee then, Helluin. If I see thee not again, may Ulmo bless thy sailing and thy ventures bring good profit."

Helluin smiled at the customary words of well wishing. She knew well the response.

"Good fortune to those who wait ashore. May the days pass in peace and bring thy kin safely home."

Shortly later, Helluin sat at a table not of her own choosing in the common room of the Inn of the West Wind. She had come directly from the Guildhouse and had found Falmandil and his officers directly. They had welcomed her and bid her join them at a large round table near the north-facing windows that overlooked the quays. It was at this very table that Helluin had passed many an afternoon and evening, often staying late into the night, in the company of Veantur and the mariners of an earlier era. Indeed it was the custom of captains debarking or embarking, to come thither to drink and regale each other with their stories. Thus the tidings of missions and journeys had come first to the ears of the Captain Admiral and Helluin. Almost she could hear the words of that bygone era and see long departed faces as she sat at that table, for it was woven with memories deep and dear from better times.

500 years later, she found little changed save the faces and the wear upon the tables and floor. Sailors were still sailors and the sea was ever the sea. And though the prestige of the Guild had diminished noticeably during the reign of Ancalime, still captains and crews drank and spun tales of the deep. Returning mariners were welcomed with a round and open ears, while those outgoing were farewelled by those staying ashore. Now, though many griped of their hardships and the lot of mariners in Númenor, none would have changed their craft, for all had been called to the sea.

"So, thou were finally heard by the Queen?" Falmandil asked as Helluin took the offered seat and a mug was brought. "Surely the delivery of thy message took long enough. At least she finally opened her ears."

Helluin took a swig, finding ale in her cup. "Tar-Ancalime marked not a word I said, though she heard enough to send me thither at once," she revealed, "yet my warnings were delivered and more besides."

The Captain looked at her with some confusion and Helluin explained.

"While the Queen contemplated the gravity of the colors yet to grace her nails, I spent two and a half years instructing the Heir." Here the captain gave an approving nod and a smile shaped his features. His men grinned and softly stamped their boots in agreement with her course and guile. "I trust that in the future the fortunes of the Guild and those in Middle Earth shalt move more closely together. Anarion is a noble man who cares much for both Númenor and her place within Arda. Unlike the Queen, he feels not that thy fate is a fate apart. He sees a wider vista and embraces it."

"Yet he is not a mariner," one of the officers observed, though not unkindly.

"He is not a mariner, true," Helluin agreed before taking another pull of ale, "and yet his spirit is intrepid. Upon the sea of knowledge hath he embarked, and in a ship of study he doth seek after discovery. In heart thou art more alike than not. I deem that when the time comes he shalt relish his excursions upon the waves. Some fine captain should stand ready to welcome him aboard in good company."

Falmandil nodded at the sentiment. Helluin's news was hopeful.

"Should I still ply the waves in his time, I would be honored to welcome the next king to my ship, but more likely that shalt be the honor of my son in his time," Falmandil said. "We can only 'wait the day and see. I sense that Ancalime shalt clasp tight the reins of her reign so long as her fingers have strength to grasp."

"Undoubtedly that shalt be so," Helluin agreed. She shook her head disapprovingly and muttered, "were that I had been here to take that sour child over my knee."

The captain and his men, whose eyes at first widened at her blasphemy, recovered and shook with laughter. Then they raised their glasses and drank together and their spirits rose before the coming journey.

Early the next day _Linte Eari _was ready to sail, and the crew stood their stations aboard. Falmandil took his place upon the quarterdeck, the first mate and sailing master beside him, while the helmsman took the wheel. The master noted the sun's position, and seeing the time right, the wind fair, and the tide in its ebb flow, announced to the captain that the ship stood ready to be underway.

"Very well then," Falmandil ordered. "Master, take her out."

"Cast off all lines," ordered the first mate at the sailing master's nod. The deck hands loosed the ship's lines from their cleats and tossed them down to the men upon the wharf.

"Lo'r the fore top 'n stays'l…two points to starb'rd…steady for she goes," the sailing master called to the crew.

Upon the foremast the rectangular topsail broke, fluttering white like a seabird's wing as it fell from the yardarm and the lines hauled it taut. Then it bellied in the breeze and _Linte Eari_ edged forward, gaining a little way. Ahead of the mast the triangular fore staysail stretched and filled as it too caught air and the turn to starboard became more pronounced. The helmsman spun the wheel, the rudder shifted, and the ship nosed away from the dock toward the outbound harbor lane.

Helluin had stood in the bow watching the quay as the lines were cast off and the ship began to move. The Fast Seas fairly pulled as if eager to be upon the open ocean. Quickly her speed increased from a crawl to a walking pace, then faster still, until she outpaced the boys waving as they ran down the dock beside her. She cleared the quay and completed the turn to starboard, heading east and entering the lane leading out into the firth that stood inland of the Bay of Romenna.

"Haul lively men, tops'ls 'n courses," the Master called, and the sailors leapt to the lines.

Upon the main and mizzen masts the topsails joined the one already lowered on the foremast. _Linte Eari _pulled at the water and her bow rose in answer as her speed increased. Then the great courses unfurled on the fore and main masts and the ship leapt ahead. She rode down the lane toward the open water of the bay, and somewhere a sailor broke into song. As the first foam grew at her bow cut the lone sailor's voice was joined by many more, and with high hearts the crew drove their ship out towards the sea.

Now three gulls circled in and followed the ship's wake, and their cries were greeted with a cheer for they were a good omen. Though they loved their homes, the crew lived to ply the sea, and the further from land the mariners went the more these Men felt alive.

"Clear lane and fine water ahead," called the lookout from the main top, a talan high upon the mainmast above the sails.

The sailing master gave his captain a look, a brow raised in question, familiar to both from many voyages. Falmandil glanced about the deck, at the Meneltarma towering behind and then at the gulls flying escort, and finally he grinned and nodded to the sailing master.

"Give'r her head," Falmandil said.

"Jib 'n stays'ls," the Master ordered. "Step lively men, lo'r the miz'n s'l."

Four more sails bloomed from bow to stern in rapid succession, the first a triangle above the bowsprit, then two more between the masts, and the last a tall rectangle behind the mizzen. Again _Linte Eari_ gained speed. The _Numenya Viava_**¹**, Breath of the Valar, blew stronger yet as if abetting the Men's joy in their speed. Off the land behind the ship it sang amongst the lines and bellied the sails. The firth widened and Helluin could feel the ship pulling like a horse impatient to gallop, surging ahead down the wind.

**¹**(**Numenya Viava, _"West Wind", númen_** (west + **-_ya_** western) +** _vaiva_** (wind), lit. trans. "Western Wind", Quenya)

Foam leapt at the prow and a mate called out, "Run'n 18 knots, Lord Captain."

"Fine 'n steady she goes," the Sailing Master cried, and the crew heard the praise in the timbre of his voice.

"20 knots, Lord Captain," the mate reported, and Helluin could hear the excitement in his voice. In _Linte Eari's _wake the gulls fell behind and finally turned back to shore with cries of farewell. Ten white sails filled with the breath of the West Wind floated above the hull like clouds marching 'neath the bright morning sun. And from between the peninsulas of Orrostar and Hyarrostar, the fast ship of Númenor rode out onto the Bay of Romenna.

To Be Continued


	16. In An Age Before Chapter 16

**In An Age Before – Chapter 16**

_People see others as they are equipped to perceive them, both their good and bad. Who or what was Iarwain -Ben-adar? Were the hobbits really preceptive enough to form a full impressin of this strange entity? And what of Goldberry?_

_In Chapter 16 Helluin meets an old acquiantance and joins a company of Green Elves for a strange dinner party._**

* * *

**

**Chapter Fourteen**

_**Lindon and Eregion, Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

_Linte Eari _delivered Helluin safely to Mithlond in nine days, for the journey measured 'nigh on 1,900 sea miles and the winds had wavered somewhat mid-passage. Still the ship had averaged over eleven knots…all day, every day.

At the Grey Havens Helluin had been met by Cirdan and Elrond, who greeted her warmly after her absence of 135 years, but the dour look on her face quashed any hope of good news. She'd said little at the havens, but had made it clear that they needed to speak with the king. Falmandil and his officers rode with them to Lindon for their meeting with Gil-galad. Also to the High King's Halls came many of the remaining lords of the Noldor and Sindar, harkening to Helluin's audience. It was 20th Cerveth, (July 20th), S.A. 1128.

Since she had left on the king's errand in S.A. 992, more had been heard in Lindon of the growing evil of the times, but none had known truly how dire their plight had grown. Her report was the gravest tidings to have come to them in an Age. To say that all were horrified at her words would have been as calling the Arnoediad a setback. Helluin's descriptions of what she had seen appeared before the minds of Eldar and mortal alike, and as she spoke the horror of the Black Land became a vision of the doom to come.

While the Númenóreans had stood listening to all that was said, the shadow of horror grew on them as the deeds of Sauron Gorthaur were recounted by those who had fought him aforetime. The lore of Westernesse identified his part on Morgoth's behalf, but the horror of him had not been represented near strongly enough. Among the people of Elros Tar-Minyatur, Sauron was mainly a name, the underling of the Dark Enemy of the First Age. He was a cruel and malicious enemy, but only one among many. Beyond Morgoth himself, their hatred had been given more to the Yrch and the Easterlings. Only Sauron's deeds in the Tale of Beren and Luthien recounted him for condemnation among Morgoth's other lieutenants.

Ever had Sauron had been a more real and present tormentor to the Elves. Their lore and memories of the First Age were much more extensive and their experiences with Sauron much more painful. None had forgotten the horror with which he'd filled the Pass of Sirion, his cadres of werewolves, or the specters of his sorcery amidst the Ered Wethrin. The slaying of Finrod Felagund of Nargothrond and many others they laid upon him. And whereas one such as Gothmog was wont to overwhelm a foe by strength of arms, Sauron reveled in breaking the spirit, crushing hopes, and bringing despair.

To Helluin's revelations at court that Sauron was again gathering power, the Men of Númenor added that their current sovereign had little care for their plight. No aid should the Eldar look for from Westernesse during the reign of Tar-Ancalime. In her policies she was the opposite of her father, Tar-Aldarion, who had loved both ships and the Hither Lands, and had ever been staunch in his support of Gil-galad. These were sore tidings to the High King and to all that listened. The only grace seemed to be that Helluin had made clear the fact that Sauron's power was not yet full wrought, nor would he be ready to strike in the near future.

As was the custom, Gil-galad's court proceeded to debate in counsel all that had been heard. Many lords had their say and many questions were asked, not only concerning Mordor, but of the world at large. Yet save to acknowledge the presence of a great threat, nothing was decided for certain, and Helluin's own words combined with the hesitancy of Númenor made procrastination all the easier. Sauron would not be ready to chance a war to dominate Middle Earth for some time yet, and to defend against him, alliances would need to be forged. At Helluin's suggestion that Khazad-dum be approached for aid, many of the Elves voiced opposition. Not since the Nirnaeth Arnoediad 1,272 years before had Elf and Dwarf stood together in battle, and between those days and the present stood the sack of Doriath, the murder of Elu Thingol, and the slaughter of the Host of Nogrod.

"Yet the Naugrim of Gabilgathol were staunch allies in the Arnoediad," Helluin had protested, "and scions of that host now reside in Khazad-dum. I myself have fought at their side in the Hithaeglir. Lord Elwe was long ago avenged and Tumunzahar defeated ere it was broken in the change of the world. The House of Durin now stands in league of friendship with Ost-In-Edhil."

But while some of the lords acknowledged the truth of her words, their counsels were for that time unmoved by them and no decision was reached. So it remained for many years afterwards that no union or alliance was made to oppose Sauron, but rather all lived in an uneasy peace under a cloud of impending doom.

Now Falmandil and his crew returned to Númenor, and for a time, Helluin resided in Lindon. And as was ever the case amongst the Elves in Middle Earth, the years passed all too quickly. Oft times Helluin would stand in some high place upon the Ered Luin to the south or to the north of the Firth of Lune, straining her Elven sight to its limits upon the vistas of Eriador. Yet days passed under sun and cloud and nights passed under moon and star. Seasons came and went. Winds blew and rains fell and rivers ran to the sea.

At times Helluin would spy the sails of ships out of Númenor coming up the bay to Mithlond, and then she would come to the city and hear what news was brought by the mariners out of the west. Yet for decades that word was much the same. Tar-Ancalime ruled. Anarion raised his family and the Guild of Venturers continued to sail to their havens upon the Hither Shores. Some work went forward in Umbar and Vinyalonde, the harvesting of timber and some refitting of ships for the most part, but little effort was made at expansion or the strengthening of masonry. They were a toehold in Middle Earth only; sites from which the Númenóreans could teach those they met and acquire raw materials. They had few fortifications and almost no walls, and they were as yet only sparsely manned. Somehow they had persisted through the limbo of Tar-Ancalime's reign, mirroring the retraction of the Númenórean interest in the Hither Lands that had begun under Tar-Aldarion, but was now preserved by the Guild of Venturers alone.

One afternoon in Lothron, (May), of S.A. 1187, Helluin was summoned to counsel by the High King, and she met him in his chambers in Lindon. Gil-galad was troubled by a visit the previous day from a messenger who spoke for a great lord unknown to him, and though he had perceived some shadow upon that envoy, he hadn't been able to pinpoint the reason why. Now he sought counsel with the eldest of the Noldor attached to his court, for she had traveled widely and might recognize the message or the messenger.

"My Lord," Helluin greeted Ereinion with a dip of her head, "I hath arrived as quickly as possible at thy summons. I was some leagues north when thy messenger found me. Pray pardon the delay."

The king waved away her apology and gave her a weak smile. He poured them each a goblet of wine and handed one to Helluin ere he spoke, then gestured to a tray of seeded cakes to offer a repast. Helluin reached for a cake but her attention remained on the king. She could easily see that he was troubled. Worry and indecision sat on his brow like a rain cloud. For a moment he regarded her closely while taking a sip from his cup.

"I am glad of thy presence, Helluin," Gil-galad said, "and I would hath thy counsel. At dawn yesterday a lone messenger came hither and requested audience. I met with him in the Hall of Swans. He was a comely Man, pale haired as the sons of Hador of old, and yet not of their kindred. Nor was he of Númenórë. He spoke Sindarin with courtesy but with a mien I deem born of some sense of superiority, though not expressed in haughtiness of manner. Rather it was as of one knowing some secret unguessed, or a gamesman holding in his hand some trump. He spoke fair on behalf of his master, a great Lord unknown to me out of the east, and he sought to arrange a parlay of alliance."

For several moments, Helluin stared at the High King in silence, digesting his account.

"Thou art High King of the Noldor and Lord of the Eldar of Eriador, at least in the west of this country," she said at last, "does it not make sense that one on such an errand should come to thee?"

"I suppose it does, and that alone would not arouse any suspicions on my part. What I question is the feeling that came upon me as I conversed with this messenger. I felt a shiver, as it were a draft, chill upon my spirit, and upon this messenger I sensed some shadow. Naught of his words or actions could I point to in offense, nor in any way did he stoop to threat or bribe, yet still my heart misgives me of him, or his errand, or his master. Know thou any lord by the name of Annatar?"

Again Helluin paused before answering. She had never heard of anyone during her travels claiming such a grandiose name. More disturbing was the king's reaction to the messenger. _As a fair but threadbare cloak poorly hiding one hosting plague lice this messenger seems_, she thought, _and if Ereinion distrusts him in his heart, then it seems folly to treat with his master who may host the plague itself._

"My King, never hath I heard tidings of any lord calling himself Annatar," Helluin said, "in any quarter to which I hath ever come in this Age or any other. That name, Lord of Gifts, speaks of one well pleased with his own subtlety and appraising himself possessed of boons to be bestowed at his own discretion and conferred for his own gain. To what end, I wonder, does his servant offer parlay of alliance? Against whom would such an alliance stand? With what other allies would we join?"

Gil-galad regarded her answer with serious attention. Her reactions mirrored his own concerns and her questions were those he had asked himself.

"Helluin, this envoy named no enemies and indeed gave few details about his master or his affairs. He asked most after the willingness of the Eldar to work with his master to enrich and elevate Middle Earth in despite of the Valar. He claimed that his master possessed great finesse and subtlety of craft, and strove in hope of staving off the world's decay and creating a realm in Endóre to rival Aman. I believe he hopes to enlist such of the Eldalië as he can in this enterprise."

At this, Helluin raised an eyebrow in consternation. Raise a realm on the Hither Shores to rival the majesty of the Undying Lands? The Noldor had sought to beautify their realms, often in imitation of Tirion itself, something that she as a wanderer had always deemed a whimsy. Indeed this had been her reaction upon first seeing Tirion itself, thinking it an imitation of Valmar. Such was not in itself bad, merely, she judged, a self-delusion. The truest beauty lay in the creations of the Valar…the comely attributes of the natural world itself as seen in star, sky, cloud, tree, and living beast. But to seek to hold at bay the dimming and failing of things in the Mortal Lands? Such power was not granted to the Firstborn Children of Iluvatar, for they were within Arda and a part of it, created of its substance, not made to alter it. This Annatar sounded as if his intention was to enflame the Noldor to challenge the Valar! Sadly, she feared that his words would find a receptive audience.

"Such aspirations reek of rebellion against the Powers and the One," Helluin said in a heated declaration, "and such an appeal shalt tempt many, especially amongst the Noldor. Ever do our people hope and strive, learning and creating what they can, yet wondering not if they should. Such was the trap that befell Feanor, taking and holding with his craft that which was wrought by a craft far greater than his own. Had he not aspired to possess the Light of Yavanna Kementari's Trees, then never would the Silmarils hath been made, nor his Oath and the Curse troubled our people. Now this Annatar seeks to entice with fair words, and leading us hence, usurp the Way of Arda, life and death and the fading hand of time, which art the prerogative of the Valar and Eru Iluvatar who first created them. Harken not to this messenger, My King, and trust not this lord."

In truth Gil-galad was somewhat taken aback by the vehemence of Helluin's discourse. It implied a monstrous intent on Annatar's part to enmesh the Eldar in a dark course that would estrange them from the Powers Undying, perhaps for all time. Though he didn't fully believe all the ramifications of her argument, his own misgivings in addition to hers made up his mind. He would not treat with this lord nor would he receive again his messenger. No alliance would be formed between Lindon and the Lord of Gifts.

"My King, I would advise thee if I may," Helluin said, drawing the High King from his thoughts, "that thou dispatch messages to Eregion and Khazad-dum. Warn them against this Lord of Gifts. Warn them of our misgivings. To their ears in particular would his offers be most enticing and to their counsels would this Annatar's intentions most appeal. In my heart, I fear for them in the face of this temptation."

She was thinking in particular of Celebrimbor, a Noldo predisposed to aspiring toward conquering challenges and advancing his craft. The Lord of Gifts offered possibilities and goals that she doubted he could resist. She herself had seen how the creation of the Sarchram had inspired him to elevate his people's knowledge of metalwork and design a process hitherto unknown, the empowering of a weapon with the _fea_. And Celebrimbor was a descendant of Feanor. The situation had all the makings of a potential disaster.

Gil-galad thought on her words, and while he had trouble believing that her doubts were wholly founded, he understood the nature of her concerns. But Ost-In-Edhil was under the leadership of Celeborn and Galadriel, and few in Middle Earth were wiser rulers. If he had felt immediate distrust of Annatar's messenger, then they would no doubt react even more insightfully. He suspected Annatar would find no welcome in Eregion. If not Celeborn, than certainly Galadriel would quash any inroads that might open a path to the rebellion that Helluin so fervently feared. The daughter of Finarfin would never again be taken in by the offspring of Miriel.

"If thou in truth feel the necessity of warning Galadriel against the ambitions of the son of Curufin, then I shalt send forth a messenger as thou request. Yet 'tis doubtful, I deem, that the daughter of Earwen of Alqualonde should countenance yet again a rebellion by the House of Feanor, or indulge any sacrilege by her people against the Valar."

To this Helluin nodded in agreement…in principle. But when last she had stayed at Ost-In-Edhil she had sensed the rule of Celeborn and Galadriel there to be a reign founded on shallow and shifting sands. The real power in Eregion had been Celebrimbor and his Gwanin-I-Mirdain…and the Guild of Jewel Smiths had probably only increased its influence in the last 195 years. When she finally left the High King's presence she had deep misgivings about the future of Eregion. She just hoped that whatever happened, it wouldn't bring irrevocable harm to her friends, Celeborn, Galadriel, Celebrimbor, and the Naugrim of Khazad-dum.

Thereafter Helluin spent little time within the confines of Lindon, but rather wandered in Eriador again, going thither and yon as her heart led her. In that time she met at whiles with wandering companies of Sindar and of the Laiquendi, refugees of Beleriand who also made their way about that land. She would, for a season, travel in the company of one band or another, yet eventually she would wander off on her own way, solitary as she had spent much of her life, living off the land and keeping company with its creatures. Upon such a time she found herself in a forested precinct, east 'nigh the Baranduin, and north of Sarn Athrad, yet still west of the South Downs. It was an old wood, deep and thick and filled with ancient trees, and Helluin had thought it a fine place for a refuge of Onodrim. There was something timeless about this place that Helluin readily sensed, and having no other commitments, she had granted herself leave to explore it at length. She had already spent the summer there, slowly walking northwards at her leisure from the Road to the south.

It was another peaceful afternoon, 23 Ivanneth, (September 23rd), S.A. 1261, and warm yellow sunlight filtered through the canopy of whispering leaves overhead. Insects buzzed lazily all about, flitting dragonflies, painted butterflies, and metallic beetles among them, while a small stream happily murmured in its passing near her feet. The setting was idyllic and Helluin was content, though for some time she had realized that there others not overly far away. This was acceptable to her for these others were also of Elven kind, probably Green Elves, she thought, more quiet than the Sindar, and more at home in dense woods. Indeed they were a presence more felt than heard. She doubted that they were some of those few Men of Eriador, distant kin of the Edain who had remained east of the Ered Luin during the First Age, for they lived mostly away to the north and west around the headwaters of the Baranduin and Lake Nenuial, and they avoided the deep forest. If her path crossed that of the Laiquendi it would be fine, if not, then that would be fine as well. She maintained her seat as another hour passed.

Nearby a pair of large tufted-eared squirrels tirelessly chased each other in spirals around the trunk of a tulip poplar. She could almost sense the tall tree stifling a giggle at the tickling sensation of their tiny claws clasping in sure purchase on its furrowed bark. At the stream's edge a sodden margin yielded a home to iris and a stand of cattails as yet unripe, all overhung by the trailing tendrils of the willow she leaned against. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled at the presence of a stranger drawing near. _Middle Earth grows crowded if even in such a wayside place as this there are visitors to be had, _Helluin mused_, but at least these feel fair rather than foul. Ahhh well, this place is theirs as much as mine._

It seemed only a few moments later when, in a strangely familiar way, the shadows between the boles across the stream gave birth to a figure dressed all in greens. It was as though he simply resolved from the surroundings rather than drew near through them. _Green Elf, _Helluin observed_, for no others share quite the same affinity with their surroundings._ He approached at ease and finally stood among the irises a couple fathoms away, looking Helluin over with an observant gaze that took in the whole of his surroundings as well as the details of her presence. It was the second-nature glance of a lifelong woodsman.

"My greetings on this fine day, friend," Helluin said in Sindarin, "thou art welcome to share the peace of this place if thou art so inclined. 'Tis long since last we met."

"'Tis long indeed, Helluin of the Host of Finwe," the Green Elf said, casually stepping across the freshet and joining her under the willow. It had been almost 1,270 years. He remained standing before her at first. "Much hast changed since last we met…even unto the very shape of these lands. But how hath thou fared? Surely many paths hast thou trod since I found thee in the company of Maedhros and Maglor."

"Much hast changed indeed," Helluin agreed, sitting up more attentively and crossing her legs, "and many roads hath I followed, even crossing the sea." At the question spoken only by his raised brow she added, "Nay, not unto Aman, but to Númenor of the Dúnedain. But what of thee? The tale of thy years since our last meeting is as long as mine. And after all this time, I should be pleased at last to know thy name." She finished with a grin, happy to note that it was easily returned.

The Green Elf sat down facing her 'neath the willow, and set aside his bow and quiver to take more comfort in his ease. He had noted Helluin's sword and bow leaning against the trunk, her travel bag and quiver on the ground beside them. For a moment the gleaming ring at her waist and the fell words etched upon its face caught his attention. After a moment he blinked and returned his mind to the conversation.

"I pray thy pardon for not introducing myself at our last meeting," he apologized, "I am Dálindir**¹**, second son of Denethor, son of Lenwe."

**¹**(**Dálindir, _Shadow Singer,_** **_dae_ **(shadow) + **_lin- _**(sing) + **_-dir_** (male agent) Sindarin)

For a moment Helluin sat digesting the family connections. Dálindir was Lenwe's grandson and she wondered if the King of Belfalas knew of his whereabouts, or for that matter whether or not he lived at all. Of course the reverse was also true. Neither might know aught of the other, sundered as they were since at least the First Age.

"Well met then, Dálindir," Helluin said, "and for thee I hath some good tidings. In my journeys upon Middle Earth I hath twice met thy kin. Yon Hithaeglir amidst a forest of golden mellyrn doth rule thy cousin, Lenwin son of Lenwer, while upon the southern coasts of Belfalas still rules thy grandsire, King Lenwe. When last I visited their realms, both were hale and the lords of many folk."

Dálindir sat in silence for a long time, simply staring off into space. Helluin sat by patiently, allowing him time to absorb what had obviously been profound and unexpected revelations. At last the Green Elf took a deep and shuddering breath and cast his gaze upon Helluin again. He managed a smile despite being shaken.

"My deepest thanks for thy tidings, Helluin," he said before pausing to swallow and struggle with his composure. "Denethor, my father, was slain ere the rising of the sun and moon, embattled upon Amon Ereb in the first war of Beleriand which hath no name. My elder brother was slain there too in battle. I myself was but still young and went not to war. Later, though I claimed no crown, I was held lord of those who went not to Doriath, and afterwards I bore to Dior Eluchil a treasure out of Tol Galen. But of the lands east of the Ered Lindon I had no knowledge. The name of Lenwe has been only that to me, a name I had heard for someone from a past I knew not, while of Lenwin I had no knowledge whatsoever. And now thou say indeed that I hath living, beyond any hope, two of close kinship. Pray tell me what thou can, Helluin." He wiped his eyes and sat awaiting such tidings as she could share.

He had probably been born in Beleriand ere the return of Morgoth, Helluin thought, never knowing any lands beyond his own. And so Dálindir had no knowledge of his living relatives, nor they of him, she guessed, for neither Lenwin nor Lenwe had mentioned him, nor had either asked for tidings of him. Yet he was, and for 'nigh on 2,000 years had been, the rightful king of all the remaining Laiquendi. Small wonder then that he had been entrusted, upon the passing of Luthien the Fair, to convey the Nauglamir to Thingol's Heir in Menegroth. Here was one who had held a Silmaril and resisted its temptations…and thereby escaped its curse. She felt a wave of happiness for the boon of tidings gifted by her travels. Her knowledge would lighten many hearts.

For the rest of the afternoon they sat by a small stream some called the Withywindle, 'neath the boughs of a young willow, and Helluin told Dálindir of all she had seen. He sat, for the most part in silence and oft would a smile shape his lips as he listened. Eventually he produced a wineskin and shared out a vintage from the vineyards about Lake Nenuial, a light and fruity drink with an earthy undertone. Helluin found it very enjoyable. The sun passed from above, down into the west, and the shadows lengthened 'neath the trees. To their rest went the squirrels and the birds and the day flying insects. Now crickets chirped, moths fluttered, and bats flittered in pursuit overhead. Helluin finished her tale with a sigh. Dálindir finished the wine. It had been a good day.

"Never had I thought at this morn's opening that by this eve my world would be thus enriched," Dálindir said at last. "Now as night doth fall, I would thy company request, for I am due with some few of my folk, to sup with friends who dwell'th 'nigh. Join us, I pray thee, for thy tidings hath thou freely shared, and great they hath been, yet I too hath somewhat of the times to share." As he spoke, Dálindir waxed grim, thinking on what he had recently seen and heard.

"I shalt be pleased to accept thy invitation, Dálindir," Helluin replied, "and if thy host be willing, share thence thy board. What tidings thou hast I should very much like to hear."

The Green Elf nodded at her and rose to his feet. They gathered their possessions and weapons, while from the surrounding forest three more of the Laiquendi materialized. They had waited in patient silence, invisible amidst the woods, throughout the afternoon's conversation, never giving a clue as to their presence, yet remaining close at hand. They were dressed in varied greens, much as they had been aforetime in Ossiriand, and carried bows and quivers and knives at their belts. Now they came to stand behind Dálindir as he gestured to his companions and introduced them.

"Helluin of the Host of Finwe, meet now my friends, Beinvír, Gérorn, and Celegaras, our scout."

Helluin nodded to each. Beinvír**¹**, a slender elleth of less than medium height, with sharp, bright eyes and dark wavy hair met her glance with the hint of a grin on her lips and returned her nod.

**¹**(**Beinvír,_ "Fair Treasure", bein _**(fair) + **_mír_** (treasure) Sindarin)

Greetings and well met at last, Helluin," Gérorn**¹** said, winking and offering her a smile. Helluin found herself liking the large Elf immediately, sensing a hidden mirth that enlivened his strange copper striated eyes. "I hath long hoped to meet thee in less shifty company." Here he glanced directly at Dálindir who suppressed a chuckle in response, knowing full well that his companion had meant the sons of Feanor despite where his attention had rested.

**¹**(**Gérorn, _"Coppery Tree", goer_** (copper colored) + **_orn_** (large tree) Sindarin)

"Well met again, Helluin of the Noldor," Celegaras**¹** said, quickly glancing down at Dálindir with honest affection, "'tis good tidings thou hast proffered this day, and glad we are to see Dálindir rejoicing thus." He was very tall, slim, and older, Helluin noted, and seemed concerned for his king as would an elder brother. Helluin offered him a smile, appreciating his caring heart. After the deaths of his father and older brother, it was good to know that Dálindir had the benefit of someone's counsel and support.

**¹**(**Celegaras, _"Swift Deer", celeg_** (swift, agile) + **_aras_** (deer) Sindarin)

"We should proceed hence," Dálindir announced after a moment, "for 'tis a couple miles to the source of the Withywindle and I fear we shalt arrive late for supper."

"Not that our host cares aught for time," Beinvír remarked cryptically as she fell in beside Gérorn making the sharp contrast in their statures all the more evident. The top of her head reached barely the middle of his chest.

Helluin gave Dálindir a questioning glance, but the Green Elf was looking ahead, upstream, with the hint of a grin on his face. Helluin chose not to pursue the matter for the present, rather choosing her footing with care to remain silent as did her companions.

Of habit the Laiquendi walked so softly and in such subconscious harmony with their surroundings that Helluin felt like an oaf at the least report of her footsteps. As expected, none of them spoke while moving, and even the night animals marked not their passing. For all intents they were invisible, and at times Helluin feared to lose track of one or more of the company. She resolved to keep a sharp eye on them lest they disappear on her without meaning to. Helluin was even tempted to clasp hands with Dálindir, who walked at her side, having more than once glanced at him just to reassure herself that he was still there. Even more than the Avari, who could remain invisible in the forest at need, the Laiquendi had perfected stealth beyond a fine art. It was certainly instinctive now, unconscious and effortless. Neither their approach, nor presence, nor retreat could be marked unless they chose it to be so. How they kept track of each other, she hadn't a clue. Sure enough, after the better part of an hour, Celegaras disappeared. Dálindir held up a hand to stop them and only then did Helluin note his absence.

"He hast gone ahead to check on…things," he whispered to her after seeing her search the gloom in vain for the scout. The others relaxed and waited. In the near distance, they could hear the gentle falling of waters as on a steep downslope.

Suddenly there was a cry and a splash, followed closely by loud raucous laughter. It was just the type of thing to make a person start and swallow their tongue. Being a warrior, Helluin reacted on instinct. When Helluin recovered from her flinch, she suddenly found herself standing alone in the dark beside the Withywindle, Anguirel in one hand, the Sarchram in the other. The Green Elves had disappeared. With a groan she sheathed her arms and waited. Whatever had happened, there was now the sound of someone approaching, and this someone cared nothing for stealth. Indeed a constant train of merry nonsense verse was being loudly sung in time to the careless tramp of boots. After a moment, Helluin detected the shuffling stride of another in company with the singer, though this person didn't join in the song and their irregular footfalls reported that they were very nearly being dragged along. Helluin waited, there being nothing else to do. She expected to soon see a very drunk Man, or perhaps an even more drunk Elf.

The singer practically burst into her presence round a bend, singing merrily and dragging Celegaras with him by the belt. The tall scout was soaking wet to the knees and displayed a grimace tainted by the flush of intense embarrassment. He could barely meet Helluin's eyes. Helluin spared him any further humiliation because her attention was completely fixed on the new arrival.

Be this a large Dwarf bereft of mind, she wondered as she gawked at the stranger, or perchance a very short fat Man deep in his cups? Where in all Arda did he get those boots? Not even the mad cobbler of Ost-In-Edhil would create such outlandish clogs! And that hat? This song? By the Valar, has all this forest gone mad?

_Hey ba-lim-ba-laree-O!_

_The woods be dark and scary-O!_

_Yet why-yi-yi all hide-ee be!_

_Tra-la-la-la come out to me!_

Helluin could scarce but stare at the singer, whom, she noted, stood little taller than a Dwarf and much like them in girth, if not the more. He had a round face, apple red and jolly, with bright blue eyes 'neath bushy brows, all topped with abundant brown hair that seemed to have been struck by lightning, for it stood out affright. His beard hung down long like a Dwarf's and seemed to wag in counterpoint to the beat of his song. Indeed it sometimes appeared to be leading or conducting, as it were itself alive and governed by its own mind, and Helluin found that most disturbing. Upon his head he wore a conical hat of brown leather. It stood at least two feet high, carelessly patched, and the top appeared to have been smashed in. Its wide brim flapped in concert with his beard as he moved. A great blue feather was affixed to one side, the quill piercing the leather like a seamstress' needle. From what bird such a feather came, Helluin knew not. The rest of the stranger's clothing was as odd as his hat.

Somehow he had shoehorned his bulk into a bright blue coat, cut long to his knees, and featuring outlandishly broad lapels and many large pockets. It appeared uncomfortably tight, but seemed to hinder not his movements…and he was in constant movement. Indeed since appearing he had not for a moment ceased his stamping and tramping, his feet stomping, (rather than dancing actual steps), in an oversized pair of bright yellow boots. Helluin had the impression that thick as he was at the waist, from there down he was blessed with the legs and feet of someone even larger. His thighs were thick as her waist, encased in tight green pants, and his feet were well nigh a third longer than hers though he stood but little above her elbow. Helluin stared at him in undisguised shock and amazement. The entire time, his song continued with the likes of:

_Hey Dalind-ee in-dee in-dee--O!_

_Hop down! Come bring your folk-sees-Ho!_

_I see you in that tree you know!_

_Splash down to Tom a-Bombadillee-O!_

Upon the last line he seemed to give Helluin a wink, and then he snapped his fingers in a theatrical gesture. Behind her a tree's limbs suddenly went limp and first Beinvír and then Gérorn came tumbling out of the boughs and onto the path. They landed in a heap with a cry of dismay that soon gave way to giggles. A few feet away a second tree's boughs drooped, shedding Dálindir into the stream. He splashed into the water, barely managing to keep his feet beneath him. Helluin realized that Celegaras had met a similar fate further up the path and had been hauled here behind the bizarre Tom.

"Well now, I can see you all plainly," the strange character said, "don't you know you can't hide from ol' Tom?" His beard wagged at the Green Elf as if it were chastising him.

"We should know thus by now," Dálindir admitted, chuckling as he shook the water from his boots, "but one day we shalt sneak up on thee, or at least we shalt keep trying…we can sneak up on everyone else, thou know'st."

Tom shook his head, dismissing the Green Elf's claims with a laugh. This scene had obviously been played out before, Helluin realized, and no doubt to the same conclusion. She now had no less than several thousand questions. How did anyone so easily mark the presence of the Laiquendi? How had he commanded the branches to move? What tannery had achieved the color of his boots? Here was a new wonder to be understood, the greatest she had met with in quite some time.

Dálindir turned to her, seemingly amused at her incredulous expression.

"Helluin of the Host of Finwe, may I present Iarwain Ben-adar," he said, nodding to the odd singer, "our host. Of late he hast taken to naming himself Tom Bombadil."

The Green Elf shrugged. Helluin stared. Surely their host was the result of a flat note in the Song of the Ainur. Tom Bombadil laughed and then sang:

_Hey Dalin-dalin-da-lee!_

_Wilt you tarry here or follow me?_

_The table awaits us, leave behind the water._

_Hop on along and we'll join the river's daughter!_

Without a further word Tom Bombadil turned and went stomping back up the path, spinning to beckon them thither. Helluin looked at Dálindir and rolled her eyes. The Green Elf could only shrug and quickly follow the stranger. The other Laiquendi turned and followed their leader. Last of all, Helluin followed them. She noticed that the singsong melody was quickly growing fainter, at a rate far out of proportion to the speed the singer had displayed. She hastened after Dálindir and finally caught up with him, grabbing his arm and jerking him to a halt.

"Who…or what…was't that?" She demanded. "And doth he always act thus, as a jester, or one mindlost?" Dálindir spread his hands, not knowing at first how to answer. Helluin continued, "Iarwain Ben-adar means only_ Eldest, Without Father_, but in Sindarin, and that's probably the youngest of the Elven tongues. So why not _Yestanesse Ala-atar_**¹**? And _Bombadil_ doesn't mean anything I can figure out. Just tell me this. If he hast been around as long as his name seems to claim, how in Arda did he ever survive?"

**¹**(**Yestanesse Ala-atar**, **_yestanesse_** (firstborn) + **_ala-_** (without) +**_ atar_** (father) Quenya)

For some moments Dálindir simply looked at Helluin, trying to fathom her outburst. Tom Bombadil was certainly strange, but he was part of the landscape and reasoning him out was a waste of time, or so the Green Elf had come to believe. Maybe understanding was a more desperate need among the Noldor, he guessed. Dálindir had simply come to accept him as he was.

"Helluin, little do I know of Iarwain Ben-adar, for we hath met him but thrice ere tonight. Who or what he is I know not, nor from whence he came, save that he hath no evil, for I sense no darkness in him or in his beloved, the River Daughter. She at least is a nymph of the streams, or so I deem her, and hold'th some measure of power o'er creek and rain and mist and dew. Iarwain…" Here Dálindir faltered and fell silent a moment, composing his thoughts. "At each meeting twixt he and we, 'tis he that hath first come to us. We never take him at unawares, can never approach him in stealth; this alone I hold significant. Ere we first met long ago, and at oft times since, we hath passed his home and seen naught there. Indeed the land was untouched with no rumor of him to be seen. Yet in his company, we hath sat with him in a warm and jolly home. Come, Helluin, let us follow." He took her hand and began to usher her forward.

Shortly later they came to the headwaters of the Withywindle, were a small fall leapt in a narrow channel from the high downs to the east. Helluin thought its voice far louder than its volume warranted. Beside the stream a small vale opened, carpeted with a lush turf of short green grass. This lawn cloaked an uphill swell of land that dipped thence to a shallow ere it rose again nigh the downs. Upon the verge of the steep face leading up to the downs stood a hall, wide and many windowed, all lit within by a warm yellow light. On its left-hand rose a partial second story, while behind it on the right a large barn was visible over the low roofline. Beyond the house, the cliff seemed a cold and mundane backdrop.

The whole clearing was hemmed in on three sides by the forest, and it had an unearthly air about it that set Helluin's hair on end. All of it felt as a scene painted, too perfect and too still. Even the stone bordered path leading to the house seemed a flawless engraving upon the lawn, with nary a weed, a footprint, or a stone out of place. A glance behind her revealed the forest appearing "flattened", as it were some backdrop rendered upon a wall, detailed but artificial. Overhead the stars were very bright, and they twinkled not, and there was no moon. Upon the scene sat a profound timelessness, a reality more real than real, tinged with the sensorial taint she'd only felt before in the Undying Lands during the Age of the Trees. Helluin cast a questioning glance at Dálindir but he was already moving forward towards the house. After a sigh and a last look around, Helluin followed.

When they reached the front door it opened ere they knocked. The figure of a lithesome woman clad in silver appeared before them, smiling and bidding them enter with an elegant gesture of a hand. She introduced herself to Helluin as _Maldiaving_**¹**. Upon the threshold, they were shocked when Anguirel suddenly spoke.

**¹**(**Maldiaving**, **_Goldberry_**, **_mal(t) -d_** (gold) + **_iaving _**(small fruit; berry). Sindarin)

"Here I shalt not enter," the blade's cold voice declared, "but rather beside the doorpost shalt I await thy hand, O Helluin."

"And I as well," the Sarchram said, adding an ominous, "beware."

Iarwain appeared behind Goldberry and cocked his brow at the sword and the ring. He looked them over as if appraising a pair of contentious children, and being unlike the Laiquendi, not the least bit surprised to hear from them.

"On the doorstep let them park," he said, "and rest there merrily in the dark."

After a moment's consternation Helluin removed her weapons and set them beside the door. She looked carefully back down the path and into the forest, but there was no hint of anyone nearby save themselves.

"I'm sure they'll seek no trouble without thee," Goldberry told Helluin with a reassuring smile, "nor find aught of company save thine own. Come, the board is set."

With a last glance at her weapons, Helluin stepped across the threshold and into the house of Iarwain and Maldiaving. Behind her the door closed out the night as if it had never been, while within the long and low main hall, the warmth of a dozen lamps and a sweet-scented fire created a comfortable and lulling atmosphere. Beyond the wide hearth, a table had been set, with trestles at the sides and a chair at each end. Upon it were pitchers of milk, clear water, rounds of cheese, loaves with butter and honey, fruit, and nuts, all in abundance. It seemed the couple lacked not for sustenance.

Now ere the guests were seated for their meal, Iarwain beckoned them to follow him, and he took them up a flight of steps to the upper story they had seen from without. There they found he had set a washroom, with benches, basins, and pitchers of water, soap and towels, absorbent and thick. There too were bristles for cleaning boots and suede, and waxes for polishing leather and metals. There also were the brass chamber pots and commodes, and the urinals of glazed pottery next to an open window for the dumping. Helluin noted that he had also provided them with slippers to wear indoors. She looked askance at their bright colors, and their long and curling pointed toes. _He's to make jesters of us all it seems_, she thought, noting that at some point Tom had managed to don an outlandish orange pair with bells on the long two-pronged toe-tips,_ but I suppose lunacy loves company._ She couldn't think of when he'd had time to take off his boots, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"Here thou may put off thy daily grime," Iarwain told them, "for bringing thy road to the table is very nearly a crime."

When they rejoined their host and hostess in the dining room, Helluin had donned a pair of bright fuchsia slippers, being those with the shortest toes. She still felt like a dolt. The Green Elves seemed to mind not at all, having done thus aforetime, and soon they were all seated at the table, supping and drinking. Helluin noted that the clear water was strongly laced with an herbal stupefacient, and that some of the food was tainted with hallucinogenic fungi. She avoided both after discerning this, but noted that the others supped and drank freely and seemed unaffected for the present. Other than their host spontaneously breaking into song at times, it was a reasonably dignified affair, though once when Goldberry arose to fetch more bread, Helluin gaped her footwear. The River Daughter's feet were shrouded in what appeared to be white rabbit pelts, their pink ears perked upright over her insteps, bright eyes and sniffing noses before her toes, and cottontails wriggling behind her heels.

After all had eaten their fill, Iarwain and Maldiaving cleared the table and ushered their guests to a row of chairs placed before the hearth. Once there, Goldberry took a lantern and withdrew, bidding the guests good night and making her way into the rear of the house. Helluin noted again the sweetish scent of the fire and realized that bundles of poppies rather than logs were stacked upon the grate. Iarwain and the four Elves settled themselves before the fire to trade counsels and tidings.

At first it appeared that their host had dozed off after inhaling deeply for several minutes of the fumes, but he later added comments to their discourse and even some bursts of song. The Green Elves seemed merry enough, though not overly energetic. Helluin found herself relaxed, but if she closed her eyes and laid her head back in her chair she discerned a lulling, floating sensation that crept up and threatened to overwhelm her.

"Ahhh, I am ever at ease in this house, and welcome is the time spent 'neath thy roof, Master Iarwain," Dálindir said to their host, who only grunted in acknowledgment.

Beinvír seemed to be staring unseeing into the fire with Gérorn seated beside her slowly stroking her back with one massive hand. Celegaras had started filling a long-stemmed pipe with some pungent herbs from a small belt pouch and paid them no attention. Dálindir glanced at his preparations and chuckled.

He turned to Helluin and said, "To thee I hath somewhat to share of reports given to me by other wandering companies of my folk." His eyes darted back to see Celegaras drawing a stalk from the fireplace and lighting his pipe. The scout drew deeply and retained the smoke, savoring it before handing the bowl to his king who did likewise.

"Thou had said thus earlier, and grateful would I be for any tidings of Eriador thou might share," Helluin answered. In truth she was curious and had joined their company mostly to hear what he'd mysteriously referred to earlier. Dálindir passed the pipe to Helluin, stifling a cough. Helluin absently took the pipe and drew comfortably on it, noting the spicy taste of the herbs before handing it back. _Hmmm, not Galenas_, she thought.

"It hath come to me that some strange lord out of the east hast been afoot in these lands of late," the Green Elf said, puffing again on the pipe and handing it thence to Gérorn. "He hath passed back and forth through the land for many years ere he came to Eregion. It seems that he hath since taken up residence in Ost-In-Edhil as some manner of counselor or patron of crafts. Word is that he hath indeed grown close in counsels with Celebrimbor and the Guild of Jewel Smiths."

Helluin sat absorbing his news far more calmly than she would have expected. To assure herself of her suspicions she asked, "Dálindir, hath this lord a name?"

"A name and fame and the stain of shame. Hi-ho the derry-Oh. The derry, scary, hairy-Ho!" Iarwain contributed in a mindless sing-song without opening his eyes. Helluin stared at him for a moment. His beard was gently twitching. Again she found it upsetting.

"Word is that this lord names himself Annatar," Celegaras said, tapping the ashes from the pipe into the hearth and setting to work packing the bowl afresh with another bolus of herb. "And a strange sort he is too from reports."

Helluin groaned at the confirmation of her fears. The Lord of Gifts had found welcome after all in the City of the Elves with the grandson of Feanor. She had suspected such would come to pass. The two were fairly made for each other. Her glance strayed to see Beinvír and Gérorn in a lusty lip lock, the woman straddling the large Elf's lap. With a sigh she asked after further details.

"Whence came this Annatar to Eregion?"

"'Tis said he came thither from Lindon but a few years past, having been dismissed from service as artificer to Gil-galad the king," Dálindir told her. The timing was bad. Helluin had just held the pipe. She choked out a great lungful of smoke and then broke down in a fit of gagging and coughing. Celegaras chuckled.

When she had finally mastered herself, Helluin said, "'Tis either then that Gil-galad hath reversed his counsels or Annatar doth speak untrue, for when last I had his ear, the king had resolved to treat not with this Lord of Gifts." After a pause she muttered to herself, "I should go thither to Lindon and ask after the truth of this."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire. Believe not a word, from his mouth that is heard," Iarwain offered, finally opening his eyes and looking directly at Helluin. "Never the truth in the past passed his lips…nay, not if a lie he could pass."

Helluin regarded the host a moment before asking, "Know thou this Annatar, Iarwain?"

"Me, thou, and all about. Slow to be forgotten, is one so deeply rotten," he answered.

To the questioning look in Helluin's eyes, Iarwain drew himself upright in his chair and began to speak. His voice was musical, hypnotic, his words spoken in rhyme, and ere long the Elves, Noldo and Laiquendi alike fell 'neath his spell. Long he spoke, spinning out his tale, back into the First Age of the Sun, from whence he drew forth images of Beleriand consumed in war. Fire and battle appeared before their eyes, deceit and cruelty and many traitors' lies. Evil and darkness, spirits broken and souls tortured, bodies of thralls, kingdoms fallen in ruin, and the coming of the Amanyar. Back further he went, into the years of starlight ere the moon and sun, back to the noontide of Doriath and beyond. Back to Nan Elmoth where Melian the Maia captured the heart of Elwe, and then back to the long years of peace ere the Quendi had come west. In the dark, under the old stars, ere the Fathers of the Dwarfs had awakened in the mountains and the Onodrim walked the woods he took them; back to the time when the powers had broken Udûn, Utumno, Melkor's first fortress in the north. With Iarwain as guide they saw the first lights of Arda, Illuin and Ormal, the great lamps which had lit Ea while the Valar still dwelt in Middle Earth.

_**And in that time a spirit great,** _

_Of Aule's people grew filled with hate, _

_For his heart's desire had been withheld, _

_And by his lust from grace 'twas felled._

_**By Manwe's fallen brother sought,** _

_And with promises his service bought, _

_A faithful liege 'til the end of times, _

_Most willing accomplice in his crimes._

_**With powers he was gifted then,**_

_And in Melkor's service grew in sin,_

_'Til the Powers doth laid his master low,_

_And he fled north to hide in snow._

_**The Ages passed in Arda dark,**_

_The servants of his lord he sought,_

_And ruled all evil in his master's name,_

_'Til at last pardoned Melkor came,_

_**Then Bauglir's power rose again,**_

_And in Angband his liege came to him,_

_And aided him in all his wars,_

_A mighty tormentor of his thralls._

_**Now many here have known his name,**_

_And many suffered for his fame,_

_With cunning lies, and sorcery,_

_Advanced his cause through cruelty._

_**And now he gathers strength again,**_

_For the bonds of his master mastered him,_

_Of Melkor's lieutenants the last of all,_

_The Thrallmaster still his master's thrall._

In the hearth the fire popped, scattering a shower of sparks. Helluin blinked and looked around. The lamps had burned down low, and the room was dim. The Laiquendi appeared to have dozed off in their chairs for they were in repose and motionless. From his chair, Iarwain's bright eyes regarded her closely and Helluin met his gaze.

Only from a few of the Undying in Aman had she heard accounts of the days before days ere the first of the Eldar had awakened in Cuivienen. To hear such from one in Middle Earth now was shocking, yet no less shocking than his words. Iarwain Ben-adar had recited the life story of Sauron the Maia, eclipsing all the Eldar knew of him in a few verses. Had he really seen that of which he spoke? Had he really lived in the Time of the Lamps? Helluin had thought his name a boast or flight of whimsy, but could it be truth?

"Still thy wondering mind young Helluin," Iarwain said softly, "and in this house take thy rest. All shall still be when thou awaken. Now fear no darkness...rest."

It seemed to Helluin that a night came down upon her like an executioner's hood, starless and velvet black, yet softly, and she fell into it without fear. Later she rose and wandered through the house, into the back room she hadn't entered aforetime. On the floor sat a deep bucket such as a tanner might use, with _Riv-er_**¹** crudely carved into the staves. Before it a pair of rabbit pelts lay flaccid on the flags. A few bubbles percolated up to the surface, drawing her attention. Helluin looked down into the water and beheld there a soaking skin, flayed or shed, empty and translucent, and bearing the collapsed face of Goldberry. The mouth was slowly opening and closing. It was too bizarre an apparition, and Helluin turned from it and left the house.

**¹**(**Riv-er, _"One skin"_**, **_riv_, **(skin) **_er_**, (one) Sindarin)

Upon the path of visions she trod and found herself back in the forest, walking. Ahead she spied lights, as of many campfires where a host rested. She allowed her feet to find their way thither, and she came upon her people encamped in the wood. Amongst them she moved until 'neath a willow nigh the stream where she had met Dálindir, she came upon a young Elven woman, not yet a _yen_**¹** of age, looking expectantly up at her.

**¹**(**_yen,_** the "long-year" of the Eldar, (144 years of the sun) Quenya)

In shock, Helluin remembered this moment, not as a prescient image recalled, but as a memory experienced through other eyes. Ere she had looked upon Beleriand or Aman, the Host of Finwe had traversed Eriador under starlight, and a far younger Helluin had traveled with them. In an unnamed forest much like those they had spent decades wandering through, she had been gifted with this vision of a warrior, like in resemblance unto herself, but powerful beyond any in their host**¹**, and she had never been able to explain it at those rare times in which she revisited that memory. She hadn't thought of it in centuries. **¹**(For at that time none of the host save Finwe had seen the Light of the Trees, and even he had never bathed in their radiance.)

Now Helluin knelt and looked upon her younger self in wonder. Had she ever truly been so open of expression, so guileless of spirit, and so trusting of a stranger armed and undeclared? Had she ever truly been so…young? Helluin watched her hand reach out of its own volition to gently cup the other's cheek. Their eyes met and never broke contact, blue staring into blue like two lovers drowning in a moment's intimacy, yet somehow closer still for they shared the same spirit. Unlike two feeling the attraction between, this was the communion of one soul with itself across time, overwhelming in its intensity, and being who she was now, Helluin felt the impact as she had not been able to before.

Had her spirit ever been so unspoiled, Helluin asked herself, her fea so free of the accumulation of heartbreak and memory and loss? She knew in her heart that it must once have been so, but try as she would, she couldn't remember how it felt to be so light. She had gained much…skills, knowledge, power, and yet she had lost something of the highest value. She had lost her innocence. The realization of it struck her heart like a blow.

As with all those blessed with the Life of the Eldar, she was being bound to the world by the chains of her memories; she was being inexorably being drained, her fire sublimated by the substance of mortal lands and the passage of time. She was diminishing…fading. Helluin recognized that her doom, the doom of all her people, was to lose through gain. She had been so beautiful once, so free, and now…her failing would linger down the Ages and she would die more slowly than any mortal. She had been dying since her first breath of life. Ere Helluin felt the coming tears win their release, she gave her young self a wan smile and then stood and turned away.

She found herself back in her seat before the hearth in the house of Iarwain Ben-adar, and looking over at his chair, her eyesight blurred by tears; Helluin saw only a hazy figure wrought of swirling light. She didn't understand.

"Peace," she heard with her mind's ear, "sorrow for loss is the realm of my sister."

Again the blackness took her, but this time it was dreamless.

With the Green Elves she awoke to see light streaming in through the windows of the hall. Mid-morning already; she usually woke with the dawn. Maldiaving was bustling about setting food upon the table, but Iarwain was not to be seen. The River Daughter turned to her guests as they stretched and rose, and she beckoned them forth to a repast. For a moment her eyes seemed to light on Helluin with a flicker of something in them, but it was quick, the look fugitive, and Helluin wasn't sure if it had really been, rather than a trick of the light or the eye. She did notice that the water nymph's feet were bare, her bunny slippers nowhere to be seen.

At the table Helluin was preoccupied with many thoughts and spoke little as they broke their night's fast. She noted that the water was just water and the bread was just bread. When she had eaten her fill she announced her intention to leave and make her way to Lindon, to speak with Gil-galad and offer her tidings. The Laiquendi nodded in understanding, but Dálindir informed her of their intention to remain a few days.

"Even wanderers spend not all their time wandering," Dálindir told her with a grin, "and such hospitality is not to be missed."

"Thou art welcome to stay as well, Helluin," Goldberry offered. "I think thy tidings shan't bear less import if heard a day later."

"I am sure thou art correct," Helluin answered, "but 'tis 136 years since I looked upon the building of the Dark Tower of Mordor, and in all the years since, naught hast been done to hinder the schemes of Gorthaur. I feel much evil is to come and I little like awaiting it deedless."

Goldberry looked at Helluin in silence for a few moments, as if weighing what she would say next. Over the years she had discerned that things happened in their appointed time, and aught that was done to hasten them changed the doom appointed. She had no idea, and in truth little concern for the timetable of Sauron and his machinations. Iarwain had even less. Whatever happened would happen; it always had before. The front door suddenly burst open.

"Home again, home again jiggidy-jig. The plot thou uncovered is naught but a twig," Iarwain announced as he strode into the room. He clasped Goldberry about the waist and hoisted her into the air and spun her around a couple times before setting her back on her feet. She laughed like the pealing of silver bells and a dribble of water trickled down her legs and sprinkled off her bare feet. Iarwain pulled his chair out from the table and sat down, and then began eating with gusto. "Yummy yum-yum, I shan't spill a crumb. 'Twon't be a sweeping day, my dearie-doll-de-dum. Old Tom's been a-splashing and a-thrashing all the morning bright. And working very hard to work up an appetite."

Helluin noticed that though many crumbs indeed spilled from his mouth as he spoke while he chewed, they fell into his beard where they vanished without a trace. The beard moved by itself, as it was wont to do, looking for all the world as though it were chewing.

"I shalt be going," Helluin announced decisively, "and I should thank thee both for thy kind hospitality." She arose from the table, unable to watch Iarwain's beard any longer.

"By the bye the merry-O," Iarwain said over his shoulder as she moved to the door, "and merrily down the road thou go. Watch the puddles, mind the maps, for I was first but thou be last."

"Yes, of course," Helluin said absently as she opened the door, "thank thee kindly."

She managed to get outside while Iarwain slugged down the contents of his mug and closed the door behind her ere he spoke his next pearl of wisdom. Shaking her head, she reached for her weapons and strapped them on. Helluin noticed that her boots were standing beside Anguirel though she'd put them off the evening before in the washroom upstairs. She also noticed that the soles and adjacent uppers bore dried mud, and she was sure they had been clean the night before. Thankful not to have to go back inside, Helluin sat and laced them on, leaving the ludicrous slippers in their place.

"Oddly moved the shadows in the night," Anguirel said without preamble.

"And to step thus from the world that is, I deem a jeopardy," the Sarchram added.

"Yet the morning hath come and on our way we shalt go," Helluin told them while shouldering her bow and quiver.

"And none too soon," Anguirel said. "Strange was our nightwalk under the old stars."

For once, Helluin was speechless as she began stalking down the path from the house. She looked about to assess the day. Overhead the sky appeared the same as it always had; the sun was in its place and the clouds were simply clouds. Down the path, the forest looked much like any other in Middle Earth. On the wide sloping lawn, two white rabbits examined the grass for the tenderest shoots. Helluin noted that each had a black saddle like marking on its back, and these were so dark they appeared to be holes opening onto a mineshaft. _I ought to make of thee a pair of slippers in token of this visit_, Helluin thought to herself. As if having heard her, the rabbits started up and bolted away across the lawn toward the house.

**To Be Continued**


	17. In An Age Before Chapter 17

**In An Age Before – Part 17

* * *

**

**Chapter Fifteen**

_**Eriador and Eregion - The Second Age of the Sun**_

As expected, Gil-galad had denied having had any contact with either the Lord of Gifts or his messenger. Annatar had never set foot in Lindon, nor had he dared to come to Mithlond, for the High King had shared his thoughts with Cirdan soon after first speaking with Helluin, and the Shipwright had agreed wholeheartedly long ago.

But for the creation of Feanor's jewels, the subsequent return of Morgoth and the coming of the Noldor to Middle Earth would never have been. Cirdan would have still been happily sailing the shores of Beleriand under the stars and his people would still have been thriving in the Falas. Much like Helluin, he had feared the appeal of Annatar's offers to the Eldar of Eregion, and particularly to those of the Guild of Jewel Smiths in Ost-In-Edhil. _As poisoned nectar to the bees is his rede, and doubtless to ruin shalt its counsels lead,_ Cirdan had declared,_ and perhaps not only they shalt be stung._ More strongly than most Noldor, he had a Sindar's visceral distrust for the House of Feanor.

Helluin had come before the king, seeking audience with him in his chambers, and had found him in counsel with Elrond, and Galdor, whom she had met aforetime at Avernien.

"I hath come of late from the home of one, Iarwain Ben-adar, who lives in the forest nigh the north end of the South Downs," she had said, "a strange house and a stranger person." She had paused a moment suppressing the plethora of weird memories. The others had raised their brows in question for her to continue. "While'st there I held converse with a company of the Laiquendi. Indeed, with their king." The others' brows rose yet higher. "Some amongst their companies had word of fell doings in Eregion. It seems that the Lord Annatar hast indeed found welcome there and hast insinuated himself into the confidence of Celebrimbor and the Guild of Jewel Smiths."

Gil-galad had groaned aloud at this and Elrond had shaken his head. Galdor had uttered, "No good and much evil shalt certainly come of this, mark my words."

"I hath also had counsel from this Iarwain Ben-adar," Helluin had announced with some misgivings, for she considered this source of intelligence not above question, "and his claim is that this Annatar is none other than Sauron Gorthaur."

"Well, these tidings grow more ill by the moment," Galdor had said, fixing Helluin with a dour glare.

"Helluin, who is this Iarwain Ben-adar?" Elrond asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "No lore speaks of him, and yet by name he claims to be the most ancient?"

"Aye, my lords, but perchance the question is not who, but what," Helluin replied uncomfortably, "and to that, I hath no sure answer. The experience of his company was…strange. Not as we now sit speaking rationally 'neath the sun art his counsels held. Rather by starlight and after alteration by many agents of the olvar is his wont. Yet though he spoke in rhyme, and oft badly so, he recounted memories reaching back indeed unto the Age of the Lamps, of which we hath heard tell but little even in Aman."

"He is a lore-master then?" Gil-galad asked in confusion.

"My King, he is that, and yet more," said Helluin, "for he spoke from memory rather than study. Indeed I suspect he be not of the Children of the One. As I hath said, the experience was't strange…indeed confusing, yet he provided unto me visions, and he appeared upon a time incorporeal, as a figure of swirling of light. He hast no slight skill at leather mongery, and hath no doubt contrived his own harlequin's outfit. Indeed his beloved Maldiaving, the Riv-er Daughter, is a skin, animated by some power, who takes her nightly rest in a tanner's bucket. Perhaps she once lived; I know not her tale."

Gil-galad, Elrond, and Galdor all regarded this with misgivings. Such doings as Helluin described, if they be true, were the province of sorcery and necromancy. Usually such fell undertakings were the work of a dark will. The reanimation of the husk in particular gave them shivers. Who amongst the Children of Iluvatar could coax forth the fea of the dead from the Halls of Mandos, and bind it thus in a hroa long dead? It simply went against the order of things. Indeed it reeked of sacrilege against the Powers.

"Helluin, how know'th thou that this Iarwain was not Sauron himself in some strange guise?" Elrond asked. "Would it not favor him thus, to come amongst thy company and advance his cause with lies and false information? Ever was he a shapeshifter and sorcerer. Surely such as thou hath reported lies within his realm."

Helluin was silent a moment. This she had never considered, yet her heart denied the truth of Elrond's suspicion. Iarwain and Maldiaving had been disturbing and bizarre, but felt not maliciously evil to her. Neither had Dálindir marked evil in them. And then there was the vision of her younger self. How would Sauron know of that? Why would he have provided her with the completion of one of her lifelong mysteries rather than take the opportunity to insinuate something more misleading or sinister? Why would he have allowed her to discover Goldberry's resting-place? Such a course made no sense, serving to hamper rather than advance his cause.

"In truth I know'th not, Elrond, and thy suspicions hath grounds," she admitted, "yet in my heart I reject them. Certain of the visions I saw were deeply personal, having come upon me in part ere ever I first set foot in Beleriand. I saw the completion of a vision from my youth. Ere that, I saw a vision that revealed his beloved's nature. I think not that Sauron would bypass the chance to visit upon me somewhat more cruel intentions. I believe not that this Iarwain is indeed Sauron."

"So then the Laiquendi told thee that their people hath learned of Annatar's presence in Ost-In-Edhil…" Gil-galad trailed off with a worried expression.

"And one thing more, my King," Helluin said. "Their tale concludes with the news that, traveling thither, he claimed to hath come afresh from thy service as artificer. I suspect such a lie is more in keeping with the ways of the enemy; lies told to further his cause in gaining the trust of Eregion."

At this, the king's fist slammed down on the side table in a rare show of anger. His jaw was clenched and his face was red. To be used thus by the enemy against friends was abhorrent to him, yet all too characteristic a machination. The miles between their realms frustrated him too, and the lateness of the news only made the matter worse. Why had none spoken of this aforetime? Why had no word come from Ost-In-Edhil? Surely such a matter would not be considered a trifle by Celeborn or Galadriel? He couldn't believe it had come to him thus, words third hand and delivered by aught but chance. At the very least the Laiquendi should have passed on their information promptly. But then, they were incohesive as a people, having no real structure to their society and no centralization of authority. They wandered hither and yon about the land with few cares and little concern for the doings of others. Indeed, he had never bothered to maintain much contact with them. They were hard to find and seldom where sought, and any meetings betwixt their people and his were oft guided by naught save luck. But what was that Helluin had said about a king? They actually had a king? He had never heard one named after Denethor, early in the First Age. Thereafter that people had looked most and long to Doriath for leadership and protection in war.

"Helluin, what was this thou mentioned about a king amongst the Laiquendi?"

"I met with one, Dálindir, second son of Denethor, son of Lenwe, the only surviving scion of he who first brought his people to Ossiriand, but fell upon Amon Ereb ere the coming of our people hither from Aman. His rule though is…informal," Helluin hedged.

"Think thou that he and his companies might prove valuable allies in the field or as conduits of information? Surely they hath many eyes in many quarters of the land?"

"Indeed, my King, though the Green Elves would make fine agents and no doubt many walk the lands, I hath no idea how to contact them. With their king's company, only chance brought us recently together." There had been over 1,260 years between their only two meetings. Helluin doubted if she would see him again for a like time. She had spent long years wandering about Eriador and had never met with him before. Searching for him might prove as fruitless as anything she could imagine.

"I see," the High King said absently. It was as he suspected. He dismissed the Laiquendi from his concerns. "Well then, I think it worthwhile for someone to bear word thither to Celeborn and Galadriel. They should at least understand that this Annatar came forth not from any service with me, nor with any blessing from this realm." He was looking pointedly at Helluin as he spoke.

_Once a messenger, always a messenger_, Helluin observed silently, _see what thou hast brought upon thyself? Bearing hence ill tidings grows no generous sentiments from the ears that must hear them. Ahhh well, I suppose that shortly I shalt enjoy the company of Sauron at last. How very wretched a prospect._

"Were not Celeborn and Galadriel warned of Annatar 74 years ago, my King?" She asked, recalling her counsel to send forth a messenger to Eregion in 1187, back when first Annatar's messenger had come to Lindon. She noticed Gil-galad swallow in self-conscious discomfort and take a breath. _Guess not_, she thought.

"At the time I finally decided that such would not be necessary," he admitted, "for in no way could I convince myself that either Celeborn or Galadriel would admit to their realm one intent on promoting such a course. Indeed I am truly astonished at the turn that events hath taken. Now I deem it necessary to send word hence at once. I like not this liar using my blessing unearned to ingratiate himself thus amongst my friends."

"I see," Helluin said. _So now that thy honor is impugned, sending word is necessary._

For a moment, Gil-galad froze as if in mid-thought.

"Why said thou, '74 years ago', Helluin?" He asked carefully.

"'Twas then that I counseled thee that we send forth a messenger to Eregion. To thee had come Annatar's messenger, my King," Helluin answered. "I remember being called hither to thee in Lothron, in 1187 of this Age. 'Tis now Narbeleth of 1261, though warm for the season. Thus I reckon 74 years hath passed."

There followed a long and drawn out silence in which none spoke, but all looked upon her with pitying eyes. Finally Helluin could stand it no longer.

"Whyfore hast thou all become as mourners before a tomb? Surely reminding thee of past counsel is not considered a crime?"

Elrond and Galdor looked to their king. Gil-galad shook his head and took a breath ere he spoke. He had known Helluin many years and was sorry to see her faculties fading so.

"Helluin, 'tis not the year 1261, and hath not been for some time. Indeed today is 18Nórui, (June 18th), in the year 1343. I am sure at thy advanced age 'tis easy enough to fall out of touch, especially in consideration of all thy time spent in the wild lands…"

Helluin had heard his words but they didn't make sense. She gaped openly at the king, not even thinking to react to his implication of her senility. Somehow she had lost 82 years! She was sure that she had met Dálindir in late Ivanneth of 1261. It was now Nórui of 1343? How was such possible? She had spent but a single night at the house of Iarwain Ben-adar. Or at least it had seemed to her a single night…

In horror, she choked back a gasp. She had stepped out of the world and out of time, and no Man or Elf could do thus, either stave off or hasten the passage of time. Iarwain was perhaps even more than she had suspected. One thing only she decided at that moment. Never again would she willingly venture 'nigh that vale, nor would she step foot within that enchanted house even to escape death.

"My King, to me did but a single night pass 'neath the roof of Iarwain and Maldiaving. Now thou tell me 'tis 1343…and it seems that I passed not a single night, but rather well 'nigh 82 years. For my part, I shalt never approach that place nor seek that being again. He is more than any that belong in Middle Earth; I fear him as I hath feared no other."

They stood silently a long while, each thinking deeply on what Helluin had said, trying to understand what had befallen her. Elrond most of all was intrigued by the mystery. Not 120 leagues distant lived one of astonishing abilities, of race unknown, but more than likely either a very powerful Maia or a Vala. Why had not the Eldar wondered after this aforetime? Wind and wave, land and sky all had their rulers within Arda; not so the unfolding of the events of the Song. No other of the Ainur could master time, and no known Power held lordship o'er the realm of its passage. And yet someone must…

"Thou should leave at first light and make thy way thither to Eregion with all haste, Helluin," Gil-galad pronounced at last. "Thou alone of us hast been in Ost-In-Edhil aforetime and know its ways and principals…and thou art close in counsels too with the lords of Khazad-dum. Perhaps t'would be well to send tidings to them also…while'st thou be so nearby."

"Of course, my King. It shalt be done," Helluin said, bowing her head and thinking, _just as I recommended 156 years ago._

_And did we learn anything from that?_ Helluin asked herself with irritation as she trudged down the road out of Lindon the next morning. For rations, the kitchen had provided her a sack of apples that hung now over her shoulder opposite her bow, a small parcel of seeded cakes, a waxed hard cheese, and a flagon of wine. _Just see if I set foot again in Lindon for an Age!_ The road was wet and rutted from the night's rain, and already she was bespattered with mud. _Were I not commanded to make all haste thither in hopes of recouping 156 years neglect, I should make my way amidst the forest like any other sensible person! Roads art for horse carts and armies of Men._

She continued to grumble as she strode along, aggravated to have been drawn unexpectedly onto yet another of the king's errands. She sloshed blindly through puddles, kicked stones into the roadside trees, and stomped to splatter mud simply for spite. In fact she was deceiving herself, concentrating on her displeasure at being enlisted as a messenger rather than contemplating the greater mystery of having lost o'er half a yen or the prospect of coming into the company of Sauron. Helluin was so preoccupied that she failed to notice the figure joining her on the road, though vigilance would have availed her little in this case.

"Whither goes't thou in such a foul mood?" A soft voice asked from very nearly beside her elbow it seemed.

Helluin started and jerked around, scowling, her sword half out of its scabbard ere she recognized Beinvír stepping from the woods to join her on the road. The woman flinched back at her sudden movement and stopped in her tracks, eyes wide and hands spread in a placating gesture.

"Thy pardon," Helluin apologized, stopping and sheathing Anguirel, but not before hearing its soft chuckle. "I am sent to Ost-In-Edhil on errantry for my king, Gil-galad. It seems I am commanded to act on my own advice after 156 years," she chaffed. "What brings thee hither, Beinvír?" She looked around, expecting to see Gérorn, Celegaras, and Dálindir nearby. As far as she could discern, they were alone upon the road.

"I truth I had hoped to find thee, Helluin," Beinvír said. At Helluin's look of surprise, she added, "I had somewhat of a disagreement with Gérorn and decided to unaccomany them all for a while." Here Helluin raised an eyebrow in question. "The company desired to remain at the house of Iarwain for some time, while in truth, that place sets me ill at ease. Gérorn insisted I remain; I refused and then left ere harsher words were spoken." She waved a hand dismissively. "It helps at times to do thus when we need to regain perspective." Here she gave a sigh ere taking a breath to refocus and continue. "Since thou also travel about and were not yet even a half-day gone, I trailed thee to Lindon but had no desire to enter there. Hence I came to join thee on the road, for I deemed traveling with thee a chance to widen my experience. Little contact hath I ever had with the Noldor, and I hath for many years been curious."

"And knowing now my errand, doest thou still seek to accompany me thither…most likely to meet Sauron Gorthaur?" Helluin asked incredulously. No one in their right mind sought out the Lord of Lies, Lieutenant of Morgoth, abhorred above all his servants.

"I should not miss it for the world," Beinvír answered lightly at once. Helluin groaned.

"And what of Ost-In-Edhil? Woulds't thou also enter there when thou woulds't not enter Lindon?"

At this, Beinvír stilled and thought for a moment. Cities weren't her choice of abiding places. She considered them stifling but she supposed she could stand one for a short while if she went thither in Helluin's company rather than alone.

"Thou intends not to settle there?" She asked just to make sure.

"Not in this lifetime," Helluin said, "I hope to leave as soon as may be. Indeed I hope to pass no more than a day there ere I travel thence to Khazad-dum. What about that?"

At this news, Beinvír's eyes went wide with horror. "Thou doth go to seek after the Naugrim? In truth? I hath heard that of old they roasted and ate Elves, though whether they persist in this practice is a constant subject of debate amongst us."

Now it was Helluin's turn to stare in shock. _Unbelievable! They think the Naugrim eat Elves? Where in Arda did they hear that?_ The idea was so ludicrous that it wholly lacked for humor. It was several moments ere she could even form an answer.

"Beinvír," Helluin at last managed to say, "the Naugrim are no more likely to eat an Elf than thou art to eat one of them. Where indeed did thou hear such a thing?"

Beinvír looked like she truly wanted to believe Helluin's assurances. Her people had fled from Dwarves for centuries, or slew them when they could. They had done thus in earnest ever since the battle with the Host of Nogrod at the River Ascar. In Ossiriand the Dwarves had indiscriminately felled trees, dug up the soil, and built roads through the forest. Their manners were haughty and their speech incomprehensible. Long ere the battle, they had been the unfriends of the Green Elves. Few Laiquendi cared to recall that the Naugrim had been there first. The two kindreds had forever been estranged and had never had anything in common.

"Well, everyone believes it," she said, "and none that I know hath ever actually talked to one of them. It hath been thus for many yeni. Now we keep to the forests and they to the mountains, and almost never do we meet. Such is our wisdom."

"Bah! Such wisdom is folly," Helluin declared with certainty. "The Host of Durin I count as friends. Indeed of them was my armor made and of their fellowship with Celebrimbor of Ost-In-Edhil was this weapon made." Here she touched the Sarchram.

"Well, if thou say thus, I shalt believe thee," Beinvír said after some moments, though she sounded yet unconvinced. She gave Helluin a nervous smile. "I shalt look forward to not being eaten."

"Oh, come on then," Helluin said at last, "and try to keep up."

She started striding down the road again with Beinvír at her side. She was unsure which of them would be most discomfited; she at having company or the Green Elf at walking the road. After an hour, Beinvír gave voice to her irritation with Helluin's haste.

"Must thou proceed as a rabbit chased?" Beinvír asked as she hastened her stride. Helluin's legs were enough longer than her own that the Noldo's pace pressed her for speed, she being more used to moving unseen in forests than marching down open roads.

"Indeed yes," Helluin had answered. After a moment she added, "such art my orders."

"I see," Beinvír said unhappily. "Know thou the mileage of this journey?"

Helluin looked to her side and noted the distaste the Green Elf seemed to have for marching post haste, yet there was little she could do to lessen the strain. Still, she recalculated the day's marches and slacked slightly her pace. Gil-galad had waited 156 years to send a messenger thither. Helluin could arrive a day or two later without feeling guilty. She reached into her sack and drew forth an apple, which she handed to Beinvír. That at least got a smile.

"After all these years, to be ordered thither with all haste doth seem a whimsy," she said by way of apology, "yet even I feel the necessity of speed and 'tis worse for the wasted time. I shalt endeavor to make the journey survivable. T'wouldn't befit the dignity of a king's messenger, I suppose, to stagger in thus at court before the Lord and Lady, gasping for the last of breath ere collapsing upon the floor."

Beinvír laughed aloud at Helluin's words and Noldo was heartened to hear her mirth.

"T'would make thy king appear a driver of thralls, or perhaps bespeak a battle narrowly escaped," the Laiquende said, "I wager thy hosts might find either possibility upsetting." Beinvír actually giggled at the thought. Helluin couldn't recall the last time she'd heard an Elf giggle. She found it lightened her heart to hear it now.

The next day, after ruminating all night on her loss of so many years during one night in the forest, Helluin spoke with Beinvír, asking her, "What know'th thou of Iarwain? Strange things hath befallen me in his house."

Beinvír looked at her uncomfortably before answering. As she had said, the place made her feel ill at ease.

"'Tis a strange house with strange hosts," she began, "and ever while there do I feel myself apart from the world that is. 'Tis just a feeling, I suppose, but it chills me, as though I had for a time, walked out from 'neath the sun. I know not how better to describe it. Always I hath felt uneasy till away in the forest, yet I hath noted that at times it seems I hath come forth from there in a different season, or noting a particular tree, sensed that it hath lived some time in my absence. Can such be so?"

"I believe such is just so," Helluin said, "for when I met thy company, 'twas 23 Ivanneth in the year 1261, but when I came to Lindon, I found 'twas suddenly 18 Nórui of 1343. In the night I spent in the house of Iarwain Ben-adar, I somehow misplaced 82 years."

Beinvír regarded her with shock widened eyes. Few with whom she spoke measured closely the years. Their folk died not, aged little, and lived upon the land. Never had she compared her coming or going from that house to a calendar. She shivered unconsciously. Her company had elected to stay there while she had left. When would she see them again? In a month? A year? A yen? An Age?

"My friends…" she whispered, wracked with uncertainly, "I left them there…"

Helluin didn't know what to say. She couldn't offer any certainties for she knew too little to guess. Beinvír might see her friends again soon, or it might be a very long time indeed, for they were outside the world and she was within it. When they would return was utterly unknown. Helluin draped an arm about the younger woman's shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. It was all the comfort she could offer, and gently she urged her new companion beside her down the road. _Guess I hath company now for a while,_ she thought, _and such may not be a bad thing._

Now the way from Lindon to Ost-In-Edhil by road ran well nigh 180 leagues, but the king had commanded Helluin to make all haste. She walked from sun up to sundown stopping but twice a day to sup and rest. It being 19 Nórui, (June 19th), when Helluin and Beinvir met, the days were divided unequally betwixt day and night. Long was the light of summer and they walked while the sun lit their way. Thus they progressed at a pace averaging ten to eleven leagues a day, and on 7 Cerveth, (July 7th), S.A. 1343, they arrived at the gates of Ost-In-Edhil.

Immediately, Helluin could see that the city had changed. The indifferently laid and unimpressive wall she had seen on her earlier visit had been replaced with one both tall and broad, the work of the Gonnhirrim from the looks of the joinery. The gate was now wrought of iron, tall and sturdy, its stout hinges concealed in masonry, the juncture tight. Upon the faces was worked a device of holly leaves in relief, inlaid with patinaed bronze and red berries of carnelian. Strong towers stood upon either side and the gate's arch was topped with a crenellated battlement. From both vantages, watchmen observed the comings and goings upon the road. These and the many guards about the gate were dressed in shining mail 'neath surcoats of deep green, and they carried long swords.

The gate stood open during daylight hours for the ease of the traffic entering and leaving, and looking through they had a glimpse of the city. Beyond the wall lay a bustling square and then a narrow view of many stone buildings with avenues leading away in different directions. It appeared that Durin's folk had been much employed, for the construction was first rate. Helluin was impressed. Beinvír was visibly nervous. Helluin laid a steadying hand on her shoulder and squeezed to reassure her of their safety.

As they stood thus, a company of the guard garrisoned there stood forth and approached. These guards had the duty of challenging strangers to declare themselves and their business. Though Helluin was in truth no stranger, it had been 220 years since last she had entered the city. Of course, Beinvír was a complete stranger, and a nervous appearing one at that. As it was now the rule, the guards stopped the two and required them to declare themselves, whether any of them recognized Helluin or not.

"Good day," the tall captain of the guard said formally, and eyeing Helluin and Beinvír closely explained, "'tis the law of the Lord and Lady that all strangers must declare themselves ere they art granted leave to enter the city. What then art thy names and thy business?"

_Officious young pup,_ Helluin thought._ Just like last time,_ _save that now my boots art in fine shape. Ahhh well, I suppose he is but doing his duty. _

"I am Helluin, called also Maeg-mormenel, an explorer of the Host of Finwe, and aforetime, thy lord's first Ambassador to Khazad-dum. I am come now as a messenger to the Lord and Lady from Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor. With me travels Beinvír, loyal member of the company of Dálindir, King of the Laiquendi of Eriador."

The captain gave a sigh and then nodded. Few of the remaining Noldor in Middle Earth could name themselves thus, though all had the right to name their first lord. By naming herself of the Host of Finwe, Helluin had placed herself among the eldest of the Calaquendi, those who had marched west in that host ere it came to Aman. It conferred a status, for age was respected among all the Eldar. Helluin was also easily recognized by her black armor and the ring blade that Celebrimbor had forged for her, as much as for her black hair and bright blue eyes. Still, it had been his duty to ask and it seemed she understood. As for the other woman, she was the first Green Elf he had ever seen. One simply did not encounter Laiquendi outside their forests, and even in their realm one did not see them unless they allowed it. And she was a member of her king's company no less. Like Helluin, she was no doubt a royal emissary on official business to his rulers.

"Thou art known to us, Helluin, and thy voucher of Beinvír I shalt accept. The Lord and Lady hold court in the White Tower and there receive messages. Go thou in peace."

He stood aside and gave them a formal bow as they passed. Helluin acknowledged him with a nod and a small smile while Beinvír bowed to him in return.

When they had passed out of earshot, Beinvír whispered, "We do not call Dálindir king, for he rules no realm and our people art by their nature scattered. There is no kingdom."

"That may well be," Helluin said with a smile, "but the guard knew it not, and at such times I hath found it worthwhile to impress those subject to being easily impressed." She winked and got a smile from the Green Elf in return.

"He certainly seemed duly impressed with thy titles," Beinvír said, teasing.

"Such nonsense comes as the wage of trudging many miles and losing many battles," Helluin said with mock-gravity. "Perhaps I should hath added also, 'Royal Orch Hunter of Lindórinand', 'Great-grandmother to the Brat Queen of Númenor', and 'Overly Hasty in Speech with the Onodrim of Greenwood'?"

To this, Beinvír laughed aloud, a carefree and joyous sound not in the least stifled to pass as civil amongst genteel company at court. Helluin found that she liked the sound more each time she heard it. _Only genuine mirth can be truly free of care_, she thought, _and such lives best in a heart free to feel it_._ Hath I lost that too in the passing of the years? _She found herself giving the younger woman a gentle smile as they walked into the city.

The way to the White Tower was obvious, for the structure was by far the tallest building in the city and stood where the earlier tower had been. They had no trouble picking their course, for the streets were laid out in a simple grid that followed the contours of the land so as not to become overly rigid in its geometry. As before, Helluin's way took her 'nigh the Guildhouse of Jewel Smiths, and she gave it a close look as they passed. She noted that while the façade had remained unchanged, a number of stories had been added above it so that the edifice, once squat, now encompassed an impressive height. Yet the additions had been cunningly contrived to appear of the same manufacture as the original structure. Helluin nodded to herself. It was less ostentatious than she had expected.

As they walked through the city, Beinvír's eyes ceaselessly rove over everything. She took in the smooth, level streets, the crowds of people, the paucity of trees, and the paving overlying the soil. Suddenly she stopped stock-still and let out a small gasp. Helluin checked on her and realized that she was reacting thus to a group of traders from the mountains going about their business in a market square. These were the first of the Naugrim that they had seen this day. Helluin gave Beinvír a subtle nudge to get her moving again, and after shaking herself and taking a last look back, Beinvír continued forward.

"'Tis not uncommon to find some number of Durin's Folk in the city, Beinvír," Helluin explained to allay her discomfort, "for they art welcomed as traders and craftsmen, and indeed, as friends. Thou shalt certainly meet some of their company, either here in the city or later upon the road. Ere thou come to the west gate of Hadhodrond, thou shalt hath made the acquaintance of at least a few."

Beinvír gulped and nodded, still not comfortable with the idea though the interactions between the Dwarves and the Elves that she had just seen seemed to bear Helluin out. There had been much conversation, the examination of wares, some haggling, jesting, and a burst of laughter. Hands had been shaken, money exchanged, and goods taken with smiles all around. Indeed it had all seemed very normal. Beinvír realized that if she made it back to her company alive and uneaten, she would have much to tell. Indeed many of her people would scarce believe her tale. The news that she had entered the city at all would be startling in itself. For the first time since coming thither, she let a smile of anticipation cross her lips.

The court of the White Tower was a stuffy and formal affair, with stern sentries, liveried servants, and fawning toadies in abundance. Helluin was hardly impressed and Beinvír vacillated betwixt nervousness and derision. The door warden "requested" they lay aside their arms ere they entered. Beinvír handed over her bow and knife. Helluin gave over her bow, sword, and the Sarchram. The Grave Wing confused the warden, for never had he seen such a weapon before, but the _cirth_**¹** upon it froze his heart.

**¹**(**cirth**, runes Sindarin)

In typical fashion, Anguirel upset him further, warning coldly that, "Thou hast not leave to draw my blade. Do so, and I shalt surely take thy life."

Helluin chuckled at the horror on his face; such incidents were endearing the black sword to her ever more as the years passed.

Within the White Tower a valet conveyed them to the door of the Great Hall where a herald announced them to the court. It seemed that they were led thither by a somewhat roundabout route and given a tour meant to impress them with the majesty of the royal house. Beinvír stared at everything while Helluin rolled her eyes. Aforetime she had simply come to the couple's study and knocked upon their door. Now they entered a formal setting with all the trappings of royal pomp such as would have befitted Gondolin, or Nargothrond, or Menegroth. Indeed, it was much more structured than Lindon. Helluin was reminded of the court at Armenelos in Númenor.

The Great Hall was a vast affair of white marble, brightly lit by many windows, and liberally decorated with figures and traceries. Indeed Helluin came to wonder how oft and in how many guises, the token of a holly sprig could be rendered, and just how ingeniously it might be applied to nearly every surface. A gathering was to be seen far down the hall, and the two travelers paced toward it with echoing steps ringing on the flooring stones. There at the far end of the hall, Celeborn and Galadriel were seated upon chairs carved with yet more representations of holly, and set upon a low dais. What with their counselors, petitioners, officials from the various guilds, and city bureaucrats, there were several dozen in attendance. All eyes now turned to watch the travelers approaching.

When they were half way down the hall, Beinvír finally turned to Helluin and nervously whispered, "Were I a naked Orch I should warrant less attention, I wager. Pray tell, do they find all strangers worthy of such blatant examination?"

"Of their vulturine tendencies hast there been some advance of late, most likely in proportion to the tedium of their duties," Helluin guessed, "such is the nature of ordering a realm. May the Valar preserve all such who find themselves held thus in thrall."

"Thou pity them?"

"Indeed so," Helluin said. "How could I not? Friends forced thus into so unnatural a state." Here she nodded subtly at Celeborn and Galadriel.

Shortly they had come before the dais and bowed to the Lord and Lady. All eyes were still upon them, but now their attention was focused upon the royals and they paid the courtiers no mind. Celeborn and Galadriel rose in greeting.

"Welcome, Helluin and Beinvír," Celeborn said, ignoring the look of surprise on the Laiquende's face at his knowledge of her name. "Many changes hath befallen ere thou last stood in our realm, my old friend, as thou hath no doubt seen. I pray thou hast been well since last we met." He turned his gaze to Beinvír, "Welcome, distant kinswoman of my forefathers. Long hast it been since last I met with any of the people of Denethor, and longer still since I heard the singing in the greenlands of Ossiriand. Be thou at peace in Ost-In-Edhil, for in honor do we hold our allies and friends of days long past."

Beinvír was rendered speechless at the lord's fair words and could only grace him with a thankful smile ere she bowed her head in respect.

Meanwhile, Galadriel had been regarding Helluin closely and an increasing expression of incredulity possessed her features. Her faultless sight allowed her to mark the fact that by some enchantment, Helluin now stood taller than she herself; she was sure of it though she stood a step above her on the dais. Finally, unable to contain herself, Galadriel stepped down and strode over to stand directly before the raven-haired Noldo. The confirmation of her suspicion was all too obvious face to face. Now forced to look up into those star-blue eyes, she detected there the slightest twinge of suppressed mirth.

"My eyes fooled me not!" She hissed as she leaned forward to whisper in Helluin's ear. "Thou hast grown taller yet again! Is this thy notion of humor?"

Only Beinvír who stood close beside them overheard the princess' words, and her eyes grew wide in shock, thinking the lady unstable. Upon the dais Celeborn choked at the obvious evidence he saw before him. Helluin was now nearly a hand's width taller than his wife. Somehow she'd done it again! Now he would never hear the end of it.

"'Tis no more than the wages of outdoor living, Princess," Helluin replied while casting a nervous glance around at the courtiers, "fresh air, clean water, natural food…" she trailed off as Galadriel regarded her claim with obvious disbelief.

"Yet aforetime thou claimed such was the result of some stream enchanted, which doth flow amidst the mellyrn yon Hithaeglir," she whispered in irritation, reminding Helluin of her earlier claims in Lindon.

Helluin had certainly not forgotten her own words. She sighed and began to wonder if her jest had not gone too far. Could such really be so important to the daughter of her old friend, Finarfin? Was Galadriel becoming unhinged? At the very least the gossip mongers standing nearby would think it so. 'Twas time to direct the conversation onto safer topics.

"My Lady," Helluin said, taking a slight step back, "upon an errand from Gil-galad did I come hither, and grave is the message. Yet I deem it neither discourse for many ears, nor the concern of many counsels. I pray thee for a privy audience with thee and the lord."

She gave Galadriel as serious a look as she could muster, given the lady's reaction just moments past, and cast her eyes about her to mark all the surrounding company. To her credit, Galadriel shifted quickly to the business at hand and announced, "Leave us now, all thou here in attendance. The court shalt recommence in one hour."

All 'round them heads bowed and people withdrew. Though none protested, there was an undercurrent of whispers and muttering. In a few moments the hall was deserted save for Helluin, Beinvír, Galadriel, and Celeborn. When Helluin made to continue speaking, the Lady sternly put a finger across her lips and motioned with her head for them to adjourn through a side door to a private chamber. They filed out of the hall quickly.

The chamber was a comfortable room with many chairs and a pair of desks. A large window taking up most of one wall lit the space, while the remaining walls held shelves filled with books and scrolls. The four Elves seated themselves in a group around a low table that held refreshments and cups. Galadriel poured them wine, then sat back and sighed ere she drank. Helluin took a sip and drew forth a scroll. Beinvír simply looked about herself while Celeborn helped himself to a sweetened cake. He at least was dreading the outburst betwixt Helluin and his wife that he felt sure would follow. Finally Galadriel sighed again and regarded Helluin closely, making eye contact so that they held each other's attention for some moments ere they spoke.

"Thou hast obviously found profit yet again in thy travels, Helluin," Galadriel began in a somewhat accusatory tone as her eyes raked up and down Helluin's tall form, "as it seems thou art wont to do. I hath many…questions," she said in a tone that promised a lengthy interrogation to appease her amazement, "yet I suppose 'tis thy business that doth take precedence. Speak therefore, I pray thee. What word from the High King?"

"My Lady," Helluin said formally, before turning to nod at Celeborn, "my Lord, my errand to thee from Gil-galad 'tis in part the delivery of this scroll, yet I can speak somewhat of its contents." She had displayed the scroll then set it upon the table. "156 years ago a messenger came to the gates of Lindon seeking audience with the king. There he offered parlay on behalf of his lord, Annatar, a master out of the east, he claimed, of great cunning and subtlety of hand, who offered his aid in craft to the Noldor. His goal was to create such as would aid in the achievement of a realm upon Middle Earth to rival that of Blessed Aman; one cured of mortal stain, ever unfading, and like unto Valinor itself." All sat listening, the scroll for now forgotten and untouched. Helluin noted the disturbing brightness of Galadriel's eyes as she warmed to the topic.

"Such aspirations seem fair upon their face, and yet tempt the Noldor once again to aspire to that which is beyond their grasp and their place. Indeed, I deem such to be not less than the usurpation of the powers of the Undying Ones in their rightful rule o'er Arda, and cause for yet another curse. The king hast come to agree with this conclusion, Cirdan, Elrond, and Galdor too. Indeed Gil-galad refused to treat further with this messenger and he refused to meet this lord.

Of late hath we learnt that this Annatar is come to Ost-In-Edhil, and hath endeared himself to the Gwanin-I-Mirdain. Indeed 'tis reported that he hath become close in counsel with Celebrimbor. 'Tis said he did thus, claiming the lie that he had been of late, artificer to the High King. Such treachery coming to light hast hastened me hither bearing these tidings, and there is more.

Yet shortly ago, in the company of one Iarwain Ben-adar, it became known to me that this Lord Annatar is none other than Sauron Gorthaur, bearing fair guise and acting again his sorcery and cunning. I urge thee both; dispossess thy realm of this villain! Deport him hence at once! Offer him no welcome or succor. I fear for thee as does the High King. In Celebrimbor is the spirit of Feanor born again, and to Sauron's master that spirit was known upon a time. Ere the Exile did Morgoth win Feanor's ear and confidence for a time. Such again do we fear coming to pass, that now the ear of a lesser son be given to a lesser evil, and yet both be still great enough to forge a bitter doom for our people. Tell me, I pray thee, what news of this Annatar in Ost-In-Edhil?"

Galadriel and Celeborn had listened closely to Helluin's impassioned speech and indeed both were impressed. It was very likely the most either of them had heard at one sitting from the dour Noldo, and the monologue had been delivered with more feeling than any words that either could recall. What she had claimed was truly horrifying, very nearly a nightmare recapitulation of the fall of their people and the darkening of Valinor. There was but one problem.

"Helluin, in all of Ost-In-Edhil there is no being of the name Annatar," Celeborn said with certainty. "Indeed no new guildsmen hath been admitted in 'nigh on forty years. During that time, Celebrimbor hast been most oft in Khazad-dum, in the company of Narvi, creating great works, most chiefly the new West Doors of Hadhodrond. In his absence, no new guildsmen hath been inducted."

Helluin looked at him in shock. How could there be no Annatar in Ost-In-Edhil?

"'Tis true, Helluin," Galadriel said, "in payment for the labor of their stone wrights hath we sent forth gravers and carvers, artisans and painters, lampwrights and fountaineers. The Lord of Khazad-dum aspires to make his realm the most beautiful of all the dwellings of his folk upon Middle Earth, as well as the richest and most powerful. It shalt be as the Great Courts of Mahal, he claims, indeed like unto the smithies of their creator himself; a city fair and strong, delved by the hands of his people and enriched by the hands of ours. And he hath pledged alliance in peace and in war, and in the flow of ideas and skills between the mountains and the city. In the making of many works hath Celebrimbor's skills bloomed even to the amazement of those who knew him aforetime. An unrivaled master he hath become, inspired, subtle, and delicate of hand. All this hath come of thy efforts aforetime. Indeed we all owe thee a great debt."

Somewhere during Galadriel's discourse, Helluin's soul fell chilled and she listened with growing horror. In the boasts of the Lord of Durin's Folk she heard the echo of the promises of Annatar to the Noldor. Was he come thither to Khazad-dum, or had he secretly infected Celebrimbor in Ost-In-Edhil, sending him thence to Hadhodrond to spread his poison? There was no way for Helluin to know. Only was she sure that Celeborn and Galadriel stood blindly upon the brink of disaster. Somewhere in the back of her mind she also noted that, whereas aforetime, Galadriel had spoken somewhat disparagingly of Celebrimbor, now her words glowed with praise…interesting.

"How oft come thou amongst the guildsmen or to their guildhouse?" She asked them. Both stared at her, neither answering, but the silence alone answered for them. "Perhaps this Annatar bides his time in secret amongst the craftsmen, indeed perhaps even unrecognized by Celebrimbor. We know from of old how Sauron was a shifter of shapes. Surely he could cloak himself in form fair spoken and fair to the eye, passing thus for one of our own, going unmarked and unremarked, yet slowly eroding the nobility of those about him, much like a fungus eroding a timber and leaving all sound to the eye yet rotten through within. Such would be a fair coup and much to his liking."

Galadriel and Celeborn looked to each other in uncertainty, and thence to Helluin in alarm. Such could be true; they both knew it. They weren't even sure day to day as to whether Celebrimbor himself was in the city or in the mountains let alone the disposition of every guildsman. It had been long ere they'd had time from their duties to really keep an eye on their realm. And somehow the work just kept demanding ever more of their time. In the last couple decades it had grown worse at a quickening pace.

"Helluin, what thou claim could all too easily be true. We hath become whelmed in the rule of Eregion," Celeborn admitted. He cast a longing look out the window, then sighed and returned his attention to those seated about him. "Slowly we hath grown apart from our people. Indeed it seems with each day that passes we fall deeper out of touch."

"We hath become as shadows in our own realm, guests preoccupied or strangers lost in our own home," Galadriel shook her head. "'Tis almost as if a creeping malaise hath o'ertaken us, or a blight set upon us to steal away our time. Yet it came upon us slowly, seeming merely the demands of our rule as Ost-On-Edhil grew. In truth, I had not even noticed."

Helluin had to wonder if the trend were just a coincidence.

Galadriel sighed and closed her eyes a moment as if to rest them from the sight of all about her. "Would that I might reduce somewhat the tedium of rule, or better yet, unsully my own heart and live a simpler life," she whispered. "Sometimes I am so tired of it."

"Aye, 'tis fatiguing," Celeborn said wistfully. "'Twas not always thus, but now of late the effect quickens. We art kept running blindly forward, like mice with tails caught fast betwixt the floorboards, frantic, yet never able to progress. Now it seems every detail calls for our attention, every petty dispute for our arbitration. I feel as if we hath been cast slowly into gaol and live now in servitude."

"Were I to aspire to advance an agenda of subversion, my first act would constitute a diversion of authority," Helluin mused. "In some fashion would I contrive to preoccupy the attention of those who might thwart me, and having arranged things thus, I could then move about at liberty. I would next subvert those amenable to my cause and gather about me such allies as I could corrupt, plotting in silence ere my strength was full wrought, and only then making trial of my power. 'Tis a good practical plan when one stands alone against o'erwhelming odds with aught but time on one's side. Add in persuasiveness, a few appealing gifts, a trustworthy appearance, and then dissemble for a time with confidence, and the chances of success would be good indeed."

Helluin looked up from her musings to see the horror on the faces of Galadriel and Celeborn. Their minds were working a mile a minute and Helluin could well follow their chains of thought. If the plot had grown so pervasive as to reach into their court, where confederates contrived to keep them endlessly busy and blind to the state of their realm, then was it already too late? As they'd noted, the effect had been going forward ever faster for some time. They had been rendered well nigh ineffectual already, sundered from the realities of their realm. Was their foundation already too rotten to stand?

Helluin cleared her throat to reclaim their attention. "I was delayed upon the road, and my tidings art not now so fresh," she apologized. What she had learnt most recently of Dálindir was now probably close to 85 years out of date. Sauron could have spent better than a century in Ost-In-Edhil already. "I expect Annatar arrived hither some 100 to 125 years ago and quickly gained the confidence of Celebrimbor. I cannot believe Gorthaur was ignorant of the grandson of Feanor."

"With each revelation do we find ourselves closer to being undone," Galadriel groaned, "pray tell what else hast thou seen in the wide world? What lies beyond our doom, Helluin? Surely there is more. Sauron came not to Eregion to accomplish a deed apart. Where else doth his power move?"

Helluin had to applaud the princess' ability to see the implications that the true state of her own realm dictated for the wider world. What happened here was a portion only of Sauron's strategy. Despite her pride, she and her realm were but one piece on a board in motion.

"Things move in the east. Yon Hithaeglir, o'er 200 years ago, there was a migration of Yrch southwards from Gundabad. Out of the east, from Rhûn and parts more distant still came evil Men. Sauron was gathering them to his new realm in Mordor. In that forsaken and dismal land betwixt the Ered Lithui and the Ephel Duath he is mustering a host upon the Plain of Gorgoroth. There I saw the building of his Black Tower, the foundations set, the walls rising. Vast art its prisons and pits, deep art its dungeons, and thick its walls. Such a fortress, greater than any other in Middle Earth shalt it be, taller even that Mindon Eldalieva in Tirion the Fair, stronger than Gondolin, and filled with foul creatures to rival Angband. And over all smolders Orodruin, the mountain of fire.

Across Belegaer in Númenor ruled a queen who cared little for the trials of Middle Earth. Perhaps she rules there still; I know not. In Lindórinand King Lenwin stands isolated and loath to ally with Khazad-dum, though its strength lies 'nigh at hand. In Greenwood move the Onodrim, Yavanna's guardians, set to loose upon all of the kelvar their Huorns, fell beings in the form of trees; they would pursue and slay Elf and Orch indiscriminately. And in Lindon rules the High King, uncertain and unsure, depending for tidings upon the comings and goings of such as myself, unpredictable as those arrivals may be. In the forests of Eriador dwell the Laiquendi, secretive, free, unallied with any others and wary of all." Here she gave Beinvír a sad smile.

"All who would stand against Sauron art divided. Most art as yet distrustful of each other and unaware of his machinations. Even those closest to hand perceive him not and his purposes art cloaked. 'Tis to the Noldor in particular that he doth plead his case, for our people art most easily ensnared by their own nature. Hither then, having been rejected in Lindon, he doth play his opening bid, to bring down those most susceptible and potentially his most bitter foes." Helluin shook her head at the state of what she had seen. "I think I shalt visit the Guild this day and speak at whiles with Celebrimbor if I may. Perchance in light of our old endeavor he shalt share tidings with me."

She noted that Celeborn and Galadriel were staring off as if unseeing, fathoming the information she had provided. Almost none of it had come aforetime to their ears.

"Keep safe for me my friend, Beinvír," she requested of Galadriel, who gave her a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"I shalt return ere this eve," she said to Beinvír who looked to be ready to argue about being left behind with strangers, "please remain here, my friend. 'Tis as safe a place as any hereabouts." She offered the Green Elf a small smile of reassurance and then stood. "Favor me by keeping an eye on my bag?" She asked.

Beinvír nodded as she watched Helluin preparing to depart. She didn't like this course at all, but knew not what else to do. If Helluin indeed found this Celebrimbor, would she not also stand a good chance of meeting this Annatar who was also Sauron?

"Be careful, my friend," she whispered.

To Be Continued


	18. In An Age Before Chapter 18

**In An Age Before – Part 18**

_In which Helluin is befriended by an enemy and nearly comes to blows with a friend. Some daysunfold thus, even amongst the Eldar._

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The guildhouse of the Gwanin-I-Mirdain was busy when Helluin entered. Many craftsmen came and went upon errands and to obtain counsel of their colleagues. Apprentices hastened to and fro on behalf of their masters and few marked her presence in their hurry. Of a guildsman she inquired after Celebrimbor and was told that the master of the guild was abroad in Khazad-dum for the completion of the gates. She had nodded and thanked him, then stood a moment wondering what to do next. As she stood thus she was approached by another craftsman, who stood regarding her in a respectful silence until she looked to him in question.

_I remember thee! Long it hast been, and yet not so very long, Maeg-mormenel. Only the Elder King hath eyes such as thou, kindled to blue fire in times of battle's passion. _

"Well met, warrior," the smiling craftsman said. He was golden of hair like a Vanya, grey eyed, and while muscles showed 'neath the leather apron he wore, he was not overly bulky or tall. Indeed he was quite average in appearance save for the color of his hair being akin to that of the Vanyar more than the Noldor. "I marked the ring at thy side and wondered if 'twas not that which the master Celebrimbor once forged? If it be the same, than art thou not Helluin Maeg-mormenel? Art thou indeed she, and is that indeed the Sarchram?"

"Well met, master craftsman," Helluin responded, returning his smile. "I am indeed Helluin and this, as thou hath recognized, is the Sarchram. Pray tell me thy name, sir, as thou dost now know mine."

"Ahhh, my apologies," he said, "I am called Malthenvab**¹**." He introduced himself with a self-conscious blush and a self-deprecating shrug.

**¹**(**Malthenvab, _"Golden Hand"_ **_**malthen**_ (golden)** + (_v-)mab_** (hand) Sindarin)

"Such a name bodes well for one in thy trade," Helluin replied, giving him a smile and appreciating his apparent lack of bloated pride. "I am sure thou hast earned it."

Again he blushed, this time at her praise, before admitting that, "Such is the opinion of my fellow craftsmen, and great favor it hast brought out of Khazad-dum. Yet to me the greatest achievement hast been the refinement of the _ithildin_**¹** for the new doors of Hadhodrond." In speaking of the works of his craft, he had become more animated and less self-conscious, much like any speaking of that which he loved. "Aforetime such alloys shown only by moonlight, yet now in starlight too doth the designs wrought of it shine." It was actually quite an advance in technique and Helluin could appreciate it as such.

**¹**(**ithildin**, _moon-silver,_ later, _star-moon_, also called _Moria silver_ or _true silver_. Sindarin)

"A fine achievement, Malthenvab," she said, nodding in congratulations, "by thy hand art both Khazad-dum and the legacy of the Eldar enriched." After a pause she asked, "How goes thy labor in the kingdom of Durin's Folk, and how fares bright Celebrimbor?"

"Ahhh, both art very well indeed, and I would tell thee tidings of the master since thou hath known him aforetime. Perhaps thou woulds't join me for a cup of wine? I hath some moments at leisure ere I must return to the smithies. And I must confess," here he looked again self-conscious, but continued when Helluin raised a brow in question, "I would query thee of the Sarchram, for the tale of its forging hath intrigued me since I heard it from the master years ago."

With Celebrimbor out of the city it was as good an offer as she was likely to find. She had no intention of confronting Annatar alone, and Malthenvab seemed good company, if a bit preoccupied with his craft. At least he had some tidings of Celebrimbor to share.

"I accept thy invitation, Malthenvab, for the day hast become warm. A cup of wine would be refreshing and thy tidings welcome," Helluin said as they moved towards the entrance of the guildhouse.

"Cross the way is a tavern frequented by guildsmen, Helluin, and I can vouch for their wine," Malthenvab said, gesturing across the street where a sign displaying a tankard set upon an anvil swung slightly in the breeze. "The Arborcraft Inn is a place of friendship and mirth. Come, we shalt take our ease there for a spell."

As the hour lay midway between luncheon and supper, they had their choice of tables. Helluin moved to one at the rear and took a seat, as was her custom, with a view of the common room and door. If Malthenvab marked this he gave no sign, but sat across from her and seemed at ease. About them none sat close by, and none had paid them but passing attention. A waiter asked after their pleasure and left to retrieve their drinks.

"It seems our master Celebrimbor is now ever occupied with his projects in Khazad-dum, and spends much time in the company of Narvi, a master craftsmen of the Gonnhirrim's guild. Long years hath they collaborated in the crafting of the new doors for the west gate, and their work nears completion at last," Malthenvab reported. The wine arrived and he took a sip, releasing a sigh of approval. Helluin sampled it too and found it very good.

"It sounds like a historic project, Malthenvab," Helluin said, "I recall the entrance having but a portcullis, but that was o'er 200 years ago. It shalt be good in days to come that Khazad-dum hath a strong west door." She took another sip of wine.

"Indeed so? Their realm seemed quite the fortress to my eyes already though I hath merely entered upon the threshold only and that but once. Still, what works I hath been involved in had more to do with the enrichment and beautification of Hadhodrond, rather than increasing its impregnability. 'Twas so stark at first to my eyes."

"'Tis the aesthetic of the Naugrim, I suppose; ever is strength and readiness a concern. I deem it a native trait, their nature, if thou will. I'm sure the new doors shalt be beautiful as well as strong."

"Indeed they shalt." For several moments he fell silent, then looking up at Helluin he asked, "From Celebrimbor I hath heard that the Sarchram was empowered by the energy of thy fea. Hard as that was to believe, more curious was I as to why. Perhaps thou could enlighten me as to thy thought?"

Helluin laughed lightly at his serious and studious tone. So engaged in the arcana of craft were the guildsmen, she thought, yet 'twas that depth of curiosity made them so proficient.

"I was inspired one afternoon by a skipping stone that by chance returned nearly to my hand. Then the desire took root for the creation of a weapon that would act just so; to skip with mayhem amongst my enemies and then return to naught but my own hand."

Malthenvab regarded this with surprise and nodded for her to continue.

"With Celebrimbor and Narvi's counsel it came to us that only by binding the Grave Wing to my fea could I ensure its course in flight. Many trials we made and many alloys discarded, for such a thing must possess life unfailing and remain undamaged in use. After long years we came finally to the completion of our task. I allowed to pass into the heated metal a measure of my power, such that I could govern its action with my will. In battle it hast never failed of my desires."

"Truly amazing! I should not hath conceived thus, to bind a thing of craft to its maker. Would thou grant me a boon? Allow me to examine with my own sight this marvelous weapon? I am very curious, though the forging of weapons is not my craft."

Seeing no harm in the request, Helluin unclasped the Grave Wing from her waist and set it flat upon the table. Malthenvab eyed it closely but touched it not, yet he took in every detail and each nuance of its fabrication as if he were perceiving the secrets of its making in the sheen of its polish. He read the cirth upon it and shuddered, yet whether with dread or excitement, Helluin could not discern.

_"Mine corma i vile tuvata te. Mine corma tulta te ilya min i Cumanna ar mi moreasa neumate._**¹**_"_ He recited softly.

**¹**(**_One ring that flies to find them. One ring to send them all unto the Void and in its darkness bind them._** Quenya)

"Helluin, such a potent thing must hath demanded a great measure of power if thou would master such a fell spirit with thy spirit."

"Nay, Malthenvab, or it seemed not so to me. Though I felt the loss at the time, I hath suffered no ill of it since. Indeed I detected no change more than the donation of energy I bequeathed my daughter at her birth. Perhaps it would be otherwise for another, or for the mastering of some other object for some other purpose. I cannot say."

"Thou hast also a child?" He looked at her with even greater wonder. All knew how the gift of life could drain the fea of a mother, (the dimming of Míriel after the birth of Feanor being the prime example), and yet Helluin seemed not in the least diminished.

"Indeed so, a daughter born of my union with Veantur, Captain-Admiral of Númenor."

"A mortal? Surely thou jest! Art thou indeed still gifted with the life of the Eldar?"

"'Tis been 680 years since my daughter was born, and 220 since the creation of the Sarchram. I feel no different." She shrugged, never having really thought of these things before. She was now 5,859 years of the sun in age.

Across the table Malthenvab shook his head in amazement. The Amanyar were stronger than he had remembered, or perhaps they gained in strength with the lengthening of their years. Of old all had thought living in the Hither Lands would prove detrimental and cause them to fade, yet at least with Helluin, this had not been the case. He wondered how he himself would fare, on some day to come, if into an object of his own he would pass a measure of his power. He'd known when he heard her words that here was a challenge to his craft that could not be ignored, and that of Celebrimbor he could learn the technical aspects of its achievement. 'Twas just a matter of time.

Helluin watched many thoughts pass across the face of Malthenvab, but she could fathom none of them; 'twas most strange. Usually she had some inkling of what another thought, whether they be Elf or Man. With this craftsman though, no thought escaped. Only could she see the fierce excitement that had blossomed in his eyes, and this she attributed to the inspiration he derived from the knowledge she'd passed on about the Sarchram. She raised and drained her cup. Malthenvab did likewise and then stood.

"A Vala's blessing upon thee, Helluin," he declared, "and my thanks for thy gift of information. A lord would treasure the insights thou hath bestowed upon me, and long shalt I think on what thou hath shared. I must return to my work, for my part meshes with those of many others. I hath enjoyed our meeting this afternoon." He gave her a smile as he bowed and then made his way from the tavern.

_One ring to find them…and in darkness bind them. I like the way thou think, Helluin, and more, but I wonder if by thine own darkness thou may be ensnared. _

Helluin rose and replaced the Sarchram upon her belt ere she too left.

Three days later, Helluin and Beinvír had come to the cliff wall of Khazad-dum, and stood upon the gate path looking at the new doors. While the doors themselves seemed not so impressive at first glance, Helluin was very happy to see Celebrimbor and Narvi. The two were standing before the doors, deep in conversation, while all about them craftsmen of the city and the mountains worked together at various tasks. The two travelers approached unnoticed.

"Narvi! Celebrimbor! Greetings, my friends," Helluin called out, causing them to break off their speech and jerk around to face her. She was rewarded with broad smiles after a moment of surprise.

"Helluin, my dear, anvil and tongs! 'Tis good to see thee! Thou art well?" Narvi asked.

"Indeed so my friend," Helluin replied as she came to stand before the pair of master craftsmen. "And my greetings to thee as well," she said, smiling to Celebrimbor who graced her with a bow. She looked carefully at him but detected nothing awry.

Beside her Beinvír stood uncertainly, for though she'd met a number of Dwarves upon the way from Ost-In-Edhil, she was still nervous. Helluin though displayed no reticence and clasped the stout Dwarf in a tight hug. To Beinvír's amazement, he lifted Helluin off her feet and spun her around in a circle, much as Iarwain had spun Goldberry.

"Ho, ho, ho," he said after setting her down, "though hast gained somewhat in mass and height, for no measure can escape the eyes of old Narvi," he said, squinting and looking her over carefully. "Since last we met thou hast increased in height by three and one-quarters inches, and in mass by eight pounds." He stroked his beard, daring her to disagree.

"I should agree, for I cannot discern my own height, being denied the sight of it," Helluin said, "and as for the weight, thou art a finer judge than ever I was."

"Thou art indeed looking well, Helluin," Celebrimbor added with a smile, "hast thou seen our dear Lady Galadriel?" He winked at Helluin, knowing the Lady's rivalry and her touchiness about their relative heights.

Helluin laughed aloud. "Indeed so. I came before the Lord and Lady ere traveling hither and she actually left her dais to face me eye to eye just to make sure…then she hissed at me." Helluin laughed again at the shock on the craftsman's face. "She was quite wroth with me for having surpassed her after all this time and needed desperately to express herself. Yet with so many courtiers about she was forced to vent her displeasure as a whisper in my ear. I know not what she shalt do about it though."

For some moments they shared a laugh, then Helluin introduced the Green Elf.

"My friends, here is Beinvír, fellow of the company of Dálindir, informal king of the Galadrim," she said. Beinvír slapped her across the stomach with the back of her hand and did the two craftsmen a surprisingly graceful curtsy. Helluin chuckled. "Beinvír, may I present Celebrimbor son of Curufin, and Narvi, Master Stonewright of the Guild of Craftsmen of Khazad-dum." The two bowed to the Green Elf.

"Thou art surely of the Elven folk," Narvi said to Beinvír, "like and yet not like unto Celebri and Helluin. Pray tell me then, art thou of a different house?"

"I am of the Galadrim, Narvi, and my people derive from those who stayed in Middle Earth when the Noldor went to Beleriand and thence to Aman. Most of the differences amongst Elves come from their place on that ancient journey, and the paths their people hath walked since. My people came later to Beleriand and dwelt there in Ossiriand and Doriath during the First Age. Indeed I was born in Eriador after my people fled the drowning of Beleriand and I hath known no other home."

"And I was born in Beleriand and never knew Aman," Celebrimbor told her, "yet still am I numbered amongst the Noldor, though I learned and spoke mostly Sindarin rather than Quenya. Thou speak both Sindarin and Silvan, Beinvír?"

"In fact little do my people speak Silvan these days, having spent so long in Beleriand ere they came to Eriador. Only when in contact with Nandor from beyond Hithaeglir do both they and we speak Silvan, and such times art rare indeed. In this Second Age, the companies of Eriador became one with those of Ossiriand and adopted the Sindarin speech day to day."

"I see…I think," said Narvi, "but 'tis very confusing, I deem. We hath first a Green Elf speaking the Grey Elven tongue," he said looking at Beinvír, "a High Elf who hath never seen the Light," he said to Celebrimbor, "and what of thee, Helluin? I know thou dwelt long in Aman." He fixed his eyes upon her. With a quirk of her lip she answered.

"One might say of me that here is an Elf of Light with a dark streak."

Some time later they were seated 'neath the shade of the hedges beside the path leading to the west door. The two craftsmen had explained the status and goals of their project and the two travelers had found it suitably impressive. Now they were at ease, resting and sharing bread, cheese, and wine.

"Celebrimbor, dost thou know a craftsman or lord named Annatar?" Helluin asked. She eyed him closely, watching his reaction. He showed only confusion.

"I know naught of any by that name, Helluin, and so grandiose a name it doth be that surely I should not forget it," he answered. "Why asks thou after such a one?"

"Because his messenger came aforetime to Lindon and was turned away. Then later 'twas reported that he had come to Eregion and presented himself to thee as having been artificer to the High King, an untruth at best, for he never set foot in Lindon or Mithlond. Dark are the reports of him and in warning from the High King did I come to the Lord and Lady. Art thou sure thou know him not?"

"Indeed I know none by that name, nor any claiming such a past title. T'would be a point of great celebrity and hence carefully checked. None came to the High King begging confirmation of such a claim?"

"Nay, indeed none hath come," Helluin admitted.

"I know not what to say to thee," Celebrimbor said, "so few hath been admitted to the guild in the last forty years that I hath gained knowledge of them all. None art so high, being apprenticed to us at first, one and all."

Helluin read only truth in his face. There had been no lie in his words. Celebrimbor at least believed all that he had said and it confirmed the words of Celeborn and Galadriel. Helluin fell silent and chewed absently on her lip.

"Know thou a craftsman named Malthenvab?" She asked at last. "One of average stature and golden hair? What…?"

Celebrimbor had begun convulsing with hysterical laughter. Helluin waited out his mirth with sharp eyes and arched brow.

"Malthenvab…Golden Hand!" Celebrimbor chortled. "'Tis city slang for a pickpocket of proficient skills!" He hooted yet again and Helluin groaned. Even Beinvír giggled. When he finally mastered himself he told her that, "only two of golden hair hath we in all the guild, one remarkably thin and tall, a glazier of lamps. The other is Anthamon, who is working right over there." He pointed out another tall, thin blonde. If the glazier and not he was _remarkably_ tall and thin, than neither fit Helluin's memory of the craftsman she had met.

The news cast Helluin into a brooding silence, for little did she like being conned and confounded. Someone had picked her out and impersonated a guildsman in order to speak with her, and he had asked after the Sarchram. What could he possibly have gained from her words? Why had he bothered? She found herself in great doubt and very suspicious, and though she understood not the impersonator's intentions, she felt used and lacked no doubt of the person's power or evil nature.

"I do believe I met Annatar, though I knew it not," she finally admitted in a whisper.

The realization chilled her to the bone. She had shared table and drink with Sauron Gorthaur, and to her, he had seemed unremarkable, sincere, and fair of speech, face, and nature. She had been thoroughly hoodwinked by a lying shapeshifter, the greatest enemy of her people in Middle Earth. _I shalt never find him, for I deem he trades faces more readily than one sheds clothes. Indeed he could be anyone and anywhere and hath thus hidden for a century in plain sight. _Helluin slowly shook her head in amazement. This enemy was cunning and crafty far beyond her measure. She could not fight him.

One by one the others had come to watch her, the thoughts shifting in rapid succession across her troubled features. Seated closest at her side, only Beinvír had marked the words she'd whispered and a look of fear crossed her features.

"Whatever shalt thou do?" She asked just as softly. Helluin turned to look at her.

"Whatever can I do?" Helluin asked in return. "Even were I to line up together all the craftsmen of the guild, would he not simply appear as one of them; known to his fellows, respected above suspicion, and long familiar? Of a certainty he that I met shalt not appear, and I hath no way to discern him in different guise from all the others."

"Might thou not narrow thy choice to those known for a century or less?"

"Perhaps…" Helluin turned to Celebrimbor and asked, "How many craftsmen hath joined thy guild in the last century or so?"

Celebrimbor sat in silent thought a moment, tallying the members of the guild in his mind's eye. Finally he shrugged. "Many indeed…and the further back in time, the more I recall. Art thou quite certain of the span?"

"Nay, I am not. It might be one who hath joined thee at any time in the last 156 years, for he might hath come to thee even as his messenger came to Gil-galad."

"I see," Celebrimbor said. "Then the problem, Helluin, is that the further back the more hath joined. Not simply due to the greater span of years, but because in earlier days many joined as in a flood. Thy treaty with Khazad-dum was finalized between the guilds just ere thou left in 1123, and in the following years many joined us, indeed it seemed well nigh all the craftsmen not bound in service to a lord came hither. I would guess that betwixt 1125 and 1275 did o'er three-quarters of the present members seek admittance to the guild. In the last 156 years that number would still include o'er half the guildsmen."

Helluin shook her head in frustration. "How many be they in number?"

"Perhaps 600 to 800? I am really not sure," Celebrimbor said in amazement. In the days when he and Helluin had wrought the Sarchram, the guild had numbered about 80 craftsmen. The brotherhood's count had exploded after the treaty took effect and the news of it spread throughout Eriador. They had come hither in a deluge for well nigh a century and three-quarters, only trickling off in the last fifty years to apprentices. Now there were close to 1200 total.

Helluin felt a scream of frustration welling up in her throat. It fairly caused her to gag.

"Doth any stand out to thee as more ambitious? As consumed with lust of mastery or power? Hath thou any that cleave to dark desires in their craft or aspire to achieve things of fell intent? Do any overstep the bounds of their place, heeding no restraint in their goals to create that which should lie beyond the craft of thy people? Know thou any whose work would bring upon thee the wrath of the Valar? Hath any sought thy counsels in hopes of rebellion against the order of Arda?"

Celebrimbor had been regarding Helluin askance as her tirade gained momentum, finding her words ever more apocalyptic and harder to digest. She sounded…fanatical.

"Helluin, peace. What hath brought thee to such a pass? Surely a pickpocket swindling thee of thy confidence rankles, yet 'tis such truly cause for so much alarm? What darkness think'th thou hast taken root in the guild? What evil doth thou seek amidst its ranks?"

"I fear the influence of this Annatar upon the hearts of thy craftsmen. I fear his cunning and subtlety. I fear that he may entice some seeking grandeur in their achievements to strive after such as should not be wrought. I fear a second curse and a second darkness and a second doom."

Helluin's eyes were blazing with the heat of her passions and the built up frustration of the entire affair, the inaction of Lindon, the impotence of Ost-In-Edhil, the loss of time, and the meeting with Sauron most recent. Her rhetoric had carried the flames of her emotions and her fears, but they challenged and accused, and Celebrimbor responded no less passionately, his own eyes blazing.

"Ever do we aspire to raise the level of achievements of our hands, yes, but these art not the Elder Days. Never again shalt any create such as the Silmarils. I am not Feanor and none I know abide the curse save with loathing. We shalt not make again the same mistakes as our forefathers. Of this Annatar I know naught save that thou art become obsessed with him. He is but a name on thy lips to me, nothing more perhaps than thy fantasy! What woulds't thou hath me do? Run a rat race to satisfy thy paranoia? I hath much work and many obligations. Short is my time to indulge thee, Helluin."

"Peace, my friends," Narvi broke in, having watched the escalating wrath of both parties in embarrassed shock, "is there not some reason the thwarting of this Annatar is of such paramount importance? Surely the ambitions of a single craftsman art not so dire?"

At this, Helluin could only laugh, a bitter and hysterical outpouring of tension that came in a mirthless torrent unexplained. Celebrimbor was now all but convinced of Helluin's madness. She continued on a pace, but finally the outburst abated and she wiped her eyes and mastered her breathing.

"There is reason indeed, my dear Narvi, great reason for my fears. Thou know'th the history of the Noldor, I deem. Of how Feanor wrought three jewels containing the light of Yavanna's Trees and how Melkor incited him to pride and jealousy and possessiveness ere he stole them. The quest to repossess those jewels brought about the downfall of our people. And now Feanor's grandson rules many craftsmen of the Noldor, and Morgoth's lieutenant is come among them. To Lindon came his messenger, seeking alliance in raising a realm in the Hither Lands to rival Valinor and to seek through works of craft to hold at bay the fading and the stain of mortal lands. The Lord Annatar is naught but Sauron Gorthaur, and I met him not three days past in Ost-In-Edhil, where he passes unknown, and hath won a place in thy guild. See thou now my fears?"

"I see now aught but thy madness!" Celebrimbor cried out. "Ever hast thou decried my heritage and distrusted my heart! Now thou woulds't both tar me with the infamy of my fathers and curse me on thy own behalf! I hath done naught in offense of the Powers and of all those upon Middle Earth, surely I would know Sauron despite his guise. I should know him for his evil, not sit drinking with him in camaraderie, oblivious to his black heart. Yet I hear in thy delusion that he honors thee and asks thy counsel? Damn me not Helluin! And yes, I would hold at bay by my craft such decay of the world as I could, but I know better! 'Tis only a dream! I know such power is not given to me! I know my limits and the limits of my craft! Can'st thou claim the same?"

Ere the end of his tirade, Celebrimbor was on his feet yelling at the top of his lungs. Helluin was face to face with him, screaming just as heatedly. It took Beinvír, Narvi, and all the assembled craftsmen to separate them and drag them apart ere they came to blows. Afterwards each sat heaving for breath, red-faced, fists clenched and seething.

"Perhaps t'would be best if we left," Beinvír suggested after Helluin had calmed.

The Noldo sat a moment shaking her head. For all her differences with Celebrimbor she felt it was wrong to leave such heated words and ill feelings between them. It left her sad and deflated, another bad memory to add to her growing trove.

"I should say something to him," she muttered, rising to her feet. Beinvír was loath to let her go but didn't try to hold her back.

"Celebrimbor," Helluin called to the figure sitting rigidly with his back to her. He turned at her voice, still obviously angry. "I am sorry and I care not to leave thee with such words between us as thy last memory." She knelt on one knee a couple paces away so as not to loom over him. "Such a parting serves neither of us, for it may be many years ere we meet again. I am deeply afraid for thee and thy people, and were I to care not, then never would I hath come nigh, knowing of his presence. Indeed my fear of him would dissuade me. Please be ware in the years to come. Fail not of thy heart nor fall to his temptations no matter how fair his words be. He shalt come to thee in pretty guise and with reasonable counsel; this I doubt not. Resist him, my friend."

As she spoke, Celebrimbor had turned to face her, and now he reached out, taking her hand and clasping it tightly.

"I too would not hath us part in anger, Helluin. Fear not; I shalt watch with care, and knowing the possible danger I shalt guard against it as I may. Most of all, I fear for the Lady should thy words be true. Already it saddens me that she lives as a bird caged by her duties. I at least enjoy my work." He shook his head and sighed. "Fare thee well upon thy road, my friend."

He released her hand and after looking into each other's eyes a moment, Helluin rose and turned back to Beinvír. They collected their possessions and started down the road towards Ost-In-Edhil. Celebrimbor stood and watched them leave ere he turned back to his labors. It would be long ere they met again.

To Be Continued


	19. In An Age Before Chapter 19

**In An Age Before – Part 19

* * *

**

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**Eriador - the Second Age of the Sun**_

Helluin had just finished adding the last of her spices to a cauldron of stew as the light of Anar faded behind the Ered Luin in the west. Indeed the vessel of Arien had for some time been 'neath the horizon, but now the glow upon the clouds had died and its rumor had fled the sky. The flames of her cook fire cast flickering shadows amongst the trees where they danced tirelessly as they strengthened for another night's revels. Overhead the vault of the Ilmen darkened and began to show forth the multitude of stars. As always, Helluin found the sight comforting. It helped ease the ever-creeping dread in her heart. For a long time she had heard naught from Ost-In-Edhil; no word had come from Celeborn or Galadriel to Lindon. It was 15Gwaeron, (March 15th), S.A. 1375.

To her amazement as the years passed, Beinvír had remained in her company. They had not returned to Ost-In-Edhil after leaving Khazad-dum, for Helluin deemed the danger too great. Sauron had almost surely known of her trip to visit Celebrimbor and she had nothing new to report to Celeborn or Galadriel. Instead they had gone west, crossing the Glanduin and then the lands of Central Eriador.

Along the way they had walked the downs at Beinvír's insistence, and true to the words that Helluin remembered Dálindir had spoken, no trace of the house of Iarwain Ben-adar did they find. The smallish vale lay wild and deserted, the falls and stream running their natural course down into the forest. The two friends had camped there for a night, much to Helluin's displeasure, but the stars above had shown down as they always had and the moon stood bright, three days on the wane past full. Still Helluin had rested not, feeling skittish and ill at ease as she humored her friend.

Beinvír had stood watch all night, hoping to catch some glimpse of the strange abode of their sometimes host, or maybe even of her companions, but naught of either did she see. In the morning light she had sat beside the falls and cried. Helluin had sat down beside her, gathered her in her arms and held her. Afterwards they spoke not of the incident, but traveled together, meeting at times other companies of Sindar and Laiquendi, and yet had they remained together. None they met had tidings of Dálindir or his company.

Neither had they returned to Lindon. Helluin had no desire to present herself at court and no summons from the High King requiring her presence had found her. Even less did she desire to bring Beinvír into the city or leave her alone outside it.

Helluin had found the Green Elf to be more enjoyable company then she had expected, and was now engaged in learning her woodscraft. The ability to appear or disappear at will had always intrigued Helluin from her first contact with Dálindir in Ossiriand long before; 'twas a skill, a challenge, and in the wild, one that could be very useful. So far she had spent 32 years under Beinvír's tutelage and she felt she'd made progress. As she stirred the cauldron, she projected her senses, trying to discern her friend's approach.

Eventually the slightest sound of a footstep betrayed by a snapping twig reported the passage of one coming 'nigh from the east in stealth. Helluin withdrew outside the circle of fire light and waited in the shadow of a tree. She identified and ignored each separate and familiar forest sound. What remained, that which had no right place, were the sounds of breathing, coming to her faintly 'neath the whisper of the wind, just as her friend had described so many times. Then Helluin closed her eyes and pinpointed the source; two walking carefully eleven fathoms away. First one moved forward, then the other, never the two together…'twas the manner of Sindar stalking. They were coming towards the fire, the only source of light in the forest for many leagues.

So then where was Beinvír? Helluin moved her right hand an inch with each breath, slowly down to grasp the Sarchram, freeing it from its catch. The Sindar were now but six fathoms away and she saw a shadow move, then the other, and then the first again. They stopped outside the light of the flames and waited. She saw them make hand signs between them and nod in agreement, _no patience_, she thought, and they stepped out into the light. From seven fathoms to her right she detected the slow stretching of a bowstring; Beinvír at last.

Now Helluin watched their eyes; _everyone blinks by reflex even when they know it not, so if thou move only when thou see them blink, they shalt mark thee not._ She saw indeed the quick unconscious blinks the Green Elf had described. The Sindar were searching the darkness all around the camp. Helluin moved each time they blinked. Her cloak of broken greens hid her form and distorted the telltale outline of her body. When she finally chose to move when they weren't blinking, she would seem to appear before them from nothing. She was but a fathom to their left when she suddenly stood. Even as she did it she couldn't believe the illusion had worked.

"Who art thou that come thus uninvited to my camp?" She asked with authority while the two grey-cloaked figures still reeled from her unexpected appearance. Though she had their stealth, she was no Green Elf. At first they made no answer and she revealed the Grave Wing from behind her back.

"Thy pardon, I pray thee," the nearer said, being the first to find his voice, "we came hither to pass a message to any we find in Eriador, by command of the king in Lindon." He sketched a hasty bow, then nudged his fellow's ribs and the second bowed as well.

"'Tis thy message to anyone or to everyone?" Helluin asked. Behind her she heard the softest of sounds as Beinvír replaced her arrow into the quiver. She would arrive in a few moments.

"Indeed 'tis to everyone, being deemed tidings of general interest to all the kindreds," the second said. "I am Nennún and this is Nathron**¹**. May we sit to share them?"

**¹**(**Nennún, _Water Born,_** and **Nathron, _Weaver._** Sindarin)

Helluin nodded to the ground beside the fire and then moved around to sit facing them from the opposite side. Out of the corner of her eye she noted the Green Elf slipping closer, no doubt not intending to reveal her presence until she was right beside the messengers. Helluin grinned and kept their attention.

"So what word from Lindon, my friends?" Helluin asked, reattaching the Sarchram to her belt. She cocked a brow at them in question.

"We were sent forth from Lindon, but the tidings come indeed from Eregion," Nennún clarified.

"Word hath come of late reporting trouble in that land," Nathron began, "and from companies 'nigh Ost-In-Edhil it hath been heard of the expulsion of the Lord and Lady, and the assumption of power by Celebrimbor and the Gwaith-I-Mirdain."

"The Gwaith-I-Mirdain? How? When?" Helluin could hardly believe her ears. _The People of the Jewel Smiths?_ "What of the Lord and Lady? Whither goes't they?"

"'Tis said the guild chaffed long under the rule of the Lord and Lady, and of late had they become ever more remote. At last the rank and file rebelled and named Celebrimbor Lord of Eregion on 17 Narwain, (January 17th)…indeed they did so during his absence and then recalled him at once to Ost-In-Edhil. No harm hath come to Celeborn or Galadriel; indeed none dared lay hands upon them or their household. The guild would not survive a war of the Sindar against their number had they let Celeborn come to harm. Likewise would the Noldor of Lindon rise against them should ill befall Galadriel. Instead the guild hast convinced them to leave, saying they had no place in a city of smiths," Nennún told her.

"'Tis said the Lord and Lady had the favor of the Lord of Khazad-dum, and he granted them passage through his mansions to the east. This though hath not been confirmed," Nathron added.

Helluin could only shake her head in amazement. The upheaval had occurred much sooner and much more smoothly than she had suspected. She noted that Beinvír had seated herself to the side, unmarked by the messengers.

"Say not that the Lord and Lady went into exile alone," the Green Elf asked.

The two Sindar jerked around at the sound of her voice and stared at her in shock. She was certainly one of the illusive Green Elves.

"N-nay, th-they went not unaccompanied. Indeed many of their people went with them," Nennún stammered.

Helluin sat in silence digesting all she had heard. Amongst the guildsmen had the old resentment of Celeborn and Galadriel been fanned into rebellion, and she could easily imagine just who had accomplished that. Little by little Sauron had engineered the Lord and Lady's estrangement and isolation from their people. He had no doubt managed to make them appear distant and uncaring. Then with a whisper in one ear or a poisoned word to others over drinks, he had promoted disaffection throughout the guild. Drawing on the craftsmen's devotion to their guildmaster, he had arranged Celebrimbor's rise in popularity, making him the obvious choice for the new leader; one intimately involved with, and respected by his people. Indeed he had already long been leader of the craftsmen, and 'twas the guild that had most enriched the city. The populace would have aligned behind him easily enough.

But Celebrimbor had been off in Khazad-dum, and Helluin very much wanted to believe that he'd had little to do with the rebellion...indeed certain small and subtle details she recalled of her last talks with Galadriel and Celebrimbor strongly led her to think just that. _She'd come to think so highly of him. He had feared most of all for her._ The son of Curufin had probably been shocked when he'd been drafted as the new Lord of Eregion. Whatever his aspirations had originally been, he seemed to have accepted the Lord and Lady's rule and immersed himself in his works. In the end, perhaps he had even arranged with the Lord of Khazad-dum for Galadriel and Celeborn's safe passage; a gesture of farewell to a love unrequited and perhaps undeclared, doomed by fate and time, and buried amidst the change and confusion. At least the Lord and Lady were safe.

But that left Celebrimbor alone in the hands of Sauron, and now Helluin felt it would be only a matter of time ere the fallen Maia corrupted him. She remembered his heated words, _"…yes, I would hold at bay by my craft such decay of the world as I could, but I know better! 'Tis only a dream! I know such power is not given to me! I know my limits and the limits of my craft!"_

_But thou dost not know the measure of power given to Sauron Gorthaur_, she thought, _nor dost thou know his cunning or his persuasiveness. Indeed none truly do. The desire is there within thee, and he hath time and perhaps the means to make thy dreams come true. I fear for thee, my friend. Resist him._

"What shalt thou do, Helluin?" Beinvír asked softly. Helluin looked up at her and blinked, drawn forth from rumination by her voice.

"I hath no idea, my friend. Indeed I know not if there is anything I can do." _I certainly cannot recoup the past,_ she thought,_ roll back the days and make things as they were. _"An end must come of all things in Middle Earth," she whispered to herself, "and all that stands shalt one day be but memories and dust." Beinvír merely nodded at her sad words.

To still somewhat the racing of her mind, Helluin brought forth bowls and ladled stew out for each of them, and afterwards shared out a skin of wine from the vineyards of the Men who lived about Lake Nenuial. 'Twas a vintage much the same as that Dálindir had shared with her over a century before.

Nennún and Nathron were gracious guests and thankful for the fare. And in desire to contribute what they could, they sought deadfall for the fire, for the night grew chill as it deepened. At last, with the fire banked, all lay down to rest, clearing their minds and staring up at the stars as their breathing slowed and their bodies relaxed.

What indeed shalt I do? What can I do? Helluin tried to isolate her options and goals. Restoring Celeborn and Galadriel's rule in Eregion would not only be futile, but also dangerous for them with Sauron in residence and unidentified. So then how did he intend to go about subverting the guild to his vision of creating a Valinor on the Hither Shores? She found no answers to her questions within her wisdom. What next then?

How fared Celeborn and Galadriel, she wondered? Did they indeed pass through Khazad-dum and into the east? If so then they should have first encountered the Nandor of Lindórinand. Had they become the guests of King Lenwin and Lady Calenwen? And would they be any safer in Rhovanion? Did the migrations of Yrch and Eastern Men continue? Perhaps they had sought instead the Nando-Sindarin kingdom of Oropher in Greenwood. He had come at first from Eregion and was known to them. Yet how would they be received by the Onodrim? By Oldbark and Leaflock and all the others? Would they be endangered by the Huorns? Or perhaps they had decided to travel further yet, to make their way south down Anduin answering the call of the sea, and thence even to the kingdom of Belfalas where King Lenwe would welcome them and beg of them tidings of the west. Yet that way would bring them 'nigh Mordor, and if they were recognized, then into great danger would they tread.

Mordor…how far had Sauron's host grown? It had been 218 years since Helluin had espied it last in 1125. How far had the Dark Tower risen in her absence? What lieutenant ruled that Black Land and held the reins of power on Sauron's behalf? Having accomplished his coup in Eregion, would Sauron return thither for a spell, or would he continue to press forward the downfall of the Noldor in Ost-In-Edhil?

I should guess Sauron shalt continue his course in Eregion, she decided, thinking tactically, placing his efforts in securing his power through the manipulation of Celebrimbor. Now while Celebrimbor's position is still in flux and the realm disordered may he most easily set new precedents and goals. Were I him, I would capitalize on the momentum generated by the rebellion ere it falters. I should set for the Guild a new course. Yes, Sauron shalt remain in Ost-In-Edhil. And I have not the power to wrest from him the soul of Celebrimbor. _Alas, I too know the limits of my craft, my friend, and I am sorry_.

So then it comes to the welfare of Celeborn and Galadriel. I doubt not that they art capable of forging friendships on their own, and yet those they shalt move amongst art long known to me. If indeed they hath come to Lindórinand, then perhaps some good shalt come of it. Perhaps through them, King Lenwin shalt see the Naugrim as friends and allies at last. How could he not, when to him the Gonnhirrim deliver such as the Lord and Lady? And shalt they not impress upon him the danger he faces? The necessity of standing together when the time comes? Indeed I believe it shalt be so, and I should be loath to waste the opportunity when 'tis fresh. Indeed, to Lenwin should I make my way thither, to offer counsel and tidings. Besides, Galadriel shan't give him a moment's peace 'till she discovers the secrets of his enchanted stream, of which he know'th 'naught at all. So be it then, I shalt go thither to Lindórinand.

Helluin felt much more relaxed having come to a decision, but then another thought assailed her, one she had become of late concerned with all the more. Shalt Beinvír be willing to accompany me hence? She hast never journeyed beyond Eriador. Hast she any interest in seeing the lands of the Nandor yon Hithaeglir? We need not pass through Hadhodrond, but might instead come o'er the High Pass of Caradhras, or even travel through the gap south of Methedras. T'would be a long journey sure, but not made in greatest haste. I shalt speak of it to her in the morning, Helluin decided.

But then the thought came to her; _what if she refuses?_ What if she wishes not to leave Eriador? It hast ever been her home. For the first time in a very long time, Helluin found herself desiring another's company upon the road simply for the sake of their companionship. Worse yet, she found herself wishing not to travel without her friend.

In shock at this revelation she asked herself, when did such a change come upon me? Whence came this unwillingness to venture forth out of her company? Always I took it for granted that Amandil would not journey with me, and never did I shy from the road. Ever did Veantur desire to sail forth, and ever did I accompany him, knowing that such should not forever be. Yet never did I feel both this uncertainty and need together, to have the company of another or travel in sadness at the parting. And we hath traveled together but 32 years, Helluin thought in amazement, 'tis but a paltry time to hath wrought upon my spirit such a change. She stared up at the stars in amazement until the glow of morning grew in the east.

With the dawn Helluin sat up and looked around. The Sindar were still about their rest, unmoving. A look over at Beinvír revealed the Green Elf still lying flat on her back, but regarding her now out of the corners of her eyes.

"What rind of thought hast caught in thy craw all this night, Helluin?" She asked ere she yawned and stretched. She sat up and turned to face her friend. "Thou hath been thinking so loudly through the dark hours that barely could I rest for the grumbling of thy churning mind."

Helluin blushed and gave her an apologetic smile.

"I pray thy pardon for the din of my repose. Indeed I hath been occupied in thought…"

"Helluin, thou hath been brooding," Beinvír accused in jest. She offered a smile to soften her words.

"Indeed so, my friend," Helluin admitted, "and many things hath crossed my mind. One being the benefits of going hence to Lindórinand, there to meet with King Lenwin and look after the welfare of Celeborn and Galadriel. I deem this a chance to widen somewhat the options of the Nandor of Celebrant against the threats yet to come." She paused and looked hopefully at Beinvír, who was listening closely to her. "T'would be a moderate journey and the season early for travel, but the way is easy enough. I am hoping greatly that thou would find some interest in such a trip and agree to accompany me thither." She waited in suspense for Beinvír's answer, nervously chewing her lip.

For her part, Beinvír sat desperately containing her excitement. In the past she had first invited herself into Helluin's company, and thereafter they had merely wandered to and fro aimlessly. In that time, Beinvír had learnt as much from Helluin as had Helluin learned from her. Indeed she now bore a short sword upon her belt, and she had been taught well in its use. She had learnt many songs and words in several tongues, and she had heard the most amazing stories of places faraway and strange. The world was much greater and wider than Eriador. And now for the first time the dour Noldo was actually requesting her company on a long trip! Beinvír could see the uncertainty in Helluin's eyes, having come to be able to read much of her moods, and it was exciting to her. Helluin really wanted her to join her on the road! There was no way in Middle Earth that she would pass up such an opportunity. Nevertheless…

"Thou seek not to approach Sauron again?" She asked just to make sure. "Nor doth thou intend to visit the Black Land?" The stories she had heard about both left her shaking in terror. Helluin had said that none in their right mind sought out The Abhorred, and yet such was exactly what had happened aforetime; nay, even worse. Indeed he had sought out Helluin. He _knew_ her!

"Nay, I am even loath to approach Ost-In-Edhil. No plans have I to come 'nigh any fell realm, nor seek after danger upon the road, though of course I should be lying were I to say that none might seek us out first."

'Twas too good to be true, Beinvír thought. "Of course I shalt be happy to accompany thee, Helluin, provided I shan't be compelled to run all the way to Rhovanion 'neath the lash of thy haste."

Helluin was so happy that she actually laughed out loud. "We shalt journey at a comfortable pace," she promised happily, "and see perhaps many wonders, or at least some fresh scenery. In fact, I have thought to go by way of the gap 'twixt the Hithaeglir and the Ered Nimrais, making a stop at Vinyalonde to seek tidings of Westernesse."

At this, Beinvír's eyes grew wide with a familiar surprise. "Thou seek after the Men of Númenor? But Helluin, they art the most wanton of tree hewers upon Middle Earth! Or at least, so I hath heard, for rarely do any of my people travel in the south of Minhiriath."

"I too hath heard those tidings, and well do I know of the Númenóreans' lust after timber for their ships. I should like to see for myself the truth of these rumors, since we shalt be passing 'nigh that land. I am very curious. Yet I hath known the Númenóreans aforetime and hath some entrance amongst them should we meet. More wary am I of the Enedwaith, and some amongst the southern fisher folk. They fear and hate us."

"Bah! They hath neither eyes nor ears," Beinvír stated dismissively. "Such would not see us though we danced before them in the light of day. They art dense even for mortals."

"Then we shalt go thither? Together?"

"So we shalt, my friend, to see the hewers of trees and the oblivious fishmongers of the coast, and better they than those encountered amongst friends upon our last journey."

Having decided their course, Beinvír laughed and Helluin grinned, and they woke up the Sindar and bid them share their breakfast.

The way to Vinyalonde ran o'er 220 leagues from the place of their camp, and they traveled on average seven leagues a day. On 21 Narwain, they crossed the River Lune after three days' walking, and on the evening of the 24th came to the Emyn Uial. The next night they spent near a settlement of Men upon the shore of Lake Nenuial. There Helluin gathered such tidings as had come to the ears of those settlers; that wolves had been few the winter past, that the omens bode fine weather for traveling, and that despite snowmelt and early spring rains, Baranduin flowed not so swollen as to make for a difficult fording. The last news in particular was welcome.

In her travels Helluin had come amongst these Men many a time over the last 1350 years. They regarded her as something of a legend; known but not expected, and wont to appear unlooked for after a few or many lives of their kind. These Men were distant kin of the Númenóreans, being descended from the kindred of Beor and Hador. They had never served Morgoth and had respect and friendship with the Elves of Eriador. In the early years after the drowning of Beleriand, they had fought bravely against the evil creatures that had fled the defeat of Morgoth in the War of Wrath. In some of their early meetings, Helluin had aided them against brigands, wolves, and Yrch.

At their leave taking, the Men gifted the travelers with wine and cheese such as they could carry, while Helluin left with them several flutes she had carved and Beinvír with forest herbs to improve their health.

On 20 Narwain Helluin and Beinvír came again to the place where the forest met the South Downs at the falls of the Withywindle. Again at Beinvír's plea they encamped for a night. And yet again they saw no trace of the house of Maldiaving and Iarwain Ben-adar. Despite being sad for the obvious hurt this did her friend's heart, Helluin felt far less a measure of sorrow than relief. Neither had she been required to meet again the bizarre beings there, nor had she lost her companion to a reunion with her king and his company. Dálindir, Gérorn, and Celegaras remained out of the world and 114 years had passed. Helluin wondered if Iarwain hadn't skinned them all.

**To Be Continued**

8


	20. In An Age Before Chapter 20

**In An Age Before – Part 20

* * *

**

**Chapter Seventeen**

_**Enedwaith and Vinyalonde - the Second Age of the Sun**_

Helluin and Beinvír continued south the next morning, finding the Baranduin on the 31st and following it to the South Road. 7 Gwirith, (April 7th), arrived with the River Glanduin and the ford where was later built Tharbad. Indeed here they were but 78 miles from Ost-In-Edhil and upon the borders of Enedwaith, and so they went forward with watchful eyes though all had seemed quiet upon the road. After crossing at the ford, Helluin and Beinvír entered the forest, keeping to the river's eastern bank, and they breathed sighs of relief as the boles of the great trees closed in all 'round them. Now Vinyalonde lay 80 leagues downstream.

What they had seen while traversing Minhiriath was as it had always been; a deep forest of mixed hardwoods, oak, hickory, ash, locust, poplar, and elm. The wood continued unbroken on either side of the River Glanduin. Being a mature forest with a high and continuous canopy, the ground 'nigh the bank lay not choked with bramble or briar, but only carpeted with deadfall and leafmould, mosses and a few shade loving herbs. Walking was easy for Elves. It was also much safer. Any that they should meet in this wood they could more easily avoid amongst the trees than on a road, and indeed any they would likely meet they should avoid, for they had now passed from Minhiriath into Enedwaith**¹**.

**¹**(**Enedwaith, _"Middle Land", _**_but also** "Middle Folk"**._ Suffix **-gwaith** (people, country) Sindarin. Much later the Rohirrim would come to call them the Dunlendings and their land, Dunland).

Enedwaith, the lands betwixt Glanduin and Angren**¹** had for long years been the home of a kindred of warlike Men. These hunters of the forests were ancient in origin and lived in independent settlements under no single overlord or king. 'Twas not known if they had their ancestry in common with those who had come east at Morgoth's call, or if they had been there since the first migrations of Men westwards from Hildorien. They were but slightly shorter than the Edain yet powerfully built, somewhat swarthy, and dark of hair and eye. Their harsh sounding language was sundered from that of other Men, even the Easterlings of the First Age, and other Men considered it incomprehensible. Only with those fisher folk of the coast did they share this tongue. Their numbers were greater than the Men of Eriador, and they had no friendship with the Elves. Rumor said that they had been, or still were cannibals, and that they took body parts as trophies of their vanquished. Indeed these rumors were unconfirmed, but what was known with certainty was that they dressed in skins, cultivated no plants, domesticated no animals, wrote no letters, fired no pottery, fought amongst themselves, and were perilous to strangers.

**¹**(**Glanduin**, _"**Border River",**_ later the** Gwathlo**, or Greyflood, and **Sîr Angren**, the **River Isen**. Sindarin)

Helluin and Beinvír went forward with senses sharp and took no unnecessary chances. The Enedwaith, as they were called by those of Eriador, were stealthy after their fashion, being hunters, but not sufficiently so to surprise wary Elves. The greatest danger wasn't in being taken unawares, but rather being ambushed by a company in hiding while moving to avoid another. The two friends took to resting in the trees, lighting no fires, and moving always in sight of one another. During the first three days in the forest they twice detoured around settlements, heard hunting bands at some distance, and came upon the scavenged remains of animals slaughtered and dressed in the field. The constant tension much reduced their joy in the surroundings.

"'Tis another reeking village ahead," Beinvír reported after sniffing the scant breeze. She made a disgusted face and indicated the direction with a nod of her head. A stench of mixed sweat, excrement, smoke, and rancid grease wafted to their noses.

"We must move upwind, else the miasma shalt cloak the body odors of approaching hunters," Helluin said with a grimace. "'Tis a wonder the game hath not all long fled this land." She shook her head. "Come, let us go east apace."

Beinvír nodded in agreement. The route would take them further from the riverbank, but at least they would again be able to smell any hunters coming 'nigh long ere they became a danger. "Another detour in the stinking forest," she muttered in irritation.

They made a circuit of five miles to avoid the settlement, following game trails whenever possible. Along the way they found and freed a small forest pig from a pit trap and a pair of rabbits from leg snares. With an evil grin, Helluin reset the snares across the path where she expected the hunters to make their way when they came to check their traps. Beinvír shook her head in amusement as she watched. Her own penchant was to simply trip the snares with a stick, leaving them sprung but with nothing edible for the effort. They had been doing thus for the last few days, keeping a friendly competition between them as to how many each could detect and foil. Their circuit around the settlement was coming to its end as the day was falling to dusk when they heard another animal struggling to free itself somewhere up ahead. Both stopped to pinpoint the sounds.

"That way," Beinvír said, pointing over a low rise to their west.

"Closer to the village, of course," Helluin muttered, starting in that direction.

"'Tis late for checking traps," Beinvír offered, "perhaps whatever is caught won't be discovered ere the morn."

"Or perhaps 'tis the last trap in a line to be checked this eve," Helluin said, playing Morgoth's advocate, "and we shalt meet the hunter to contest the disposition of his catch."

"Thy depth of pessimism never fails," Beinvír noted, barely hiding a grin.

"To balance thy optimism on doom's scales," Helluin retorted before sharply raising a hand, "hush now, listen."

From the distance came the unmistakable sound of footsteps hastily approaching. This time it seemed that Helluin's dire expectations were correct. One of the Enedwaith had come to check the snare from which he heard the sounds of a struggle. Helluin and Beinvír silently hastened forward, flitting from shadow to shadow. The hunter came on towards them, heedlessly crashing through the deadfall and leafmould.

The hunter reached the trap first, but his whoop of joy at his good fortune was quickly drowned by cries of fear, growling and snarling, and bodies thrashing on the ground. Ere Helluin and Beinvír could arrive to intervene, there came the dull thud of a heavy impact and a whimper. A Man stood with a braining club raised overhead, but ere his second blow could fall, an arrow from Beinvír's bow tore it from his grasp. And then Helluin was standing over his catch with a drawn sword but inches from his chest, eyes blazing with blue fire, hair in wild disarray from the speed of her haste. Rather than speak to him, which she knew would be pointless, she growled and lunged at him, making contact with Anguirel but not impaling him upon the point. The hunter shrieked and fled. The unsatisfied black sword grumbled softly for want of blood as she sheathed it.

And now Helluin looked down to confirm what she had seen, shaking her head at the improbability of the situation. 'Twas a full grown wolf lying stretched out, still breathing but unconscious, having taken a stout blow to the head with the heavy studded club. It had probably been a lucky shot on the hunter's part, defensive instinct taking over when he had been attacked by the bitch who'd been standing guard o'er her trapped young. Beinvír was already freeing the pup, a growling, spitting ball of fur no larger than a coney. The mother was probably 90 pounds and out cold. The hunter would regain his nerves, enlist his fellows, and reappear as soon as he could. The situation was ludicrous.

Helluin's first impulse was to walk away. Neither Elves nor Men ever had alliance with wolves. Indeed wolves had stood in the ranks of Morgoth aforetime and neither kindred forgot it. But then aside from the recreational value of scaring the _Enedweg_**¹**, she'd have revealed their presence for nothing were she to not ensure the wolves' survival. _At least they shalt harry the hunters to some profit in the future, _she thought. Beinvír had the pup securely wrapped in her arms and was looking at her. Helluin groaned and then stooped, getting her arms 'neath the unconscious wolf and hoisting it onto her shoulders. It groaned weakly but didn't struggle. _No doubt it shalt come awake of a sudden and bite off my ear, _she thought. She looked over and saw her friend chuckling at her. Helluin could only roll her eyes and began walking back the way they'd come.

**¹**(**Enedweg, **singular of Enedwaith. Sindarin)

Eventually Helluin too began to laugh. They had progressed perhaps a mile through the forest by then, moving hastily southeast as night had fallen. To her came the thought of the hunter hysterically proclaiming his story to his disbelieving fellows. To hear his tale, of mad Elves running amok through their hunting grounds in league with wolves, would almost be worth learning the uncouth Enedwaith speech. The wolf grumbled feebly on her shoulder and Beinvír regarded her askance over her shoulder.

"Hath she tickled thee to mirth?" The Green Elf asked as if hopeful.

"Nay. 'Twas but the thought of the hunter's tale to his mates that made me laugh," Helluin told her. "The wolf shalt surely awaken and consume that part of me closest, I wager."

Beinvír looked back and noted the wolf's muzzle draped over Helluin's left breast.

"Thy mail shalt turn her bite in that case," Beinvír said, her eyes alight with silent laughter. "Thou art well protected from that wolf's suckling." She snickered.

Helluin growled. The idea of suckling a wolf was repulsive. Wolves had been enemies; the servants and allies of Morgoth. Helluin would hath preferred suckling the pig. She had at times wondered at Beinvír's humor.

"A league we must put 'twixt ourselves and the trap," she grumbled and sped her pace.

"And now we run like rabbits bearing our hunters hence in our arms," the Green Elf muttered as she hastened to follow.

At somewhat less than a league they were forced to stop. The wolf had come to a groggy wakefulness and had begun a weak struggling. Helluin laid her down on some bracken 'neath a spreading yew and settled beside her. Beinvír joined them, placing the pup next to its mother. That seemed to placate her somewhat, and for a time the two creatures nosed and licked each other. The mother settled with the pup near her chin, her eyes focused warily on the two Elves. When she could muster the energy, she bared her fangs and growled low in her throat.

Beinvír found a slab of bark and set it before them in a hollow, then laid leaves over it and poured in some water from a skin. The wolf and her pup sniffed it suspiciously ere they drank. The Green Elf refilled it twice ere they'd slaked their thirst. For her part, Helluin selected some herbs that she knew to have some virtue against head wounds and she crumbled these, making of them a paste with a small amount of water. She then engaged the wolf eye to eye and began to softly sing a song in the Quenya tongue. The wolf shortly gave a great yawn, blinked sleepily, and soon thereafter dozed off. Still singing, Helluin snatched her muzzle, worked open her mouth, and then painted the herb paste far back upon her tongue. The wolf jerked to wakefulness at the cessation of the song and made a pitiful whining as she worked her jaws, but she swallowed the paste and licked at the wet leaves. She gave Beinvír a beseeching look that earned her a grin and another measure of water to wash down the bitter tasting medicine. Shortly the herbs did their work and the wolf shut her eyes and slept.

"And so now I hath become savior and healer to one of Morgoth's hounds," Helluin muttered, "'Herbalist to Fell Dogs' I shalt add to my titles in the future."

"I think not that this wolf is of Morgoth's fold," Beinvír said seriously, looking closely at the sleeping animals, "but rather that they are merely hunters as Iluvatar created them, and perhaps hath some honor of their own. Was not the bitch injured in defense of her pup? Surely such is the action of a caring mother regardless of her kind?"

"Thy words make some sense," Helluin admitted as she too regarded the animals. "They appear to be naught more than they seem. Neither do they bear the markings of Bauglir, nor the ravening behavior of our enemies of old. And they are far removed from the drowned north in place and time." She sat silent for many moments simply looking down at the drowsing creatures. "In any case, I should not see them taken thus in a trap, for such an end seems ignoble to me beyond their just wages. In the morn we shalt leave and wish them well." Beinvír nodded in agreement.

Being on the ground this night, the Elves took turns resting their minds through the hours of darkness, and when the sun arose and the light returned they gathered their things and departed, leaving the wolf and her pup behind. 'Twas the fifth day of their journey through the forest and they had covered 35 of the 80 leagues to Vinyalonde. As yet they had seen no evidence of the Men of Númenor.

On the sixth day they crossed a small tributary stream, no more than a creek really, and reckoned themselves halfway through their journey. They had continued to circumvent Enedwaith settlements at the rate of about one or two a day while avoiding hunting parties at about the same rate, and they had continued to free such animals as they found trapped. Their journey gave them an appreciation of just how populous the forest had become; even were settlers more plentiful 'nigh the river, still Enedwaith hosted more people by far than Eriador. 'Twas disconcerting, discovering such a wealth of potential enemies whom Sauron could enlist, and that they dwelt so close.

'Twas on their ninth day in the forest when they finally came upon evidence of the Númenóreans, and this was a swath of forest 'nigh the banks of Glanduin that had been cut clear of timber sometime in the past. They were yet eight leagues north of Vinyalonde, and it seemed the site had been chosen for the gentle slope of its banks down to the water.

All about them grew an untidy mix of new growth forest; evergreen trees under a hand's width of trunk, many understory plants including brambles with thorny runners that made passage impossible, and leafy herbaceous species of myriad kinds. Here sunlight dappled the growth through a broken canopy, early flowers attracted a few bees, and birds flitted amongst the branches. Squirrels chased one another 'round narrow trunks amidst a scent of pine. 'Twas not altogether unpleasant, but both Elves could in their mind's eyes, behold the barren earth and sad stumps left behind at the time of the cutting.

"'Tis as I had suspected," Beinvír said, "not a bole left unfelled and no thought given to replanting."

Helluin only nodded. She had seen just such aforetime in Númenor itself. Whole tracts denuded for the lumber to build ships. Yet there, Aldarion and others before him had replanted in earnest. It seemed the Men of Westernesse cared less for the Hither Lands than for their own. She led them around the area.

During the next two days such sights became ever more common, while at the same time, the presence of native settlements trailed off. It seemed the Enedwaith wanted no part of the Númenóreans and took pains to avoid them. Helluin and Beinvír knew not which ill they reckoned less welcome but they proceeded hence on their way south.

In the afternoon of their eleventh day in the forest they heard voices from a distance singing in the Adûnaic tongue, and Helluin smiled for she recognized the sea chanty as one sung by sailors out of the West. The two Elves made their way towards the sounds, noting that the singing gave a beat to the ringing of axes. Just as they drew nigh, they heard a tortured creaking and splitting followed by the rushing of something large through many branches, and then a great crash. They felt the impact through the ground at their feet and Beinvír stopped dead in her tracks, gasping, a hand pressed to her chest, her eyes wide. Helluin gave her a grim nod and again they made their way forward.

They came to the place where a crew had felled a large white pine, straight and unbranched, and well 'nigh 25 fathoms in height. Such a tree would take centuries to grow. It seemed that the Men had desired and taken only one, though why that should be the Elves knew not. The Men were gathered solemnly about the fallen giant, axes in hand, as if in a mute tribute. They paid the Elves little attention at first as they came 'nigh. Finally one looked up at them and hailed them in Sindarin.

"Greetings, thou of the Eldar kindred. Few of thy folk hath we ever seen amidst these woods. Pray tell, what hath brought thee hither?"

"'Twas to survey the havens of the Dúnedain and to hear tidings of what passeth across the sea," Helluin said, "and perhaps to share with thee somewhat of news from the Hither Lands if thou hath not heard it aforetime. Tell me then, mariners from the West, what passeth in Andor? Doth Tar-Ancalime rule still or hath the Lord Anarion yet come to the throne? How fares the Guild of Venturers?"

The man who had first spoken came and led them to a patch of shade, and there he offered them wine and food, sailor's biscuits, stew, and nuts. He named himself Alagos, (which signifies Windstorm), master carpenter of the ship,_ Roval_**¹** He gave Helluin many glances as if to repeatedly assure himself of her presence, and after they had made themselves comfortable, he began to speak.

**¹**(**Roval, _"Great Wing"._** Sindarin)

"Unless my eyes doth lie unshamed, then to thee my land is well known," he said. "And though I make the years well 'nigh 250 since last thou set foot upon Westernesse, yet again doth thy like walk upon our shores. Indeed Tar-Ancalime hath passed on the scepter and hath gone beyond the world 90 years past. Her Heir rules now, he being Tar-Anarion, who was known to thee aforetime. Yet 'tis of his granddaughter, Telperion of whom I speak. She is now 55 years of age, a great beauty who stands in thy image even as her great-grandmother Ancalime did in her time. Indeed having seen Telperion with my own eyes, I am amazed! Not merely a resemblance doth thou bear unto each other, but rather thou art in appearances identical. Thus thou art unmistakable, Helluin of the Noldor, though small did I ever deem my chances of meeting thee in this life."

"Another one," Helluin muttered to herself, noting the wide-eyed stare of Beinvír at what Alagos had claimed.

To Beinvír, Helluin said, "T'would seem my looks art greatly favored in shaping Númenórean women of royal blood."

To Alagos she said, "Thou art correct. I am Helluin, and 'tis most unlikely that thou and I should meet in any other life but this. In truth thy news brings me wonder, for I thought Ancalime a fluke. Telperion is removed from me by no less than six generations. How long shalt the effect persist I wonder? Nevertheless thou say that Tar-Anarion rules now in Númenor? Doth thou know aught of his policies?"

"Tar-Anarion took the scepter in 1280, and rapidly did he make known his intention to look to the Hither Lands. He holds the Guild in honor and hath resumed the aid of our people to those of Middle Earth. Embassies did he send thither to Lindon, to thy High King, Gil-galad. There tidings were made known to him of the evil arising in Middle Earth. Unfortunately the king had little to report save that which had come to Anarion's ears from thine own mouth in Númenor. Little of news had the Elven King to share until of late, and that being his concerns for the realm of Eregion and his suspicions of Gorthaur abiding there. Our king hath commanded us to gather what news we can, and to reestablish the havens that Tar-Aldarion founded of old. Much work is needed," he said, shaking his head, "for long has been their neglect and great is their disrepair."

"Alagos, to thy store of information may I add that indeed Eregion is o'erthrown of late. Early this year came tidings from Ost-In-Edhil of the ouster of the Lord and Lady, and the assumption of power by Celebrimbor and his Guild of Jewel Smiths. I fear the new Lord of Eregion is to be made a puppet of Sauron, who shalt corrupt him by appealing to his aspirations and craft. The Enemy abides there in fair disguise amongst the guildsmen, and revealed not his nature when I met him, but 32 years ago. To my shame I recognized him not at all." She sighed. "I pray thee speak these tidings to thy king, Alagos."

The ships carpenter nodded to her with fearful and uncertain eyes. Rumor of Sauron had been heard and old tales of him told, but never had any that had seen him lived to tell of it. Sauron had seemed unreal, a phantom of evil and a figure out of nightmare, not a being who walked under the sun and shared the world with them. Now he was a real and present threat, an enemy fell who plotted and manipulated, and he moved forward his plot in their time, during their lives. Ice grew in the pit of his stomach and a chill ran up his spine. The horror of the Eldar Days was come upon them indeed and such were to be his tidings to his king. He gulped and wiped the sudden sweat from his palms.

"'Tis for a new mast that we felled yonder tree," he said, waving an arm in the general direction of the fallen pine and changing the topic for his own comfort, "for we lost our mainmast during a storm in the crossing. We had intended to do some stonework at the havens, but now…perhaps instead thy tidings should be carried forth at once. I shalt ask counsel of my captain."

They watched for some moments the crew stripping bark from the tree. It was painful to watch, for both Elves could see that it still lived, though in much anguish. Yet Helluin could understand the need. No such already fallen and dead would they find, for no tree died in its prime, sound and straight, and at a moment's need.

"If thou art bound for Vinyalonde, we would be pleased to accompany thee," Helluin said, "to see the state of the havens and to meet with thy captain."

Alagos nodded, still chilled by the news of Sauron. As for the two Elves, he could hardly stop them from visiting either the havens or his captain even if he wanted to. As it was, he would welcome their company almost as a talisman of protection.

"We shalt leave within the hour," he said with the decisiveness of the Númenóreans and of a Man long accustomed to the demands of life at sea, "for little else can be done ere the mast is roughed out. Once cleaned and cut to length, we shalt float it downstream and fit it to its place in the hull." He stood and beckoned them to follow.

They made their way to the carpenter's mate, a younger man only a couple decades into the learning of his craft. Alagos told him of their change in plans and bid him dress the trunk for transport.

"I shalt return on the morrow, but now I must convey new tidings to the captain," he said. "I shalt take with me our two guests. Be thou ware o'ernight, and make haste with thy task. We may be ordered to sea sooner than planned."

With that he walked to the bank with Helluin and Beinvír at his side. He picked three men to join them along the way and lead them to a longboat with eight oars. It would seat twelve and was one of two there waiting. Along the way, Helluin noted a pile of bows and a stack of arrows, along with many swords. The Númenóreans had not come unarmed. They too were wary of the Enedwaith. Alagos had taken only the minimum number to man the oars, leaving as large a force as possible behind. The three who were to come armed themselves and stepped into the boat. Alagos, Helluin, and Beinvír followed.

"'Tis but two leagues downstream," he explained, "for we went only so far up Gwathir as was necessary to find a new mast. Running downstream we should make good time; indeed we should be there ere nightfall."

The river was wide and moved with a deceptive current, smooth but forceful. This near the coast, Glanduin had become large, though less swift. Even so, rowing upstream would take much effort. No wonder the sailors had come only so far as necessary.

Helluin nodded. She was more concerned for her friend. The Green Elf had become increasingly nervous as their course became clear. 'Twas that she had never in her life set foot in a boat, something they'd talked about one day in the forest when she'd questioned Helluin about Númenor. Now the fear of riding upon the water warred in her heart with the call of the sea and she regarded all with large wide eyes. Helluin also noted the clench of her jaw, her fast, shallow breathing, and the rapidity of her heartbeat. She took her friend's hand and gave it a squeeze while offering a reassuring smile.

At first the green Elf gripped the gunwales with whitened knuckles, but soon she became accustomed to the rocking of the hull and the rush of the water all about. Eventually she was staring at the scenery passing by, searching the distance up and downstream, and trailing her hands in the water over the side. She seemed to relax by the moment and Helluin was relieved to see a grin shaping her lips. Ere they came to the haven, Beinvír was staring hard into the depths, trying to fathom with her sight what lay 'neath the surface.

"I am sure I saw a fish," she stated, "silver-grey and slender, and it passed us with little effort at a great speed."

"Many art the kinds that might be described thus," Alagos said, "and their lives art a great mystery even to those who fish for a living, for of another realm art they, and their home is most foreign. What astonishing wonders must lie 'neath the waves, and yet I should be happier to discover them not. Let the deeps keep their secrets; such is the prayer of all mariners."

A few muttered words of agreement were voiced by the Men as they came alongside a stone retaining wall, and rounding it they came at last to the havens of Vinyalonde, Lond Daer Enedh.

There at berth lay a great ship gently riding the swells, fully 50 fathoms in length, her bow an aggressive upswept curve. Her foremast and mizzen stood stark against the setting sun, 110 and 95 feet tall respectively. Yards, spars, and all her lines were sharp in silhouette, and so too were the furled canvases of her sails. The tiny figures of mariners moved upon the rigging, but of them, no detail could they see. A standard flew at the foremast head, displaying a single rayed star amidst a field of dark blue above a white tree. It shifted proudly in the breeze high above the deck, and yet were it not for the vacant space where the main mast should have stood, it would have flown 20 to 40 feet higher yet. Even as they watched, a figure stood upon the high talan of the foremast, the lookout of the watch, and he sang out, "At the river mouth! Longboat Ho!"

Now the four sailors pulled hard on their oars, and quickly the longboat closed on the ship _Rámaen,_ for her name, Great Wing, was painted in golden Tengwar upon her bow in the High Elven tongue. The sight of her was familiar to Helluin, for she was like unto many of the great ships of Númenor, but for one who had never before seen a seagoing vessel, the impression indelibly inscribed itself upon the pages of memory.

From their first sighting coming 'round into the haven, Beinvír's eyes had been frozen upon the ship of Westernesse, for the impact of its presence was stunning. Never in all her imagination had she though such a thing could exist. In size it dwarfed the vessels of the Sindar that she had seen at a great distance upon the Gulf of Lune. But even more than this, it differed in its lines. For the ships of the Eldar floated upon the water as if at peace, static and tranquil, graceful and light, and they could move forward with the wind's blessing or no. The ship of the Númenóreans seemed to rake forward, as if it were challenging the very seas it sailed upon, its intrepid spirit chaffing for ever greater speeds. It was audacity and enterprise given line and form, courage and curiosity set in timbers and cloth, massive, mighty, and ever so mortal. None would ever mistake the essence of it for the crafting of the Firstborn.

Alongside the hull the longboat tied off to paired lines from the deck, and a rope ladder was lowered o'er the side to them. The carpenter went up first with Helluin and then Beinvír close behind. The three sailors brought up the rear. When all had reached the deck, the First Mate greeted them gravely and heard somewhat of the carpenter's report. During the recitation, he too stared at Helluin as if she were a ghost, then cast his bright eyes on Beinvír. He led them straightaway to a hatch where a ladder led down to the officers' cabins in the stern. There he rapped on a door, and hearing acknowledgment, opened it and announced his guests.

"My Lord Captain, Master Carpenter Alagos hath returned with grave tidings and distinguished guests," he said. "Here art Helluin of the Noldor and Beinvír, Laiquende."

He then bowed and made to leave, but the captain rose and bid him remain and join them at his table where he sat in counsel with the sailing master.

Helluin looked at the man carefully and noted that this captain bore much resemblance to Falmandil, the captain of _Linte Eari_ that had carried her from Númenor 247 years before. Indeed it was uncanny. At the same time, he was looking just as carefully at her.

"Welcome aboard the _Rámaen,_ guildship of his majesty, Tar-Anarion. I am Captain Ciryandur**¹**. May I present Sailing Master Eartírindo**²**. Thou hath met already Master Carpenter Alagos, and also First Mate, Súrendil**³. **I pray thee accept our hospitality."

**¹**(**Ciryandur, _"Ship Master",_****_ cirya_**(ship) +_ **-ndur **_(agent in names, 'expert of'). Quenya) **²**(**Eartírindo, _"Sea Watcher",_ _ear_** (sea) + **_tíre-_** (watch) +_ **-(in)do **_(masc. agent) Quenya)** ³**(**Súrendil, _"Lover of the Hissing Wind", súre_** (hissing wind) +_ **-ndil **_(agent in names, 'lover of'). Quenya)

Ciryandur had remained standing while he spoke his welcome, and now he gestured to the chairs about his table, bidding them be seated. The carpenter and the first mate nodded to their captain and quickly sat, while Helluin and Beinvír took their seats more slowly. The captain poured cups of wine for his guests ere he reseated himself, taking a sip and sighing in appreciation.

"Now fell indeed may thy tidings be, yet a point of curiosity would I satisfy ere I hear them," Ciryandur began, bringing his eyes again to bear on Helluin. "Art thou indeed the same Helluin of whom my Uncle Falmandil spoke, and who sailed with him in days long past? Art thou indeed she who came with tidings and counsel to Númenor in the reign of Tar-Ancalime the queen?"

"I am indeed she, Lord Captain, but to the Eldar, the span that hath passed since I sailed with thine uncle is but a short sojourn of years," Helluin answered. "Thy people too art long lived. Doth Falmandil yet live and sail the Sundering Sea?" _So, 'tis the Wave Lover's nephew who commands this vessel, and so like unto him in face and form is he that at first glance I marked the similarity as uncanny._

At her question, Ciryandur chuckled in spite of himself, the light of fondness kindled in his eyes. A fair memory animated his features and this memory he gladly shared.

"My uncle would sail 'till he passed beyond this life were he not constrained now by our king. Indeed, Tar-Anarion knew of Falmandil's association with thee and in his time of need, appointed my uncle Captain-Admiral of his King's Ships. Under Tar-Ancalime the office went unfilled, and the new king needed one of experience to take the office. Thus my uncle was called, and for the last 95 years he hath discharged that duty, sailing only infrequently from Númenor. He was wroth at first, of course, and hath for some time picked me clean of tales at every landfall, yet he said that once thou spoke to him, saying that in future days some captain should take Anarion upon the sea. Indeed such came to pass. In the last year ere he took the scepter, finally did the Heir take ship, and that was also my first voyage to Lindon, as Third Mate upon _Linte Eari_."

"Then the tale hath come full circle I deem," Helluin said happily, "for at first did I meet Veantur on his way to Lindon in the office of Captain-Admiral to Tar-Elendil, and with the king's house did I share my blood through my daughter, Almarian. Thence down through the years hath that blood passed, through Aldarion and Ancalime, unto Anarion. And now he hath made thy uncle, who was of great help to me, his Captain-Admiral, and he hath brought thee to the sea, even unto Lindon, in thy time."

"'Tis so in truth, but thy circle runs 'round yet again, I wager," Ciryandur said, "for of Tar-Anarion hath come his Heir, Súrion, and of him a daughter, Telperien, and she bears thy likeness again in Númenor. And she is the eldest child of her house and shalt someday sit upon the throne in her turn, for Súrion's elder sisters refused the scepter in the days of Tar-Ancalime. I knew not the queen in her younger days, but 'tis said she walked in thy image; Telperien is young, but 55 years of age, and she certainly favors thee in every aspect of appearance save perhaps that she is not quite so tall."

Helluin sat digesting the reiteration of Alagos' claims of Telperien, while the others turned to the matter of their tidings. Ciryandur asked first for the report of his ship's carpenter, and this was given very nearly word for word as Helluin had related it aforetime. When he was done, the captain asked after any further details.

"To the concise report of thy officer I should add but a few impressions," Helluin said. "The first is that while Sauron shalt most likely succeed in subverting the Noldor of Ost-In-Edhil, they art indeed few and the Noldor elsewhere art aware of the danger.

More worrisome to me is the appeal of Sauron's counsels to the Naugrim of Khazad-dum. They art no less enamoured of craft, and no less greedy of achievement, but unlike the jewel smiths of Eregion, they art many and fell, and their army is vast. Were they to fall under the shadow, then Sauron would command a great force for war. Then too there is his realm of Mordor, and no tidings hath come of it in well 'nigh 250 years. Sauron's army was already great when last I saw it, and in its ranks marched many evil Men and many Yrch." Helluin paused for a moment and then continued having for once a hopeful thought. "'Tis perhaps to Sauron's detriment that he hath Yrch in his service, for never shalt the Naugrim serve a master who is also a master of Yrch. Their hatred comes from the depths of time and goes deep as the roots of their mountain halls. Nay, in the end they shalt not join upon Sauron's part in war, but still they may fall under his shadow."

At this, Ciryandur looked troubled, and he gave thought to his own tidings ere he spoke.

"_Rámaen_ hath come to Lond Daer not from Númenor last, but from Umbar with a short landfall in Belfalas. From Umbar came reports of smoke issuing from Orodruin of late, though we saw naught of it at our landing.

At Edhellond were ships abuilding, and talk was of some there preparing for flight, forsaking the Hither Shores for the West. Some of Lenwe's folk hath made the passage to Tol Eressea at last and so that way is deemed open to them now by the Grace of the Powers. I deem that in days to come, thither shalt many flee as the days darken.

That way may stand open to the Eldar, but not to Men. They shalt be forced to stand, either against Sauron or with him, and I fear that for most, to join the shadow shalt seem prudent when they hath known only darkness aforetime. In such war as is yet to come, thy greatest foes may yet be those of my own kind, corrupted, debased, and fallen into the service of Morgoth's lieutenant, Sauron Gorthaur. How I wish it were not so."

"Yet 'twas so too in the Elder Days, Ciryandur," Helluin said, "and little can be done about the choices made by others save to fight them when no other course will serve. Many shalt fall under Sauron's influence; some of thine no doubt, while many of mine shalt abandon hope and flee. Wherein lies the greater evil?"

For a while they sat in silence. A cabin boy knocked and entered, and he went about the cabin lighting the lamps so that the space took on a warm glow. From the deck above a bell rang and shortly after the captain's steward entered bearing trays and platters for the officer's mess. The captain and the sailing master apologetically removed their charts and logbooks from the table and a white cloth edged in deep blue was lain o'er it by the steward's mate.

"I pray thou shalt enjoy the ship's fare," the captain said as the table was laid.

Helluin and Beinvír hadn't eaten since that morning and both were famished. There was bread, both dark and light, a roasted chicken, a stew of beef, corn sheared from the cob, crisp greens with sliced tomatoes and thin rings of onions, carrots baked together with potatoes, and wild mushrooms sautéed in butter. The six feasted with gusto, washing down their food with a plentiful red wine.

"I had no idea our presence gave cause for such a banquet," Beinvír remarked as she paused between bites. "'Tis all delicious and plentiful as at a king's table. I thank thee."

"Of course we like to do well by our guests," Súrendil told her, "but we hath also reaped well the bounty of this land, and we all dearly love to eat."

"Ship's fare can get sparse when we art long at sea, but in port or at landfall we hunt and gather for our table and to replenish our stores," Ciryandur explained.

"Indeed 'tis so," Helluin agreed lightly, "I recall gnawing old lines, and sailors chewing canvas scraps when food got scarce on long voyages. Now I wonder why Veantur never recorded such details in the scrolls? Pride perhaps?"

Beinvír stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth and looked at Helluin in shock.

"I was thinking more of biscuits and hard tack day in, day out," Ciryandur said with a straight face. "But 'tis true, no clue of such suffering appears in his scrolls."

"Indeed so, for I hath read them myself," Eartírindo said. "I should add though that at times we hath had aught but old shoes boiled long, and of course, sea water aplenty."

The Green Elf was staring at her companions in horror. Their ill turns must have been pathetic. Not on any trip she'd made by land had situations come to such dire straits. Always there was sustenance to be found in the forests or fields if one knew where to look. 'Twas thus even in the depths of winter. She turned from one face to the next, then looked at the platters heaped with food.

"How very sad for thee," she finally said. "The call to sail must be an all consuming desire if thou would willingly chance suffering so. I had no idea."

"Mmm-hmm," Eartírindo agreed sadly while chewing a mouthful of greens.

Beinvír set aside her fork and sat thinking, trying to imagine days at sea with no land in sight and naught to eat but old shoes. It was tremendously upsetting to her to think of her friend or these noble adventurers starving far from home. It wasn't that she was a glutton. It was simply that all her people were so completely adapted to their lands that the idea of starvation was quite foreign. Iluvatar provided for his children and the bounty of the earth was there for those who understood it. She gave Helluin her most pitying look.

Off to her left, Alagos choked and then clamped tightly shut his jaw. A moment later Helluin stifled a sound that might have been a snort and quickly snatched up her wine. Across the table, Eartírindo was suddenly overcome with a fit of coughing and he hid his face behind his napkin. Súrendil clamped his hand over his mouth and squeezed shut his eyes. His shoulders were shaking.

Beinvír's horror was renewed, for her first thought was that they had all been poisoned by the strange foods of Enedwaith and would be lucky not to die. Her eyes grew wider and wider. 'Twas was only moments later that Ciryandur's composure failed. He broke down in gales of laughter, finally resorting to dabbing his eyes with his napkin. As Beinvír watched him her own eyes narrowed as she deduced the cause of his mirth. Her ire fell most squarely on Helluin, whose expression was painfully torn between apology and laughter.

"Why, I am quite astonished at thy conduct, Helluin. Wherefore come'th such a prank from one so dour and pessimistic? Is the misleading of the ignorant worthy of such efforts? Indeed thou hast come to share the spirit of thy enemy in the hoodwinking of the unsuspecting o'er shared spirits." She glared at Helluin, who was hard pressed to stifle her mirth while trying to appear contrite.

"Be not wroth with me forever, my friend," Helluin said at last when she had mastered herself, "upon the sea none go hungry more than those upon the land, for there art always fish to be had. 'Twas but a folly, an inspiration of the moment, and wholly out of character, I assure thee."

Beinvír scrutinized her friend closely, as if divining her veracity.

"I hath heard," Ciryandur said innocently, "that in days long past thou adulterated the king's wine with vinegar whilst drinking late into the night after the _Eruhantalë_."

(**Eruhantalë, **Númenórean thanksgiving, a prayer offered to Eru for his bounty by the king, spoken upon the summit of the Meneltarma at autumn's end. UT, AdotIoN, pg. 166.)

At this revelation, Beinvír regarded Helluin with shock and Helluin blushed scarlet in chagrin. She and Tar-Elendil had enjoyed a relationship enriched by much mutual pranking and from which each had suffered their share of embarrassing moments. She had not thought such tales were common knowledge. Someone must have let slip some observations on their behavior, though in truth, most such jests had occurred when both had imbibed significantly. _'Twas probably Almarian gossiping with her handmaids,_ Helluin thought.

"Then thou hast no doubt heard also that thy king compelled the royal laundress to apply liberal starches to my shifts, rendering them not unlike rawhide," Helluin revealed. "Indeed I was yet more astonished that one of such nobility could find time to coax hence from their holes so many mice with which to fill my boots."

"Indeed so?" Súrendil asked, dumbfounded. "Tar-Elendil?"

624 years after his death, the fourth king was regarded as a legend and accorded even greater reverence than in his lifetime. The effect grew more pronounced the further back in history one went. The thought of Elros' grandson stuffing rodents into the boots of his Captain-Admiral's wife was truly shocking. Where his captain had heard of Helluin's pranks was a mystery. Ciryandur cackled.

"Tar-Elendil was a man, noble and wise, a worthy scion of great fathers," Helluin said, "and like them, also a man of quick humor and playful nature, who balanced severity with mirth. 'Tis only when that balance fails that the mind becomes unstable to the suffering of all, for mean spiritedness or vacuity results." She thought of Tar-Ancalime who probably hadn't laughed honestly in all her life. "I recall an incident of Tuor, when the refugees of Gondolin had yet to issue from Idril's tunnel and the way was not decided. He stood uncertain and absently remarked, _'Well, we certainly can't go north'_, for that way led hence but to Angband. A Man of lesser character would in that place despair or choose in haste. Humor was his succor in that dark time, and though few laughed aloud, still his comment lightened hearts and gave a pause in which to consider more deeply all available counsels. Humor is a refuge for hope and an exercise for the wits. I deem it a fair enterprise if it harm none, for like dignity, it hath its place."

About the table all were amazed. On some level they had perceived this wisdom, and yet to hear examples from the lives of their revered predecessors was enlightening. In times of horror and peace alike, Men of heroic stature had engaged in humor for their hearts' sake. And whether contrived or unintended it had served to balance the gravity of their times. It was…instructional.

"Indeed now I understand more clearly thy mirth at the wolf and the hunter," Beinvír said, "and even somewhat thy utterances when thou give thy pessimism voice. 'Tis but thy brand of humor, stunted and depressing as it is."

Helluin reacted to her friend's words in surprise, then attempted to amend her opinion.

"Doth thou truly find me so melancholic? I had not thought myself overly maudlin save in times of reflection on sad events…I am less outwardly joyous and lighthearted than some perhaps, but still…. What?"

Beinvír had begun her giggling at Helluin's defense and the jest in the Green Elf's words had been clearly perceived by the others, who now joined her in chuckling at the Noldo. Realizing what had passed, Helluin shook her head but couldn't keep from grinning. Even her own dignity had its place. She gave her friend a wink and was greeted with a smile. The meal concluded with a dessert, some type of jellied fruit sweetened with honey and very enjoyable.

In the end, 'twas decided that once repaired, _Rámaen_ would make her course back to Númenor as planned. While grave, the tidings would not gain from any haste they could make. The mast would require two days fitting and rigging, and nothing could be done to hasten that. The captain offered to convey the Elves to the mouth of the Angren ere he sailed west for Númenor, saving them the walk back through the forest of the Enedwaith and leaving them closer to the Southern Pass. Such a hop down the coast would also allow him time to be acquainted with the new mast. This being decided, the Men went to their rest and the Elves to climb the rigging to the lookout's talan for a view of the stars.

From that height the view was impressive, not only of the unobstructed sky, but also of the forest and the river. At 100 feet they had a horizon of well 'nigh thirteen miles, and with the acuity of sight given to the Firstborn, they could easily see the camp of the sailors two leagues northeast where the new mast had been felled. The trunk had been dressed and moved parallel to the bank, and the Men rested behind it near their remaining longboat. The mariners had encircled the site with a ring of watch fires, and guards armed with bows surveyed the dark woods. Other kept their eyes on the water. Obviously they had no doubts of the hostility of the Enedwaith and they were taking no chances.

The next day the carpenter's crew floated the new mast to the ship, and laboring through the afternoon and night, they raised it and set it in its place amidships. With the second dawn, riggers commanded by the boatswain were busy raising the yards and spars and securing the rigging of tarred lines. The sail cloth went aloft while the painters feverishly colored the woodwork in white and blue. At dusk a proud seaman made his way aloft, bearing the banner from the foremast to the main and setting it in its high place 140 feet above the deck. Ere the second nightfall, the ship stood ready to weigh anchor and sail with the morrow's ebb tide. Late the following afternoon, a longboat came over the side and Helluin and Beinvír were ferried to shore.

To Be Continued


	21. In An Age Before Chapter 21

**In An Age Before – Part 21**

_Short update this time folks, with some speculative additions to the scant canon regarding the Drúedain provided by JRRT in UT, Pt. 4, Ch. I, TD, pgs. 377-388._

**Chapter Eighteen**

_**Drúwaith Iaur - The Second Age of the Sun**_

'Twas 25 Gwirith, (April 25th), being the fourth day walking after leaving the _Rámaen_, and Helluin and Beinvír had come to the fork where the Rivers Angren and Adorn converged. This was close to 100 miles east, or upstream, from Sîr Angren's mouth, at least as near as Helluin could reckon, for the way had followed the curves of the banks. The land thereabouts was rolling and sheathed in grasses, shrubs, and isolated pockets of trees. To the north, across Angren, lay the southern fastness of the forest of Enedwaith, while to the south marched the foothills of the westernmost arm of the Ered Nimrais, the White Mountains. Helluin noted that the Adorn flowed swiftly, and though now far from where it came down out of the highlands, its waters were still chill. 'Twas too wide and swift to ford where it met Angren, and being on its southern bank meant their only choice was to travel upstream to find some point of crossing, then eventually make their way north to rejoin the Angren. Helluin had never been here before and she knew of no bridge or ford. They would simply have to keep their eyes open and trust to luck.

Another factor of which she had no firsthand knowledge was the area's inhabitants. A few rumors told of a kindred of Men called Drúedain who made their homes in this land. They were said to be odd, ancient, sundered in speech from other Men, and no friends of the Enedwaith. Helluin thought that natural enough. She couldn't imagine any being fast in friendship with the Enedwaith of the forests or their fisher folk cousins along the coast. Beyond the scant rumors was only the fact that none with whom she had ever spoken had met any of that kindred, nor were they even certain that such indeed existed. Still, the land they traveled was called _Drúwaith Iaur_, the Old Land of the Drú. Unfortunately Drú was an unfamiliar word from no tongue Helluin spoke. And so, being naturally inclined to suspicion, Helluin went forward warily and Beinvír as well.

Three more days passed, but the Elves had found not a ford or a crossing, and they continued up the Adorn into a country grown watchful. 'Twas quiet all about, as if some doom hung o'erhead, yet the land lay fair all 'round and no threat could either discern. The river ran clear and fast beside them, but no boat plied its waters. The mountains waited, looming up silent and ever closer ahead. Few birds did they spy, and these flitted quickly from copse to thicket, uttering no calls or songs. Neither did they see domestic herds or abundance of game, nor any homesteads or smoke from a fire. And never did they see any evidence of habitation. Helluin reckoned they had traversed half the distance up the Adorn to the mountains.

That night, Helluin and Beinvír sat together with their backs against a great rock outcropped from a hillside. A meager fire, burning low in a small trench at their feet, provided heat but showed forth little light, a precaution of hunters and scouts.

"Thou know'th that our passage hath been marked these last days," Beinvír said, her voice coming softly at Helluin's elbow in the dark.

"I hath presumed so, but no sign of the watchers hath I seen, yet like thee I hath felt eyes upon me, silent and watchful as a ghost." Her eyes never stopped roving through the darkness beyond their camp, ever searching for a telltale movement of a shadow or the soft report of a footstep. 'Twas futile, she had learned, from the past nights' vigils. She found it deeply irritating. "I hath half a mind to fire this whole country just to flush them out and satisfy my curiosity at the least," she muttered to herself.

Beinvír, who had become accustomed to Helluin's moods, grinned in the dark. A part of her could imagine Helluin doing just so, then waiting amidst the flames merely to catch a glimpse of their phantom companions ere she herself burned.

"Were they Galadrim I should know it," Beinvír said, "and they knowing us would present themselves long ere this. No others I hath met match us in stealth or woodscraft. Yet if there be in fact eyes upon us as it feels, then they art crafty beyond the measure of my people." There had been no sounds, no motions at the corner of her vision, no tracks.

That statement was very unsettling. Helluin's experience of the Laiquendi had given her an appreciation of their skills. From the first time Dálindir had risen from nothing but a pile of leaves in Ossiriand, she had been more than impressed with their stealth. The thought of others yet again more skilled was threatening indeed. She was quite ready to believe well 'nigh any rumors of the Drúedain, save that there was almost nothing to be believed. There were no stories about them, no claims, no…knowledge.

"Rest, my friend," Helluin said, "I shalt watch again."

They had allowed the fire to burn low, and Beinvír leaned into Helluin's side for warmth and let her mind wander wide upon the roads of thought. Helluin draped a cloak about them and sat still, staring through narrowed lids to hide the whites of her eyes as they slowly rove across the landscape. To any watchers they had become indistinguishable from the great boulder at their backs.

Overhead Ithil made his way across the heavens; still Helluin didn't move. Another night passed away into memory and finally Vingilot arose heralding the coming dawn. Dew formed. Stillness descended as the world awaited the new day's opening hour. In the east the sky lightened, dimming Varda's stars. And a half-mile off to the west, Helluin finally caught the heartbeat brief sheen of a reflection, as of Vasa's first ray glinting on a watching eye. In an instant it was gone.

She sat and examined the memory, as it were a painting etched indelibly on the canvas of her mind's recall. Into that image she let herself fall, as one watching the approaching water's surface as they plunged down in a dive from a great height. Closer and closer she came. There! 'Twas beside a tree's dark trunk, one reflection only and for but a moment, but it had been there! Helluin willed the image to brighten, casting the Light of her fëa onto the painting she saw, illuminating details her mind had stored that her waking eye in that moment had not perceived. Dim silhouette against the star-speckled sky; half a figure stood revealed beyond the trunk's profile, squat, thick, and still. There dark against dark ere it blended smoothly back into the blackness of the bole. Without thought a grin shaped her lips. She withdrew from the memory. This she would share with her friend!

Helluin pursed her lips and blew forth a stream of air from the side of her mouth to fluff the top of Beinvír's hair. The Green Elf moved only her eyes, raising and focusing them on Helluin's. She quirked a brow in question. Gazing eye to eye, they spoke in silent communication, and Helluin showed her friend what she had discovered. Beinvír's eyes widened in surprised acknowledgment and at the recall of an old memory. Now she had a story to tell and she raised her head from Helluin's shoulder and spoke in a whisper.

"Dálindir told once to me a tale of old Beleriand; of the Edain of Haleth, the Haladin, who came over Ered Lindon and at first dwelt in Thargelion beyond Ascar. They made there many homesteads and small settlements, and those most southern were 'nigh the northern border of Ossiriand. Some few of these became known to Dálindir, for he at times met with Caranthir in his realm to the north.

Now 'twas told that amongst the Haladin there dwelt in small numbers, a people who had been long associated with that host; people who in their own tongue were called the Drúg. In looks they were short and thick, indeed shorter and thicker even than Dwarves, but 'twas their faces that most set them apart. Flat they were and wide, with a heavy ridge above the eyes, and those set deeply beneath, almost black, piercing and steady, and they looked long and far and with great acuity. They were flat also of nose, broad of cheek and chin, and their teeth were large in their wide mouths. Indeed Dálindir said they appeared as the work of someone of little craft carving a figure but poorly and for the first time. His thought was that they were perhaps made by the Dwarves of Nogrod and brought to life through some incantation of Aule, but the Haladin said 'twas not so. They had shared the road with the Drúg since meeting them 'nigh Hithaeglir many generations before.

'Whyfore dost thou share thy dwellings?' Dálindir had asked, and the Haladin replied that, 'They art steadfast and true. No better trackers or watchmen hath we met in all of Middle Earth, and in battle they art deadly with poisoned dart and bare hands'. Now from thy description I should say the Drúedain and the Drúg art one and the same, and that we hath indeed come to that country in which long ago the Haladin first met them."

"'Tis strange that I hath heard no tales of them," Helluin said, for she had lived those years in Beleriand, while Beinvír had been born only later in Eriador.

"Indeed only that single tale did Dálindir ever tell of them," Beinvír replied. "Yet it seems to me that later, the Haladin marched west, first to Estolad, and thence to Brethil."

Helluin thought back to the First Age of the Sun. From Vinyamar she had followed Turgon son of Fingolfin into the isolation of Gondolin in F.A. 116. Only by tidings of the Eagles had word come of the appearance of the three houses of the Elf-friends, and that had begun well 'nigh 200 years later. Indeed the first time she had seen any of the Edain was when Hurin and Huor had been conveyed to the Hidden City by two of Thorondor's vassals. That had been just ere F.A. 460. If the Drúg had been few and living in the Forest of Brethil, than 'twas little wonder she had never known of it. She nodded her head a fraction of an inch in understanding. The Gondolindrim had no stories of the Drúg, and if any had been known in Doriath, they had come not down Sirion to Avernien with Elwing's people so far as she had heard.

"So now perhaps we shalt meet the fourth house of the Atani," she whispered, "and if they shoot us not with their darts, I shalt do them honor, these old enemies of Morgoth."

In the opening hour after dawn they removed from their camp and continued their way upriver. Many more miles did they cover ere the sun approached the zenith. As noon drew 'nigh, Helluin and Beinvír found a place where the southern bank rose steeply up, and soon they were looking down at the watercourse and thence across it to the opposite bank to the north.

As they'd come upstream the river had narrowed by degrees, until now it ran but four fathoms in breadth, yet it flowed fast and deep. At a bend it undercut the southern bank by a fathom so that the far shore lay but three fathoms distant and ten feet lower. Helluin stopped and regarded the river both upstream and down. She nodded her head; 'twas the best possibility she had yet seen.

"Here we might chance a crossing," she told Beinvír, "and no more favorable place hath I seen, nor I think, is any better to be found upstream so far as I can see. Woulds't thou join me in a leap to the far shore?"

Beinvír scrutinized the gap, its breadth and height, then looked down into the fast flowing waters below. She gulped. Then she looked upstream, shading her eyes with a slender hand before she turned back to Helluin.

"T'would not be my first choice, but it doth appear our only choice," she said.

Helluin nodded in agreement. It wouldn't be her first choice either.

About them the land was sheathed in coarse grasses, while the few shrubs formed clumps several fathoms back form the bank, but the brink was of hard bare rock and seemed sturdy. A few boulders sat here and there amidst the grasses, but there was space for a good running start ere they leapt. No deer could ask for more. Helluin shed her travel gear and stepped to the edge of the bank, then she began pacing back from it, counting her strides. Beinvír watched her apprehensively.

Helluin had backed away a dozen paces, enough to reach her full stride ere she leapt, and she found herself standing amidst waist high grass with a boulder close by on her right atop a larger outcropping. She dismissed it at first glance, but a moment later whirled back around, drawing her sword by reflex and standing facing the rocks in a defensive crouch. The rock didn't move, but continued to watch her impassively.

Indeed as she looked more closely, Helluin discerned that 'twas a figure seated beside a rock, not merely a rock, and cleaving to it so that its profile was obscured. With a gulp, she sheathed her sword and approached. Behind her, Beinvír lowered her bow and slacked the tension on the arrow she had knocked when Helluin drew her sword. She watched as her friend walked toward what could only be a Drúg.

When she stood but an arm's length away, the Drúg released his grasp on the boulder and sat straight, crossing his legs and laying his palms flat upon his thighs. He looked up, meeting her eyes without fear or guile. It was as direct and unguarded a glance as she could remember, but at the same time it was piercing, as if seeing clearly into her heart. If his physical appearance was startling and unfamiliar, she found her reaction submersed 'neath her wonder at his eyes. None of the Atani, not even the Kings of Númenor, had ever looked at her with a perceptiveness that rivaled the Amanyar. Thus she tried to _speak_ to him in silence as she did with Beinvír or others of the Eldar to whom she was close.

_Greetings thou, O Watcher still and crafty. I hath felt thy eyes but seen naught of thy self save now, and thence by chance only. Art thou of the kindred of the_ _Drúg?_

He furrowed his brow slightly and looked at her more closely, cocking his head a degree as if harkening to a voice.

"Strange. Speak words you, not of mouth," he said in the Common Speech. His voice was low and rough and his expression didn't change.

Since Helluin didn't care for the Common Speech she continued speaking in silence.

_I am Helluin, Eglan_**¹**_; with me is Beinvír, Elleth_**²**

**¹ ²**(**Eglan**, Exiled Elf, and **Elleth**, Female Elf, both are generic terms. Sindarin)

"Glûn, _Drúghu_**¹**," he said, thumping his barrel chest once. "Deer leap, you go."

**¹**(**Drúghu, **their own name for themselves. Drúedain and the earlier Drúath are Sindarin. UT, Pt. Four, Ch. I, The Drúedain, Note 6, pg. 385)

_Yes. We need to cross the river. We hath far to travel._ Helluin pointed to the dim specter of the Misty Mountains, just barely visible far to the north. Glûn snorted.

"You go. Drúghu stay. Good walking, you."

Helluin wanted to say more. She had many questions, but the Common Speech was barely more than a minimal carrier of ideas and it obviously wasn't Glûn's native tongue. But more than that, the Drúghu had already stared past her into the distance. He hadn't moved an inch, but 'twas as if he had dismissed her from his world and the two Elves no longer existed for him. Somehow she had expected more from this meeting, had been anticipating learning new things or hearing strange stories. It had been a long time since she had met a wholly unknown kind of intelligent being, and now she felt disappointed and irritable. She shrugged and turned back to Beinvír.

"Toss our things over to me after I get across," she said. At her words, Glûn lifted his head and blinked, but Helluin was already facing away and saw it not.

When the Green Elf nodded, Helluin immediately sprinted forward. She crossed the dozen paces and then leapt straight out into the air. Ere she'd crossed half the distance she knew she'd make it easily, indeed with room to spare.

Helluin's leap had taken her a good two paces past the far bank. She landed softly, cushioning her touchdown by bending her legs to absorb the impact. When she turned back she saw Beinvír looking relieved, standing on the higher bank with their travel bags in her hands. She tossed the first and Helluin caught it and set it down. She tossed the second and that too Helluin snagged in flight and set at her feet. Now Helluin moved forward to the edge of the bank to lend her friend a hand should her jump carry her short. Beinvír nodded to her and then disappeared as she backed out of sight.

Some time passed, and Helluin became worried ere she heard at last a rushing of feet. Beinvír appeared at the edge and took flight in a mighty leap that carried her up as well as out from the far bank. As Helluin watched, Beinvír flew over the water in a smooth arc, her legs still churning as if she were running through the air. She landed in mid-stride and continued on for several paces as she bled off her speed. Her jump had outdistanced Helluin's by a good fathom. After retrieving their bags, they continued on their way.

"Well, the Drúg 'twas a great disappointment," Helluin complained somewhat later as they walked north from the Adorn. "He may as well hath been a rock."

"Helluin, he understood thy speech mind to mind," Beinvír said, "who amongst Men hath thou spoken to thus in the past?"

Helluin thought back. In truth she had never tried speaking in that way with mortals.

"With Men I converse in Adûnaic or Sindarin, or more rarely in Quenya, and at whiles in the Common Speech when naught else will serve."

"Whyfore then did thou speak thus to Glûn?" Beinvír asked.

"'Twas the way he looked at me," Helluin answered, "as one blessed with the deep sight. I thought it wise, knowing not what speech he had, to converse thus, directly mind to mind. I shouldn't hath tried it with one who first hailed me aloud. He only sat staring at me, much as a speechless beast or one dumb of tongue."

"Yet thou persisted thus after he spoke."

"'Twas because I detest the Common Speech. It expresses so little, and he understood me. 'Twas…interesting."

"I suspect at first he deemed us spirits and not of this world," Beinvír said, "speaking thus without words. Perhaps therefore he thought us of no consequence, or even a danger, and returned his attention thence to this world ere he be drawn into some other."

Helluin groaned. Such thinking she could understand, primitive and superstitious as it was.

"Ere I made my jump, he spoke again," Beinvír said after a while, "warning of the _gôrgbu_**¹** that clove to me. He did thus, I deem, for thou spoke aloud to me ere thy leap, and yet not so to him, and unlike him, I answered thee not with words; therefore perhaps he deemed me living and thou not."

**¹**(**gôrgbu**, **_ghost_**. Hypothetical Drúghu word)

Helluin stared at her, for the moment speechless. Beinvír giggled.

"What, pray tell, is a gôrgbu?" Helluin asked.

"'Tis what his people call the spirit of one struck dead that lingers yet in the world. They oft speak in strange tongues, and art given to mischief and to causing confusion amongst the living for a time ere they fade away at last into their proper realm to the north**¹**. I tried to reassure him of thy living. He would have none of it."

**¹**(This belief of the Drúg is not canon.)

"But surely when he saw and heard me speak to thee…?" Helluin began to protest in frustration.

"He saw me see thou as he himself saw thee," Beinvír said, "and thy spoken words made to him no sense at all, for his people understand not the Sindarin tongue. 'Twas all the proof he needed. Naught that I could say dissuaded him ere I had to leave. It matters not, though I wonder if thou can see some humor in it?"

"I cannot," Helluin said and turned to stomp off in the direction of the distant Hithaeglir.

When Beinvír caught up to her, she was still muttering, "…thinks me a ghost he does, he of apish face and cattle's eye. Would that I had pricked him ere I sheathed my sword. Then would he believe indeed that I still walk this earth. Hmmm, back thither I should go and gouge him once; therein I should find some humor indeed. Gôrgbu, ha!"

She continued fuming thus for several miles, inveighing without pause, all the while Beinvír finding the stifling of her laughter increasingly difficult.

"'Tis but thy expectations going unmet that disappoint thee," she said, but Helluin harkened not to her words. She followed a while longer in silence but spoke again at last.

"Helluin, peace. Thou hath already confused him. Returning thus to poke at him with thy sword would only serve to prove the part about making mischief. T'would leave him wholly persuaded of thy gôrgbu-ness."

At this comment, Helluin growled. Beinvír at last failed of her comportment and collapsed on the ground in hysterics. After a while, Helluin sat on the ground at her side.

"I suppose now to my titles I shalt add, 'Gôrgbu of Drúwaith Iaur'. Impressive indeed, as none shalt know what honor it signifies." And at last she managed a chuckle.

In the following week the two friends passed between Hithaeglir and the Ered Nimrais by tracking the course of the Angren. Soon it turned due north and they continued east. On 6 Lothron, (May 6th), S.A. 1375 they passed the easternmost outlier of the southernmost vale of the Hithaeglir and turned their steps towards a great and deep forest neither had entered aforetime. Twice now, Helluin had passed this wood as she made her way south down Anduin, but she had not tarried there either in 523 or 1125. And yet she had always regarded the sight of it with curiosity. Surely at one time it had been connected to Greenwood and perhaps to the original forests of Eriador as well.

"I hath been 'nigh this wood twice aforetime, yet did not enter," Helluin told Beinvír as they drew closer, "but it seems I shalt explore there at last, if only as we pass through."

"'Tis a great old wood surely, and no doubt filled with its own life and secrets. What, perchance doth thou think to find there?"

"I know not, save that I shalt be accepted amongst the living, but were I to name some of what we may find thither, than I should say Onodrim, and perhaps their mates. There may also be Huorns," she said uncomfortably, "and perhaps trees with whom we shalt speak. I hope to find no Yrch, being 'nigh Hithaeglir but further south than they art wont to go. I suppose we shalt see what we shalt see."

To Be Continued

8


	22. In An Age Before Chapter 22

**In An Age Before – Part 22

* * *

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**Chapter Nineteen**

_**Fangorn Forest - The Second Age of the Sun**_

In the afternoon two days later, Helluin and Beinvír stepped from the grasslands and into the forest as if in taking that single stride they went from day to night. Within, the air was still and the canopy obscured the bright light of the sun. Little grew on the forest floor; indeed between the roots and boles of the trees there lay mostly mosses, humus, and rocks laid bare as the soil was consumed over the countless years. Because of this, few animals dwelt there for lack of low growing and tender shoots. Squirrels and their relatives there were, and some kinds of birds too that favored the nuts and berries of trees. Of larger animals, naught but the few foxes and cats that preyed on the squirrels had made Fangorn home. Helluin and Beinvír also sensed a watchfulness and curiosity about them, as it were a vapor suffusing the air, but no voices did they hear. Naught but the sounds of breeze amongst the leaves far overhead and the creaking of branches gave voice to the woods.

(**Note:** In the early Second Age, the borders of Fangorn Forest lay south to the eastern margin of Nan Curunír, east to the Wold and the banks of Anduin further north, and north to within 8 leagues of southern Lindórinand, with which it had once been contiguous. The forest had been contracting since the Elder Days, and continued to do so into the Third Age, ever diminishing from a primeval forest that had once extended into Eriador as far as the Ered Luin.)

"'Tis like standing in a crowd where all hold their breath and await some doom," Beinvír observed in a hushed voice. "I feel too as much watched as I am watching and by more eyes, yet 'tis a different feel than in Drúwaith Iaur."

"I hath felt such a mood aforetime, but only in the depths of Greenwood, and only then at times ere trouble brewed," Helluin said. "I am sure there art Huorns here, and with them no doubt, the Onodrim."

Beinvír nodded. In the forests of her home there were no such creatures, nor was it so…treeish. "The forest of Eriador is perhaps of similar age, but not so vast or so dense. Here 'tis truly a realm of trees, and here I feel out of place as I do not in Eriador."

"This forest is indeed of similar age and vast, yet not a fraction so vast as Greenwood, and yet I mark thy words," Helluin said. "Here all feels as it were compressed in spirit, a world reserved for trees and their kin, where all others art indeed out of place. 'Tis a world on its own, for it lives on the timespan of trees, not on that of Elves or Men."

They continued north, so near as they could tell the direction, sighting on some trunk straight ahead in line with ones closer and further, and keeping to that line. Every so often one or the other would climb up to assure themselves that indeed the Hithaeglir still marched on their left to the west. 'Twas a while ere either noted what they hadn't heard.

"No sound of running water do I hear," Beinvír said softly, "no stream or creek, or river's whispered flow amidst this forest."

"There art rivers to the north, or at least I hath seen two passing from the forest and down eventually to Anduin," Helluin said, "yet the closer of them lies well 'nigh 100 miles north, though of its path within the forest I know naught."

Shortly later they heard from a great distance booming calls that echoed amidst the trees and seemed to rebound back from the very walls of the Hithaeglir to the west. From what bird or beast they came neither Elf could guess. Only could they tell that call was answered by call for several directions and distances. This recital continued apace ere it ceased, leaving the ensuing silence yet the more profound as evening fell.

That night when it became too dark to reliably find their way, Helluin and Beinvír stopped and made themselves uncomfortable amidst a group of rocks. This had been Helluin's precaution, to avoid being crushed if some of the surrounding trees decided to wander during the night. At this explanation, Beinvír looked askance at her friend but accepted her advice. She had spent most of her life in a forest and the trees there didn't wander. Her own first impulse would have been to seek a night's shelter off the ground amid the branches.

"Were I elsewhere I would agree with thee," Helluin said, "but until I discover more of this forest's mood, I shalt err on the side of prudence and rest amongst the rocks."

Some hours later, the creaking and grumbling they had heard all day picked up apace, as did the sound of wind in the branches. Ere morning, the forest settled down much as it had been the day before, yet when they set off walking, Helluin pointed out that in some places roots had shifted in the soil, or the ground had a look as of something dragged across it. At last she came to a spot much like any other and stopped.

"And what strikes thee as odd about this?" She asked Beinvír, nodding ahead.

Beinvír looked carefully. As before, the ground showed signs of disturbance. Directly ahead stood a stout old evergreen of undeterminable species. It was not so like unto any she knew that she could name it beyond doubt. Aside from this, its crown was quite a bit shorter than the canopy. It rose from twinned trunks to a single bole, and then carried two primary branches dangling at equal height on opposite sides. A few smaller branches made up its crown, while a long fringe of epiphytic moss hung in a mass of tangles below them. It gave an unsettling impression, having a strangeness she couldn't place or identify. She looked back at Helluin with questioning eyes.

"It should not be here," Helluin said, "or leastwise, it wouldn't grow here of its own choice. T'would starve for light 'neath the taller trees of the canopy if aught else. I am sure it must come from the mountain slopes far to the west, and so it isn't truly a tree."

She led Beinvír forward until they were standing two fathoms in front of it. At that point she began speaking in a tongue the Green Elf had never before heard, a slow, soft, speech she could only describe as "rustling". Helluin continued on through the next hour while Beinvír watched, trying to restrain herself from mockery. Interesting as it had been at first, she found her friend's monologue was rapidly putting her to sleep. Finally she could stand it no longer and she interrupted Helluin.

"Pray tell, what lullaby art thou presenting to yonder tree? Surely 'tis as deeply asleep as ever it shalt be? I pray thee cease ere I join it."

"Patience, my friend, I hath nearly completed our introduction."

"Our introduction to what? Dost thou now believe thyself in the company of some gôrgbu perhaps? I hath harkened on quiet nights to thy tales of conversations with the trees of Greenwood. Even thou admit that oft as not they dozed off mid-sentence. Here now thou art conversing with one that doth remain asleep. Helluin, sometimes a tree is simply a tree."

"'Tis not simply a tree," Helluin protested.

Her words were drowned out by a great creaking and shifting. Beinvír's eyes went round and wide as the "tree" turned around to face them and blinked, then leaned forward to gaze more closely at them. It had large dark eyes, ancient and sad, and they regarded her dolefully ere it straightened and spoke.

"Hoooo-hummmm, the Hasty Elf and the Hastier Elf," it said in Silvan, "both new to Fangorn for I know thee not, and I should know thee I suppose, if thou had been here before. Indeed if thou had been here aforetime I would know thee."

"As I was saying," Helluin began in Silvan, ere she resumed in Entish. The Onod quickly cut her off, much to her chagrin.

"Thy accent is abominable, Hasty Elf. Wherever did thou learn thy _Lamb Enyd_**¹**, hmmmmm?"

**¹**(**Lamb Enyd, _Tongue of the Ents, lamb_**(tongue) + **_enyd_**(Ents, pl) Sindarin)

Helluin sighed and answered in Silvan.

"At first from a company of Entwives in West Beleriand long ago, and thence more recently from Oldbark in Greenwood. Thou say I hath an accent?"

The Onod seemed to study Helluin again, taking his time and perusing her thoroughly.

"Oldbark hath an affectation of speech much like what thou would call a lisp. Oldbark, Leaflock, Firpate, Larchtongue, Mapletwig, and all the rest over there in Greenwood sound 'that way'," he reported with certainty. "Now, of the Entwives, say thou hast truly seen them? How long ago? Where? And when, most recently?"

Helluin sighed. This Onod was more hasty than any she could imagine. He hadn't even introduced himself! And yet he was hurriedly pressing her for tidings of the Entwives. At her first meeting with Oldbark, it had been days ere they'd broached the topic. She shook her head.

"First, I would know thy name, or at least such of it as thou would hear me call thee by," Helluin said. "Thence to the Entwives; I hath seen them but once. 'Twas 1,376 years ago that I met a wandering company upon the slopes of the Ered Wethrin in the Woods of Nuath, in the west of Beleriand that now lies 'neath the sea. There I taught songs of Valinor to them and they taught their language to me. And they told of how they wandered long and far out of their lands beyond the Ered Lindon, seeking after new gardens and ever west, and in doing thus had lost their way and lost their mates. Shortly thereafter I was commanded by Ulmo to Avernien and saw them never again. I know not whether they came hence from Beleriand or were whelmed in its drowning, or were lost in the War of Wrath, for indeed much fire burned and many chasms opened in that time."

"And thou hath seen them not in Eriador, nor in any field or garden in thy travels?"

"Nay, I hath seen naught of them since. Only south of Greenwood, ere the minions of Sauron the Accursed ravished that land, hath I seen fields and orchards they might hath found fair, yet those lands were then made barren and none dwelt there."

The Onod seemed to bristle at her words, looming up and clenching his great hands.

"I hath lived all my life in Eriador, and in those woods I hath seen naught of them either," Beinvír added in a placating tone.

"Then they were betrayed by the Valar to wander west to naught but their doom," he said, but with sarcasm rather than sadness.

Helluin found this statement made her vastly uncomfortable while Beinvír's eyes widened in shock. 'Twas very nearly blasphemy! Unconsciously she and Beinvír backed up several paces.

"Say rather that they were drawn toward the Light of Aman and I should agree, but perhaps they found their doom with the times. 'Tis in the hearts of all noble beings to make their way into the West. 'Twas want of the blessing of the Undying Lands that compelled them thither," Helluin said.

"Nay, they were indeed betrayed as art all who were led astray and went thither to heartbreak and thralldom. Only those of weak mind, standing bedazzled by the Light, found their happiness in that realm. Did thou thyself not choose to leave, Golodh?" He asked with condescension. "Did not the treasures wrought in imitation of that realm lead all thy people to heartbreak and death? Thou know of what I speak. Whither now art the great lords and fathers of thy people? In the Halls of the Dead; there only is thy reward. Such is the gift of Manwë to the Children of Iluvatar, for in seeking dominion in Ea he can bestow no boon save death." The Onod regarded her smugly as Helluin ground her teeth.

"I hath stood 'neath the Two Trees and I hath lived in Aman," Helluin spat, "while thou hath lingered in thy forest. I know the Blessed Realm while thou know'th it not. Save thy ill-spirited words! They hath no wisdom and they hath no persuasiveness. Indeed thou speak with the viper's tongue of Morgoth, may he be a thousand times damned!"

Unconsciously she had taken the Sarchram into her hand, while on the Onod's face an expression of rage grew to twist his features. All 'round them a great rustling arose, as of a multitude of branches stirred by a sudden wind. The earth 'neath their feet shook as with the beat of many great drums.

"Take not in vain the name of the true Lord of the Arda, or swiftly shalt thy doom come upon thee!" The Onod threatened. A ghostly pale light glowed in his eyes.

He made to advance; Helluin raised the Grave Wing, her eyes crackling with blue fire.

"What is thy name?" She demanded, cocking back her arm.

"Thou knows my name," he gloated, "and in thy time thou shalt worship me."

"He is no Onod!" A deep voice boomed from the shadowed forest. "Out! Out fell spirit! You have no place here! This is my realm and I shall strip thee of thy skin!"

Even as the Onod took his first step toward the Elves there was movement, surprisingly swift, from all around. A circle of mighty figures broke from the forest and converged on them. In form each was different from the others, yet all were recognizably of one kindred. The nameless one froze and watched them warily as they formed a standing ring of trunks that swayed inward and outward together as if blown to and fro by a fierce storm wind.

To Helluin and Beinvír it seemed a violent and primitive dance, and the figures raised their booming voices in a chant, slow and deep, but with great volume and power. And now Helluin understood what passed, for she had heard its like aforetime. The chant found its counterpoint and a harmonic arose, the rumbling hum of a standing wave of sound that shook the ground in pulses, echoing and reechoing, and growing ever louder. The Elves stopped their ears. The very air throbbed. And then a blinding flash exploded in their midst and all ended in silence. The nameless Onod had vanished and in his place lay a scorched depression holding but a few smoldering embers. A thin tendril of smoke rose from it.

"Such were the songs of power of the Mighty from the West," Helluin whispered in awe, "and in the War of Wrath did they level mountains and lay low all foes."

The Enyd gathered around the Elves and looked them over with expressions of concern.

"'Twas fortunate I was able to gather a moot," the leader of the Enyd told them, speaking "hastily" in Silvan for Beinvír's benefit, "for one or two of us alone would not have sufficed to drive forth a spirit of such dark malevolence. Thou art more brave and more foolish than Elves were in the old days," he told Helluin gravely, "to oppose a Maia thus…detestable, shape-shifting, impersonating, lying, brooo-hooom!"

"Sauron?" Beinvír asked just to be sure.

"Foul-mouthed, black-hearted, life-leeching, soul-stealing, knee-bending, evil-eyed, greedy-handed, meat-eating, blood-drinking, bone-grinding, tooth-gnashing, skin-flaying, eye-blinding, thrall-binding, slave-driving, Yrch-breeding, Tor-farming, war-mongering, craven-bellied, villain of many names…not to be hasty, but…yes."

Helluin groaned. Again she hadn't recognized him.

"Is he gone?" Beinvír asked, looking around anxiously.

"Oh most certainly," Treebeard assured her, "he knows better than to stay anywhere near so many of us. It has been a very long time since he came hither, but we remember him. An Age or two isn't long enough to forget Melkor's little slave. He has no doubt gone back to whatever evil he was hatching ere he came hither seeking thee."

"Us?" The Green Elf squeaked.

"He certainly didn't come here looking for us," Fangorn said. "He would have known the reception we'd give him…just like last time."

Here the other Enyd shook their "heads" and murmured in agreement.

"I am called by many names, and these are long as my years, but in your tongue I am _Fangorn_**¹**. You see, young Elflings, 'tis like this…" he began. Then Fangorn preceded with a slow recitation, explaining their previous meetings with Sauron Gorthaur, their rejection of him along with his master long ago, and their Ages-long defense of the forest. In the twilight, ere ever the Eldar marched west, the Onodrim had guarded the mighty woods of Middle Earth against the fell shadows of Melkor. And the shadows had fled before them.

**¹**(**Fangorn, _Treebeard, fang_**(beard) + **_orn_**(large tree) Sindarin)

Helluin was busy furiously memorizing everything she heard. Here was a wealth of information. Treebeard was Fangorn and he was the forest, or at least he embodied its virtues. (The concept, he'd explained, didn't translate well into kelvaric speech since its foundations were olvaric…the slow intertwinings of root fibers through soil and the ceaseless absorption of light and water and minerals, but all within a spiritual realm). With the other Onodrim he kept order in Fangorn, much as Oldbark did in Greenwood. They herded the trees, managed the Huorns, protected the olvar at Yavanna's wish, and kept strangers out of trouble if they sought it not or came without evil intent.

Like their forest, they were more intense than the Enyd of Greenwood, more numerous and more active, and more cohesive as a group in exercising power. Treebeard claimed that Fangorn Forest held a measure of 'treeness', (the Entish word didn't translate well into Elven tongues, he'd said), equal to that of Greenwood, but it was concentrated in a fraction of the space, hence their forest seemed more 'treeish'. It all made sense in a way.

What amazed Helluin at first was that they could sing with such power as to drive off Sauron. Then she recalled Oldbark's beliefs, that in a far and ancient time, the trees had raised their voices in praise of the Valar when they lived on the Isle of Almaren 'neath the Light of the Lamps. Now after hearing their voices more than by any other evidence did she find credence in his words. And having lived amongst the Valar, a single fallen Maia seemed a manageable threat. Indeed they seemed little impressed or concerned with him. They could be indispensable allies.

"Would thou stand with us in war, should Sauron embattle the free peoples of the world?" She asked hopefully.

Treebeard regarded her for a long moment as if trying to understand her question.

"We shall certainly drive him from our forest, if that is what thou mean, but if thou ask us to go to battle beyond our borders, then the answer is no. Our power is granted to us for the protection of the forests and that responsibility was defined in our making. 'Tis our part in the Song of the Ainur. We cannot change our doom."

"But…" Helluin began, but Treebeard cut her off, a rare act for an Onod.

"No buts! It has always been thus and it will always be so for long as we can do so. When all the world was forest under stars, Morgoth fled north to the mountains and ice. He burned Anfauglith lest trees come thither from Beleriand. Did you not know? Yet now the forests contract. They have been contracting since ere the sun and moon. We fade, just as your people do. 'Tis the Song…and our part lasts not until the end. We know this and accept it. Time passes; all things must change."

"I understand," Helluin said. Yet she was already thinking of plans by which to draw Sauron into Fangorn and entrap him there. Somehow Treebeard seemed to sense this.

"'Tis not wise to overstep thy place, Noldo. Ever that was your people's failing. If Sauron comes 'nigh, then he shall come. If not, then you shall not compel him hither. Fear not; he was not meant to rule Arda any more than Melkor was, though both shall leave their mark in suffering, and that too was in the Song."

Helluin looked at him. It was against her nature to just sit by and let be, for it irked her to wait deedless rather than to try and shape her times for the better.

"Morgoth was the marring of his age, as Sauron will be to his, the lesser servant of a greater master, and that fitting to the fading of all in Arda. Ever shall good and evil contest, but with ever less power, for the morning of Arda has passed, its noon has come and gone, and the afternoon shall be a long waning to twilight. You shall see much of it, Helluin, if that be your fate."

"I only want to help," she said, sounding more plaintive than she had intended.

"You shall do your part," he told her calmly, "no more, no less. We are all here for a reason, even if that purpose is ever hidden from us. Go forward with faith in the Song; make the best choices you can and follow your heart."

Helluin nodded and fell silent. She looked over at Beinvír and saw that her friend was hugging herself and softly trembling, and that her eyes were wide and fearful. Under Treebeard's watchful gaze she moved behind the Green Elf and wrapped her arms around her, settling her chin atop the shorter elleth's head in a comforting way. Beinvír closed her eyes and leaned back against Helluin accepting her closeness and warmth.

"'Tis twice now he hath sought thee out," she mumbled. "Sauron pays thee particular attention for some reason and we know not why. I fear for thee greatly. I fear for us."

Helluin didn't know what to say to assuage those fears. She didn't understand why Sauron would want anything to do with her. It went without saying that they were enemies forever. She had fought against his forces while he was Morgoth's lieutenant, but so too had many of the Sindar and all the remaining Noldor in Middle Earth. She was neither royalty nor had she been a captain in Beleriand. If anything, she had been an embarrassment to the Noldorin armies; undisciplined, ungovernable on the field, unpredictable, and given to fighting alone in a murderous frenzy. She had made many of her comrades uncomfortable; indeed no few had come to fear her battle mania. And she had always been something of an outsider even in her own culture, for she had been unsocial, a loner. All she could do was give Beinvír a squeeze and softly kiss the top of her head. The last thing she wanted to do was drag her friend into danger. She'd been there, done that.

With the Host of Fingolfin she had marched from Aman. Beside her had marched her younger brother, Verinno, seeking adventure and hoping to see Middle Earth with his older sister, whom he'd believed could do anything. Yet she hadn't even been able to protect him long enough for him to set foot on the Hither Shores. She had lost him in the Grinding Ice. She had failed him.

Helluin had come to hate the House of Feanor for abandoning them at the Helcaraxe and burning the Telerian ships to strand them. They had already inaugurated their rebellion with the kinslaying at Alqualonde where many of her friends had died, but in the far north, they had committed worse, for in causing Verinno's death, the act of kinslaying had become personal. Six hundred years and more passed in Beleriand, and finally at Avernien she had slain Amrod and Amras and she had gone after Maedhros and Maglor intending to spill their blood as well. She had hated them for their part in their father's crimes. She had hated them for killing her brother, but she had hated herself as well. She had failed him and she would not let such a thing happen again. She would not fail her trusting new friend.

"We shalt go back through Eregion," she said. "In the morning we shalt turn south, retracing our steps, but this time fording Angren and avoiding the forest of the Enedwaith. I shalt return thee safely to Eriador, thy home."

"And what shalt thou do then?" Beinvír asked, turning to face Helluin in the circle of her arms. She was ever so worried for her even though she knew the Noldo had spent centuries wandering alone. "Wilt thou stay or wilt thou journey thither alone?"

Helluin chewed her lip a moment, thinking. T'would be more pleasant to remain in Eriador with Beinvír and let Celeborn and Galadriel fare as they would, but in so doing she would lose the opportunity to solidify the future course of the Nandor of Lindórinand. It wouldn't feel right. She had urged King Lenwin to approach the Naugrim of Khazad-dum in friendship, and as she had been in Eregion in 992, she was still the best one to broker an alliance with the Dwarves. Her heart told her that she could not abandon this mission, for its success could save many lives and perhaps an entire realm.

"Once I know thou art safely home, I shalt make my way to Lindórinand by the quickest paths, and there promote an alliance between that realm and Khazad-dum. Only I am known to all parties, those of the mellyrn forest, Durin's Folk, and the refugees of Ost-In-Edhil. I must do this." Ere she'd finished half her words, Beinvír was shaking her head, "no".

"Much would I favor returning to my homelands," Beinvír said, "but this I will not hath upon my conscience; to set thee upon the quickest path to Lindórinand means thou shalt take the road through Eregion to Khazad-dum. Thou would again come 'nigh Sauron without need. Nay, we shalt not turn south. Tomorrow we shalt continue north and I shalt go with thee to Lindórinand. Besides, I desire to meet my long sundered kinfolk and carry word thence to their king of his cousin, Dálindir."

"I can carry such tidings to King Lenwin, Beinvír," Helluin protested. "In some future days of peace shalt we go thither, perhaps with Dálindir and all his company. For now, I would see thee safe…"

"No, Helluin! I shalt not leave thee to tread dangerous paths alone and for no need! We art close, are we not?" She turned to Fangorn and asked, "How many leagues doth lie 'twixt here and the Golden Wood?"

"The Golden Wood…Lórglad," the Onod mused as if sampling the flavor of the words, "Laurelindórinan, Valley of Singing Gold, for they sing in Lindórinand still, do they not? Vale of the Land of the Singers it is now called. Its southern borders lay 50 leagues north and Tuna-i-Aldoen but three more 'cross Celebrant. 'Tis a week's travel thither through the forest, Hastier Elf."

"One week only," Beinvír admonished Helluin, "but if thou escort me to Eriador, then thou shalt not come there 'till mid-Cerveth, (mid-July), and this 9 Lothron, (May 9th)…or perhaps not at all should things go ill." She shivered at the thought of Helluin passing 'nigh Ost-In-Edhil. Sauron would certainly sense her presence. He'd found her here in Fangorn even further away.

"But…" Helluin began, yet for the second time that day she was cut off by the Onod.

"Such a course makes sense," Treebeard reasoned, "and Eriador is more likely to become a battlefield than is Lindórinand, I think. In Sauron's malice is lust to ruin first Eregion and Lindon, for there his chief enemies dwell. He cares little yet for the Nandor while the Noldor and Sindar yet remain. Go to Lindórinand, Helluin; take thy friend thither to see her kin. There have been some changes you would do well to know."

With a groan Helluin abandoned her protests for that time. Though she still had many misgivings, she was glad of Beinvír's company. And so they continued on their way after some further advice from Treebeard about his forest.

**To Be Continued**


	23. In An Age Before Chapter 23

**In An Age Before – Part 23

* * *

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**Chapter Twenty**

_**Lindórinand (Lórinand) - The Second Age of the Sun**_

For the first time, Helluin approached the mellyrn forest other than from Khazad-dum, and her welcome was somewhat less warm than what she'd become accustomed to. Indeed, having heard a company moving stealthily to surround them for some time, Helluin finally bid Beinvír halt so she could announce them. Ere she could do so, they were greeted with two-dozen drawn bows and the grim eyes of the Tawarwaith staring down the shafts of their arrows at them. Helluin groaned in exasperation. Beside her, Beinvír gulped.

"Greet now thy kin," Helluin muttered.

"Who art ye that come'th unsummoned, hither unto the realm of Lórinand," the company's leader asked, "speak ere we shoot thee."

"I am Helluin, Hunter of King Lenwin and Gôrgbu of Drúwaith Iaur," Helluin said with a straight face, "and with me come'th Beinvír of the _Galadrim_**¹** of Eriador. I hath the leave of thy lord to walk in these lands, and for my fiend shalt I vouch before his throne."

**¹**(**Galadrim, _Green Elves_**, Sindarin. Close equivalent of **Laiquendi,** Quenya. Corrected in the LoTR rev ed as **Galadhrim**. For this story, I will use the corrected name only for the people of , Lórien once that name comes into use.)

"Thou hast been long away, Helluin of the Host of Finwe, and much hath come to pass ere last thou walked 'neath the mellyrn," the company leader said grimly. "King Lenwin rules here no longer. Hunter and Gôrgbu thou may be, still must thou be taken before our Lord Amdír for his judgment. Thy voucher for thy friend is for naught. Now surrender thy arms and come thither."

"Guess they weren't impressed with thy titles," Beinvír whispered to Helluin as she handed over her bow, quiver, short sword, and knife.

"What hath become of King Lenwin and Lady Calenwen?" Helluin asked a border guard as she handed over her own bow and quiver.

"They art gone forever," was the terse reply. Another guard stepped forward to take her sword.

"Draw my blade and I shalt gladly bath in thy blood," Anguirel said. The guard gasped in horror at the black sword's malevolence and his hand shook as he gingerly held the scabbard at arm's length after Helluin handed it to him.

"What say the Cirth upon thy weapon," a third asked as he reached to take the Sarchram. He neither spoke nor read Quenya. "Be it a charm of Valinor, or some pretty frill of the Noldor perhaps?" He asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"It says in Quenya of Tirion, _'One ring that flies to find them. One ring to send them all unto the Void and in its darkness bind them.'_ A pretty trifle indeed," Helluin told him.

"Deliver thyself to me," the Grave Wing offered in its cold voice, "and I shalt spare thy fëa Mandos' Halls 'til world's ending."

The Nando dropped the ring as if it had burned his hand. Seeing this, Helluin mirthlessly asked, "Surely thou fear'st not the cold of the Void, while'st here under thy golden trees? From the windows of the house of Nienna I hath seen the Void and there was naught there to fear…save fear." Helluin regarded him with an intensity that made him cringe.

Thereafter the guard wouldn't touch the ring, but trembled in terror as he carried it thickly swaddled in a cloak whose folds he suspended from a short length of rope. His precautions gave Helluin grim delight; some small recompense for their treatment.

The border guards led the two travelers northwest through the forest, and crossing Celebrant, they passed into Egladil, or the Naith. A half-mile north of its banks they came upon the site where the Nandorin city had been of old. The telain there were deserted and the paths o'ergrown. Soon after, to Helluin's surprise, they came to a new city, more compact and closer to the Hill of the Great Tree.

This city had been itself built upon a hill and it was circular, surrounded by a fosse, or dry moat, and within that by a dike upon which rose an encircling palisade. Now rather than being built of wood or stone as in other places, this palisade was a continuous impassible hedge, tall, dense, thick, and thorny. The wall it formed o'erlapped at its ends to form a short corridor behind the only gates, and these faced just west of due south. To cross the fosse, one walked o'er a bridge that joined the corridor with a paved, encircling path. This ran from south to north along the outer edge of the fosse on the western side of the city. A single small stream ran out through a deep cutting in the southeast.

Within the hedge wall stood countless large mellyrn trees, a dense enclosed tract of forest. No doubt all the branches were filled with aldar opélille and rope walks.

Helluin took all this in with a warrior's eye. 'Twas a more defensible position, but nothing in comparison to the fortifications she had seen elsewhere. Indeed 'twas feeble construction compared to Ost-In-Edhil or Lindon. On the other hand, the hill was covered with elevated shooting positions and filled with many archers. It would not be taken easily, save by fire or a long siege. For all this, it was a welcome sight. _The sooner to come before the new king and straighten things out_,_ the better_, Helluin thought. And at least the air rang with song as evening fell and the lamps were lit, for many voices rose to greet the stars. Ere they passed across the bridge o'er the fosse, the leader of the guard company brought them to a halt.

"'Tis Caras Galadon, city of Lórinand and of King Amdír," he said with pride. "Thou shalt come before him this eve after we sup." Helluin nodded to him.

"I am impressed that so much hath been achieved since last I came hither. Thy city's trees art mighty, and I hath been absent but 250 years," Helluin said. "Tell me, I pray thee, how long hath passed since King Amdír began his reign?"

"Our prior lord, King Lenwin was slain in 1187 of this Age, and thence for some years were our people bereft of lord. Down Anduin passed Lady Calenwen in the following year, seeking the realm of Belfalas, to bear thither tidings to King Lenwe and beseech him for passage into the West. In 1203 came Lord Amdír and his son Amroth from the people of King Oropher in Greenwood. Lord Amdír was known to us aforetime when he came hither with the company from Eregion. He was well liked by all and liked well our lands. After several years amongst us, the people beseeched him to take the throne and govern our realm. He hath done much for us since."

"And in his time was Caras Galadon built?" Beinvír asked, looking in wonder at the trees within the palisade.

"Indeed so. In 1209 did we begin abuilding. By 1225 most of our labor was done save the growth of the olvar, and they hath thrived indeed with water and light and song. Great was our fortune that dwelt here such mighty trees, and hedges so quick of growth once given Anar's light after the digging of the fosse. By Yavanna we art truly blessed."

Helluin and Beinvír both nodded in agreement. The city was little more than 150 years old, yet its trees had surely stood long aforetime, for their life's tale and growth bespoke many hundreds of years. But the hedge had matured admirably in the light newly made available when the land was cleared for the fosse and the path beyond it. With these tidings and impressions, they crossed the bridge and passed within the gate.

The company made their way uphill towards the center of Caras Galadon by a footpath well worn in the soil and partially paved with natural stones. 'Neath the trees the air was cool and it seemed a breeze continuously rustled the golden leaves where only intermittent breaths had blown in the forest outside the city. The air itself carried the mingled scents of many kinds of flowers joining the notes of many songs to sweeten the evening with sound and smell. Here and there lamps winked on amidst the boughs, showing forth from telain at many different levels. Ere they had covered half the distance to the city's center they could see a growing luminosity well above the ground.

When they had neared the hill's crown, the company of border guards stopped 'neath a great tree where a platform had been built barely off the ground above the exposed roots on one side of the trunk. 'Twas overhung by a sloping awning that rustled in the breezes and was lit within by many lamps. Tables were set there, and benches, and there were places for many to be seated and to dine. Here the company delivered Helluin and Beinvír, and set their weapons into a cabinet to one side. Then, taking seats, the company was offered a varied fare by servers who came thither from a kitchen in the rear.

Helluin and Beinvír had been seated far apart, and they were provided with bread and cheese, ripe fruit, and roasted meats on skewers marinated in a flavorful glaze of many spices. There was pale chilled ale and a full-bodied red wine. They were allowed to eat and drink their fill as did the company, but Helluin drank only sparingly though she ate with gusto while keeping an eye on her friend.

Beinvír had been constantly looking about, trying to ingest every available image and commit all to memory. To her the city was strange; more comfortable than a city of stone could ever be, but far removed from the camps 'neath the stars to which her people were accustomed. 'Twas a welcome yet subtly disturbing blend of what was, and was not, to her, a familiar life for Silvan Elves. Here, though they were still surrounded by nature, they were far from being a wandering company; they made nature "do things", ordering it according to their plans. They imposed their will on their surroundings rather than accepting them as they were. And the Lórinandrim were far less stealthy than her people, though still more so than the Sindar or Noldor. She would know their presence, had known it long before the guards had appeared, (indeed even Helluin had), and she could as easily vanish from their sight and remain undiscovered. She was tempted to leave now, had been tempted to do so when they'd demanded her weapons, but she didn't want to jeopardize Helluin's "mission" and she wanted to see more.

"Art thy borders constantly in jeopardy?" She asked the guard seated beside her.

He was a young Elf, perhaps younger than she herself, dark-haired and slender, of average height, and he finished swallowing a portion of meat ere he answered.

"Alas, yes," he said, shaking his head sadly, "since ere I was born hath Lórinand's borders been at risk from many foes. Oh, 'tis not the siege of open war; nay, 'tis rather a permanent threat of incursion, for the most part by Yrch and Easterling Men. I fear it shalt always be thus."

"How horrible," Beinvír said, "in a land of such beauty to be ever unable to enjoy it freely and at ease. I should find it tiresome ere long."

"Indeed 'tis tiresome as thou doth say, yet what is there for it but to preserver? I know 'naught of any other way. Indeed few of us do anymore. Is it not thus also in thy land?"

"Nay, 'tis not," Beinvír said with certainty, "or at least it hath been otherwise for many _ennin_**¹**. Enemies art few and but poorly ordered, and they pose little threat. My people go mostly about the land in companies, lingering when it suits them, traveling as their fancy calls them, and tarrying never in one place more than a season or two. We wander as is our wont, and hath ever been our way, even ere the breaking of the old lands to the west."

**¹**(**ennin, **a unit of 144years of the sun. Sindarin)

"But doth thou not miss a home?" He asked in surprise.

"Nay, Eriador is my home, nearly all of it, or the good parts at least, such as I favor. I should not build something at no need ere I be tied to it and thence be obligated to defend it. I should then soon come to resent it and burn it myself."

"Thy ways doth seem very strange to me," he admitted, looking at her curiously.

"And thine to me," Beinvír replied, taking a sip of wine ere she continued. "Doth thou not wish to see many lands?"

"Nay, Lórinand is my home. Indeed I should be uncomfortable elsewhere were I to go thither…and I should miss my people."

Beinvír sat chewing a mouthful of bread and cheese. She had come to the conclusion that the Lórinandrim were city folk, as much as ever were those of Ost-In-Edhil. Yet the Lórinandrim too were Nandor. For some reason it seemed improper to her.

"Dost thou know of my friend, Helluin?" Beinvír asked.

"I am sorry, but I find thy friend terrifying and strange. Her gaze make'th me uncomfortable and she ever comes and goes through many years. I hath heard that first she appeared from Khazad-dum, 'nigh on a thousand years ago, upsetting the late king with many fell tidings. I know she is wise after her people, but I understand her not."

"She is much as art my people; a houseless wanderer of many lands with many friends in many places. She is also a warrior as thou art but as my people art not. She is wise yet oft confused, brave yet also fallible, dour and outrageously funny, and in her company I hath seen many wonders."

"But does she not scare thee?"

"Nay, I fear her not, for she hath ever sought to protect and support me. She hast become dear to me and I find I love her. I understand that many of her kindred feel great disquiet o'er her battle rage, and many deem her a dark force in their midst. Yet is not the dark of night as necessary as the light of day, and doth not Ithil shine with Holy Light in its manner as surely as doth Anor? In Helluin lives a spirit to confront the enemy with ferocity such as to make him quail, and this as much as bright swords I deem necessary. The dark days ahead shalt prove me right, even as did the dark days of yore. No enemy so fierce had the soldiery of Morgoth, nor shalt the minions of Sauron. Yet I worry greatly for her when her travels take her into danger. And she hath seen such as I shalt never see, indeed such as no longer exists to be seen, and done such as even those of the Amanyar dared not."

"Indeed so? I hath thought all the Noldor were such as she," he said, muttering in addition, "though in truth the only other such I hath seen behaved far more strangely."

Beinvír felt something amiss in his words, something that set off an alarm within her. Yet 'twas something she could lay not a finger upon with certainty. She filed away the thought for later contemplation. And she would have to discuss it with Helluin. In reply, Beinvír chose to refer to physical rather than behavioral characteristics.

"Nay. Of all the Noldor, she alone hath blue eyes."

Even as she finished that sentence the company leader came with two guards to take her and Helluin before the king. Straightaway they left the dining pavilion and made their way uphill towards the great light at the city's center. Soon it became clear that this light emanated from a talan high in the massive branches of the central mallorn. There was set a hall of white wood, and to Helluin it bore a close resemblance to that of King Lenwin in the old city. Unlike that older hall though, rather than walking a rope to reach this one, they climbed a stair that wound 'round the trunk in a spiral of many steps, passing smaller telain at several levels where were gathered many Elves. From these, rope walks led off into space, into the darkness between telain in adjacent trees where yet more of the host of Lórinand dwelt.

The climb took some time, but finally they reached the top. There upon the high talanstood the Hall of King Amdír, ringed all about with many lamps; indeed, Helluin thought, 'twas bright as day. The doors stood open, and from within came many voices raised in song, and yet more speaking one to another or in groups. Here was the king's court, yet 'twas also the scene of merriment and lore telling, not business only as in Lindon or Ost-In-Edhil. The less formal atmosphere was typical of the Nandor, and King Lenwe's hall in Belfalas came to mind. Here many threads of thought flowed through many conversations, all proceeding at once, yet if propriety required, all would cease and attend to their king. Just such befell as a herald announced the company to the court. This was done in a formal manner following the single peal of a silver bell.

"My Lord King Amdír and all thou lords and ladies, here in honor of the law art brought before this court, two found wayward upon the southern border. They declare themselves thusly, Helluin of the Host of Finwe, and Beinvír of the Galadrim of Eriador."

Here the guards ushered Helluin and Beinvír forward, through the throng that parted for their passage, and towards a figure seated on a high-backed chair carved of white wood washed in gold, almost indistinguishable, in Helluin's opinion, from that of King Lenwin. The throne was set on a low dais of a single step, and as in the old city, 'twas ringed by the seats of the king's counselors. King Amdír was older than Lenwin had been, and he was a Sinda rather than a native Nando. Like most of the Teleri, indeed like most of the Eldar, he was dark haired and grey eyed, but there was a fugitive light in his eyes as there was not amongst the Nandor, and this trait was as much felt as seen. Helluin had known such aforetime amongst the refugees of Doriath. Amdír, she suspected, had come of that realm, or perhaps his parents had, for that background conferred a light, not of the Trees, but of the power of Melian the Maia that had long suffused that land. 'Twas the legacy of the Imperishable Flame, yes, but come through a different source than Helluin's people had sought in the West. Now when she and Beinvír stood before his throne, Amdír rose to greet them as was the custom.

The two travelers bowed to the Lord of Lórinand as etiquette dictated, and he nodded to them in acknowledgment of their obeisance. When they looked up he held their eyes, speaking thus in silence mind to mind.

_Welcome thou to the renewed Land of the Singers. Helluin, 'tis long since last I saw thee in Lindon at thy landfall with the Men of Númenor. I recall thee, for who would not, though I doubt thou marked me amidst the throng at the feast of Gil-galad. I honor thee and would beseech thy counsel in a matter arisen of late._

_Beinvír, glad is my heart to meet again one of the Laiquendi. To Doriath came many of thy people long ago, and there were they welcomed by King Elwe Singollo and Melian the Queen. I welcome thee now, for who am I, the lesser king of a lesser realm, to do aught but as did they aforetime?_

Then Beinvír bowed her head in respect at his fair words answering:

_And I am most honored by thy gracious welcome to thy realm, I who art but the younger daughter of a wandering people. Ever thankful art my folk of thy people's succor in their time of need and fear. Glad I am to hath come hither to thy beautiful land._

And Helluin answered the king, saying:

_My thanks too for thy welcome, O King. Long indeed it hath been since that day in Lindon and many paths hath we each walked since. Whatsoever aid of counsel I can give shalt be thine, even as I was honored to aid in Avernien, the people of Doriath long ago._

Then to all at the court, King Amdír proclaimed, "The welcome of Lórinand do I extend henceforth; to Beinvír, thy long-sundered kin out of Eriador, and to Helluin, who hath served this realm with honor aforetime. In friendship they hath leave to come and to go, and to follow their hearts so long as their deeds break not the law. This is my judgment." Around them, many murmured in accord.

The court went back to its music and its conversations, but chairs were brought for Helluin and Beinvír and they sat before the dais to share tidings and hold converse with the king and his counselors. Wine and seeded cakes were served.

Helluin noted that amongst Amdír's counselors sat one younger but like unto the king in face; Prince Amroth, the King's Heir, she realized, handsome as his father but perhaps more emotional, more a servant of his heart. She nodded to him in greeting and saw him gulp self-consciously. She offered him a smile. Amongst the other counselors were many she had seen aforetime attending King Lenwin, and she met the eyes of each, acknowledging each in turn. Beinvír smiled at them and they at her as though charmed, and this too Helluin noted with a grin, especially the long looks given her friend by Prince Amroth who returned again and again to her eyes. The king cleared his throat ceremonially to draw their attention ere he spoke.

"I hath a matter in particular which begs for thy counsel," King Amdír said to Helluin, "and indeed thy appearance is timely. I host other guests of less friendly disposition, whom, alas, I am forced to restrain. Indeed these art known to thee as to me, though to me less than thou." He seemed quite nervous and indecisive, wringing his hands and swallowing theatrically.

Helluin cocked her head in question, while Amdír simply seemed uncomfortable.

"Who art these prisoners thou hath had to restrain?" She asked, more than curious now.

"Indeed they art not prisoners, not truly," he said with a sigh, "say rather they art guests who hath become unmanageable. A once noble couple undone; she striding hither and thither about the land in a frenzy, seeking out every stream within the wood; he following with failing patience and fraying temper, and both ranging too oft near the borders for prudence. I had but little choice save to confine them upon a high talan near at hand, and curtail their coming and going ere some sense was made of their tale. That tale is very odd, and indeed thou art named amidmost in it. In truth, Helluin, I know not what to do."

Helluin had listened to his discourse and began to suspect that she knew of whom he spoke. She could scarce constrain her snickering. Beinvír's eyes flicked back and forth between her friend and the king in confusion.

Helluin leaned over and whispered, "'Tis no doubt Galadriel…she hath cracked at last. Poor Celeborn." Beinvír gasped and Amdír shook his head sadly.

"Indeed 'tis just so," he confessed. "Celeborn was for a time my lord, and Galadriel…." Here he simply threw up his hands. "I feel much as a child locking his parents in their chamber, but their behavior…my folk hath become gossipmongers, and they refused not to endanger themselves. Gil-galad would be wroth if peril befell them, Celebrimbor as well, for he is enamoured of the Lady. I insisted on their restriction and they, (or she at least), hath taken to reviling me for it at every visit. Atop this, (as it were not enough already), their daughter, Celebrian, accompanied them hither in their exile from Eregion and now sees me as an arch villain. Indeed she refuses to attend my court. I hath come at last to my wit's end, Helluin. What shalt I do?"

Amdír presented himself so lost and plaintive in his turmoil that Helluin could no longer retain control of her mirth, and she guffawed aloud to the shock of all nearby. 'Twas some moments ere she mastered herself, and then, wiping tears from her eyes and schooling her features, she apologized and gave her counsel, after which the king was much relieved.

"Thy pardon I beg, O King. Indeed I am not fey, merely amused at a jest run far out of control." Here again Helluin had to stifle an outburst lest her demeanor degenerate into hysterics. "Thou remember the feast of Gil-galad in Lindon and the audience held before it, when with the Dúnedain of Númenor I came to the High King with tidings? Indeed at that very audience was I accosted by Galadriel; she was wroth with me for the crime of rendering the less her advantage o'er me in height. Whither came her preoccupation with such, and with me in particular, I know not, save that 'tis a long held affectation. Indeed I fell to temptation and fabricated thence a tale; (a tale she came wholly to believe it seems), blaming my crime upon a stream enchanted that doth run in thy land. Were she to drink of it, (I told her in confidence), she should increase her stature in all respects."

By now the king and most of his counselors had wholly lost their dignity and sat with mouths gaping, though as yet none laughed. Only Beinvír giggled, familiar already with the tale from Helluin's explanation of Galadriel's behavior in Ost-In-Edhil.

"But thou hast made of thy princess a buffoon," said one in shock.

"Thou hath lied to one of a royal house and caused her to endanger herself upon a fool's quest," accused another.

"Surely she shalt be wroth with thee forever," Amroth said nervously.

"By what glamour or enchantment dids't thou convince her of thy increase in height?" An elder counselor asked, failing not to perceive more truly than his fellows that indeed a mystery lay afoot. Helluin had known this _ellon_**¹** aforetime from King Lenwin's court.

**¹**(**ellon, **generic term for a male Elf. Sindarin)

Helluin groaned. Were she to confess the true source of her secret, most of the Lórinandrim would run thither to Oldbark's hall 'nigh Laiquadol and he would have no peace. The Onod would be wroth with her and Helluin indeed feared his wrath far more than Galadriel's. _He shalt surely send Huorns for me, _she thought,_ and never again shalt I be safe 'neath branch or leaf. I should be forced into refuge in Khazad-dum, or yet further still, to Númenor perhaps._ All around, many eyes bored into her in anticipation of learning some great and hidden secret of their realm.

"Come now, Helluin, for months I hath been saddled with the profits of thy humor," King Amdír said, "is there indeed a stream in the forest of Lórinand such as hast the virtue to increase stature? If so, then I should know of it. Thou spent many decades exploring these lands 'tis said."

Helluin had expected such a question and now formulated a response based on plausible deniability. She couldn't lie outright and indeed she sympathized with the king's plight.

"Nay, O King, none of which I know. Such was only a location bethought long ago in a moment's fancy when the whole charade seemed but a folly quick to pass. Indeed I deemed all memory of my words would die ere the morn in the face of other tidings of greater import." _Like thy smirking o'er my newfound love for a mortal Man, Princess Artanis_, Helluin thought.

King Amdír nodded to Helluin, having detected no lie in her eyes, and if he were a bit disappointed, was willing to put it from his mind to deal with his difficult guests. Not so his counselor, who alone amongst them seemed to notice that Helluin had not truly answered his question. Helluin regarded the vulturine gleam in his eyes and wondered if he couldn't be convinced to take a fall from a rope walk later that night. She had decided to ignore him, and indeed the topic might have finished, had not one long familiar to her come in from duty on the northern border and learned of her appearance. He, desiring to see again his friend, came thither to the court and at that moment presented himself at the dais with a bow to his lord. Helluin perceived his arrival at her back, not his identity.

"Ahhh, Haldir, my friend, welcome," King Amdír said, "here is Helluin whom thou hast long known, and Beinvír her friend, newly welcomed to our realm. Come, bring thyself a chair; rest thy feet and join us."

Of course etiquette dictated that Helluin and Beinvír rise from their seats to welcome the new arrival to their company. _Just in time_, Helluin thought in amazement as she stood and constructed a smile of greeting,_ he hath not seen me since ere last I went to Greenwood for a draught. Oh well._

"Hail and well met, Haldir, noble guardian of the northern border," Helluin said, extending her forearm and clasping his in a warrior's greeting, "'tis good to find thee safe." _Keep it simple and short or I shalt brain thee_, she commanded silently as she gave his forearm a vigorous squeeze. Haldir's eyes widened at her demand and the pressure on his arm, then slid upwards noting that she now o'ertopped him by more than a handswidth. He choked once and then gulped ere he stifled his shock and amazement, but he stuttered unaccountably when he spoke.

"Uh, h-hail, and umm w-well met, Helluin of the Host of Finwe. 'Tis good to see thee returned in such…fine health?" Helluin rolled her eyes, (thankful her back was to the others), hearing him in her mind's ear saying, _was that okay? And whyfore art thou now taller than when last we met? I thought the rantings of Galadriel but the words of one too long sundered from the West, or perhaps acutely sea longing-sick, but…_

_Enough! Now greet Beinvír and then sit down…thank you, _Helluin said silently.

"Greetings, Beinvír, and welcome to the realm of Lórinand," Haldir managed to say. He was so off balance from the whole exchange that when Beinvír offeredher hand, he lifted it without thinking and gallantly kissed her knuckles. This brought him a cold look from Amroth that confused him further. And if that wasn't enough, from Helluin he heard…

_Now sit thee down already and speak not further of this topic, or so help me…_

"Well, Haldir, we find that Helluin hath the key to unlock the mysterious behavior of Galadriel and Celeborn," Amdír began. "It doth seem the Lady believes herself losing her advantage in height o'er Helluin and seeks after a stream enchanted for to equalize the matter." Helluin gave Haldir a warning glance, a hint of fire flickering in her eyes.

Haldir looked at his lord in amazement after hearing his words, then at the circle of hungry faces yearning for a secret and hoping to partake of such a fair magic. Indeed one old counselor looked very nearly feral. Last he looked to Helluin beside him, upon whom he felt a dangerous mood growing. Now indeed the brave warrior wished himself far afield upon the north marches where naught but Orch companies threatened.

"The key I find bizarre enough to fit the lock, and both suited to a door through which the wits hath fled. I hath long examined the north, my lord, and others the west, east, and south. Naught of an enchanted stream hath any found in this realm." Haldir shrugged as if dismissing the notion.

"Thy words carry weight, Haldir," the king said, "for where Helluin spent some decades surveying these lands, thou and thy brothers hath spent centuries and more. If thou know'st no enchanted stream than none do. I shalt put it from my mind henceforth."

Haldir nodded to his lord and then asked, "for thy guest's madness hath thou discerned the cure? Their behavior and assertions hath much gossip whelped…"

"Bah! 'Tis but delusion atop a quest of fools; there is naught for it," Amdír said with a wave of his hand. "Helluin shalt go to them with explanations on the morrow and then all shalt be well." Here he looked pointedly at Helluin. She nodded her acquiescence to him, reminded of naught but the very same mannerisms in Gil-galad.

"Of course, O King," she said, and clenched her jaw. T'would be a morning in hell.

To Be Continued


	24. In An Age Before Chapter 24

**In An Age Before – Part 24**

_**Author's note:** Decided to post this part soon after Part 23 because in the manuscript they are actually segments of the same chapter and part 24 answers part 23. As a stand-alone, this is short_**

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That morning came all too soon for Helluin's liking, and just as Anar topped the horizon a guard led her up the stairs of an adjoining mallorn and to a walled talan set in the upper branches. 'Twas pleasant enough, she thought, with an admirable view, but there stood a pair of guards at the stairhead and a lock upon the door. From within came a crash, perhaps not the first of the day. Her guard winced. Helluin rolled her eyes.

"I hath come hither by order of the king," Helluin stated blandly, "to Udûn in the trees."

The guards snickered and one undid the lock. The other made ready to curtail any attempt at escape. The door was opened quickly and Helluin thrust inside ere it was shut and hurriedly relocked. She could hear the guards tittering through the slab of wood. Looking about the talan, she noted that it was indeed well appointed if one disregarded the broken crockery, spilt food, and clothing flung about. A partial height wall subdivided the space, and from beyond it came voices raised in passion. She could just see the crowns of two heads, one with hair of silver, the other silver-gold.

"Thy concern hast long fled all proportion and hast become an obsession!" Celeborn.

"I am not obsessed! I am seeking the treasure _she_ said lay hidden here, and I shalt find it if I must search every inch of this land and tear every tree limb from limb!" Galadriel.

"Whyfore? So thou can'st again claim thy primacy in height o'er _her_? Hast this not gone too far? Thy fixation with _her _hast bought our confinement! I cannot stand being cooped thus, like a capon awaiting the cook pot! Why thy lifelong contestation with Helluin? That I hath never understood…why Artanis? Why?" Celeborn (yelling).

For long moments there was blessed silence, then another crash. Helluin flinched and her eyes lit on the remains of a handheld harp lying broken on the floor nearby.

"Because the princes of the Noldor very nearly swooned in _her_ presence! Nay, at the mere mention of _her_ name did the hearts of the Amanyar flutter like crows in their death spasms and the most eloquent amongst them fall tongue-tied as robins choking on worms! And she a commoner, anti-social and cold, the breaker of more hearts than now beat in all the Blessed Realm!" Galadriel (screaming).

"Then this is but a fit of jealousy run out of control?" Celeborn (incredulous).

"Jealously! Jealousy! Imagine thou, centuries of watching my brothers drooling o'er _her_, Finrod breathless, cousin Turgon sculpting likeness after likeness, and not just they! My own father and mother befriended her…Uncle Fingolfin as well. Feanor made his first gems blue as _her_ eyes! After Nerdanel left he tramped the countryside in _her_ footsteps writing _her_ sheaves of verse in his new letters. Maglor endlessly sang songs, yet neither dared approach _her_ for lack of courage…seeing it very nearly drove me mad.

And did it cease after we came to the Hither Shores? Nay! Nay! To escape _her_ was half my reason for accepting exile, but then _she_ came too. 'Twas no escaping. I swear; _she_ was my own curse from the Valar!" Galadriel (panting in agitation) continued, "In popularity should there hath been none but Aredhel and myself amongst our host. Only in two things did I find solace; that _she_ had millennia to establish _herself_ ere I was born, and that I stood above _her_ by half a head."

"Still I doth see it not, Artanis. All that 'twas 2,000 years ago and more! Aredhel hath long passed away, and Helluin strays abroad for centuries. Wherefore comes this rivalry, truly, whither this grand and lifelong animosity?" Celeborn (exasperated).

Silence again, grown so heavy it could crush a horse. Helluin dared not breathe. Indeed she was very nearly struck dumb by what she had heard. Never in her wildest dreams had she realized the impact of her presence on the princess. Never in her weirdest nightmares had she imagined the devotion of her potential suitors. Feanor? She began wildly searching the room for someplace to hide should Celeborn or Galadriel come hither, but there was no place to conceal herself and so she hunkered down into a shadow and froze 'neath her cloak as Beinvír had taught her. A moment later, Galadriel took up again her rant, though now in a subdued flood of cathartic self-exposition.

"I…I hath been wroth with _her_ well 'nigh all my life, at first for want of attention from those _she_ ignored…I wanted to…to hate _her_ for it. Worse yet…I couldn't…for I…found myself craving _her_…wanting for _her_ attention, _her_ friendship, just like all the others. It seemed to me that everything _she_ did _she_ excelled at, and whether with ease or not it appeared so…and _she_ seemed not impressed at all. How I came to envy _her_. Yet _she_ merely trudged endlessly about the land, sleeping amidst rocks or 'neath trees, or camping in the houses of the Valar with equal comfort. She woulds't come thence to Tirion, smudged, with twigs in her hair, dressed like an Avari, and still all loved _her_!

But later _she_ grew enamoured of the Trees. Naught of us but approached them in awe, even the Vanyar, and yet _she_…_she_ would stand disrobed 'neath the fall of their Mingled Lights, alight _herself_ and unharmed by that which we dared not, for fear that Holy Light would smite us as with fire. Thou hast surely heard the Silmarils suffered not the touch of the unclean? Think now of their most pure source! No sight hath ever I seen in any Age to arouse me so thoroughly in all ways save that, and no image might I conjure to displace it. And so I am torn and cannot mend. I envy that born 'neath me yet rose above, love that I hath hated for no reason save my own weakness, and desire such as desires none." Galadriel (miserable, here actually commencing to sob).

Helluin was so thunderstruck by her words that she literally blacked out for a heartbeat and crashed against the door. Her only conceivable recovery was to kick the door again making even a greater noise and then call out, "Anyone home? 'Tis Helluin, come hither by order of the king."

From beyond the partition came the sound of a gasp, choking, and then stumbling feet, accompanied by an exclamation from Celeborn of, "Thy timing… surely thou doth jest!"

"Celeborn?" Helluin asked with convincing innocence. "Art thou and Galadriel decent?"

She was answered at once by the flight of a flagon directed with admirable precision at her head. Indeed she barely ducked in time to avoid it and hear Galadriel screaming:

"You? You! Why hast thou come hither? Hath Amdír ordered thee to torment me? That knave! He hath imprisoned us and summoned thee, obviously hoping to cheat me of my rightful due! Well, I shalt not stand for it! I shan't!" Her eyes had been locked on Helluin's from the first moment, and now Galadriel rounded the partition, demanding imperiously, "Thou shalt reveal the secret of thy stream to me and no other, or I shalt exile thee to Mordor myself! Celeborn, seize her!"

Helluin noted that the princess was in a shocking state of agitation, wild of eye and hair, indeed as one who had just run for her life. Her movements were awkward and angular in her haste, and an expression of mania shaped her face. For the first time in Helluin's recall, Galadriel's eyes were flaring with a ril of silver light and she could almost see steam arising from the princess' brow. Additionally, Helluin marked that she now wore an eagle-shaped pendant of silver that bore a green stone, eerily familiar. Galadriel came striding forth towards her with purpose.

Celeborn, appearing frustrated and haggard, stepped around the partition in Galadriel's wake and glowered at Helluin. He relished not the notion of grappling her at his wife's command, thus to follow lunacy with madness. Indeed the old and upsetting reports of Helluin Maeg-mormenel had always made him nervous. Long had he been convinced that her civility as but thinly veneered o'er a propensity to unrestrained slaughter. With much relief he noticed that Helluin wasn't armed.

In two more strides Galadriel was almost nose to nose with her tormentor; indeed she would have been save that she now stood just o'er three inches shorter. Noticing this, she withdrew a step to diminish the perception of the disparity, though she had calmed not at all. Helluin was watching her carefully, indeed expecting the pummeling to begin at any moment. Instead of fisticuffs, 'twas Celeborn, who with his last harried effort at diplomacy, proffered a solution.

"Helluin, if thou hast some secret, I beseech thee, tell it now ere all propriety flee," he begged. "Thou hast besmirched our reputations, and our domestic tranquility hath degenerated to that of a Yrch lair. I fear Lord Amdír's patience grows as threadbare as my own. I pray thee, for the sake of my marriage and my sanity, share what thou know."

There was really aught else she could do, with Galadriel seething not a foot away and Celeborn standing 'nigh in an attitude of such pathetic suspense. Still, the walls had ears, the trees had eyes, and every Elf in Lórinand had no doubt become possessed of a ravishing desire to know the outcome of their conversation. Helluin beckoned him over so she could meet their eyes together and speak in silence, mind to mind.

_The stream of which I spoke doth indeed exist, but to protect it I hath dissembled of its locale. I shalt require thee both to accompany me into the wilderness for some time_, Helluin said to them sternly. The contact was wearying, so agitated was Galadriel and so nervous was Celeborn. _Thou must come thither alone and in secret, and thou can'st never reveal to any what thou learn, upon pain of death._ Seeing the blind hope in their eyes, and knowing they'd promise anything at that moment, she added, _a very, very slow and excruciating death, with such torment as would make Morgoth himself jealous. Doth thou agree?_ Of course they both immediately nodded vigorously in assent.

_Can'st thou conceive to act rationally for a time so that I may achieve thy release?_

Again, both nodded in agreement. Galadriel would probably do anything at this point, Helluin thought, and Celeborn, anything simply to be free.

_Then await me hither, and pray exhibit some levity to make the more convincing thy rehabilitation,_ Helluin suggested. _Perhaps thou could laugh or sing a song?_

At this they both scowled and gritted their teeth but still nodded their agreement, as Helluin had managed to make her suggestions with a straight face. Nodding to them, she turned and rapped upon the door, calling out to the guards, "I am done. I hath need to leave." A last glance back revealed Celeborn looking sadly at the remains of his harp.

Almost immediately the door cracked open and the guards looked in, unable to hide the gleam of anticipation in their eyes. Helluin was sure the two had set their ears to the door as soon as she had entered and had memorized every spoken phrase for the gratification of their gossiping. Still she had to commend them for their restraint, for neither asked a single question. Nor did the guard who had accompanied her up, and had stayed with his fellows on the stairs, ask aught of her the entire time they made their way back to King Amdír's hall. There she was quickly granted an audience, and she noted that the king was as nervous as Celeborn had been.

"Say thou hast achieved some measure of success, I pray thee," he said, sipping nervously from a cup of wine. He poured her a cup as well and thrust it into her hand ere she even took her seat.

"I hath had a measure of success indeed, O King," Helluin reported, amazed at the grand sigh of relief he produced, "and thy guests hath promised to conduct themselves with dignity befitting their station as guests. No more shalt they roam the land like thirsty beasts, nor promenade themselves 'nigh the borders. I am certain their word is good, and they were indeed much calmer ere I left." _As I am certain thy guards shalt report_, she thought,_ indeed thou shalt no doubt hear every word._ She sighed no less dramatically than the king, as if commiserating with him in spirit ere she resumed. "I should be made more credible in their eyes if thou would see fit to release them from thy custody and into my company for a while. Beinvír and I shalt be vigilant and note any backsliding."

For show, the king sat contemplating her proposal for some moments as they sipped their wine. In truth, there was little he would rather do than convey the responsibility for them unto Helluin for the duration. Indeed happier yet would he be if she somehow contrived to lead them hence, far, far away. For her part, Helluin knew a pause of protocol when she experienced one and endured it in silence. She could almost hear Amdír counting down the passing moments to accumulate what he deemed a proper period of thought for a decision of such gravity. _He is a good king_, she thought charitably, _knowledgeable about the importance of appearances_.

"Thy tidings bring me great relief, Helluin," Amdír gravely said at last, though unable to wholly hide his rejoicing in the outcome. "I was right to entrust this diplomacy to thee. Now that I hath carefully considered thy proposal, I see not why such should not be. I shalt order their release immediately." He offered Helluin a smile that she returned.

"A small request I would make of thee, O King," Helluin said. At his nod, she continued. "I beseech thee to wait yet a while ere thou release them, for I should attend to my friend whom I left ere dawn, and then both of us should attend to breaking our fast. I know thy guests hath been provided fare on which to sup ere I came to them, and I should not force them to wait on us while we dine."

King Amdír nodded in agreement. Helluin had solved a problem for him. He saw no reason to deprive her or Beinvír of their morning meal. His guests knew not of his decision and would not until their release. Delaying that an hour mattered not.

"Go thou then to thy friend and take thy meal, Helluin. Again, thou hast my thanks."

To Be Continued


	25. In An Age Before Chapter 25

**In An Age Before – Part 25

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_**Short update this time folks since the holiday weekend is upon us. Enjoy!**_

_**Calvusfelix: **Thanks for your review. I'm glad you're enjoying the intensity and the setting descriptions. From your email addy I'm guessing you're a Maglor fan? Well, with respect to the death of Maglor, I honestly don't recall stating that he was deceased though it may have been implied. The one reference to his fate that I can point to is: _

"We hath been doing nothing less for the last 600 years, even if at the start we knew it not," Maglor had said, shaking his head. "Failure and death art our appointed lot. For what 'tis worth, I should be loath to add craven." Yet he would be the only brother to survive, if but to voice his lamentations in song.

_This is from Part 7 when Helluin confronts Maedhros and Maglor after they decide to try to steal the Silmarils from the camp of the victorious Valar following the War of Wrath. For all practical purposes he is still in Middle Earth…somewhere. _

**Chapter Twenty-one**

_**Greenwood the Great - The Second Age of the Sun**_

"Never hath I been so put out," Galadriel complained as she slogged through a fen 'nigh the east bank of Anduin. "First to be run out of Ost-In-Edhil, thence conveyed with haste 'neath the Hithaeglir, and last held prisoner in a tree. The days grow dark indeed. And now I hath become a fugitive in the wild." She attempted smoothing her hair with one hand, but that merely let the hem of her skirt find the mud. She grimaced and sighed.

"Think thyself not a fugitive, but rather an agent upon a secret mission," Beinvír said as she leapt lightly from stone to stone to avoid the muck, "in service of some noble lord."

At this, Galadriel growled and cast a baleful eye on Celeborn, who was lagging behind and deep in conversation with Helluin. "Noble lord indeed," she muttered.

"Oh come now," Beinvír said, "'tisn't so bad here. Surely thou hast seen worse. Helluin hath related to me the suffering of the Helcaraxe…"

"Mention not that accursed place," Galadriel spat, "o'er 30 years, icebound, shivering, dressed in cloaks made from heirloom tapestries lest we freeze to the marrow, and all the way seething with resentment against the House of Feanor. 'Twas hate and want of vengeance alone as kept us warm."

Beinvír cocked her head and regarded the princess. If anything, she was more mirthless than Helluin and exhibited 'naught of her friend's humor. For an Elf, she seemed to enjoy the natural world little, favoring refinement and comfort, or the artistic and intellectual pursuits. Beinvír had come to suspect that she'd perish in the wild if left on her own, and that thought was appalling to the Green Elf. She couldn't decide if this state was due to her royalty, her Noldorin ancestry, or her long years of dwelling in cities. Beinvír resolved to ask her friend about it. In the meantime, they had passed the waterlogged yards 'nigh the bank and now stood on solid ground. Here they awaited Celeborn and Helluin.

It was now 17 Lothron, (May 17th), and they had been walking for three days, the first two only at night and in strictest secrecy, with some lessening of stealth since this morning's crossing of Anduin. Ere they had left Lórinand, Helluin and Beinvír had spent four nights crafting a raft that they'd hidden amongst the reeds upon Anduin's western shore just north of the mellyrn woods. When they were finally done, they'd guided Celeborn and Galadriel from Lórinand late at night, shrouded in their own cloaks to hide them in the dark so that none marked their passing. Helluin had led them first north through the mellyrn, then into the fields 'nigh where Berlun's cabin had once stood. Of that homestead there was now not a trace; not even the two mounds remained. Helluin had been speaking with Celeborn of the Man and his kin ever since, for the Sinda seemed enthralled by her tale.

"…and so Berlun indeed shifted shape, taking the form of a great bear, and in that form did he slay many Yrch," Helluin was saying as they approached. Celeborn's eyes were lit with wonder.

"And yet thou say he was truly a mortal Man…'tis amazing."

"'Twas just so, and none more amazed than I," Helluin said, "yet I saw his grave and the grave of his wife, and I saw also his children growing up." She had looked around, scanning the margin of the forest and the hither bank both upstream and down. Helluin added in a distracted manner, "We art 'nigh of the homesteads of his people that once stood upon the borders of Greenwood, though if indeed any still live in these lands I know not." It had been over 1,200 years since she had last seen Berlun and his family, and since then, many Yrch had traversed this country.

"Thou hath seen many wonders in thy travels, Helluin, and thy tales make me feel young again," Celeborn said.

A soft look of reflection marked his face as he recalled the long gone years of his youth in the peaceful woods of Neldoreth and Region. Life had been good much of the time while the power of Melian kept Doriath safe and the stars had still been bright. Too soon, it had seemed, duty had constrained him to Menegroth. And then with the sun and the moon there had come war. But also Galadriel had come with her brother Finrod, for Thingol was their great-uncle through their maternal grandfather, Olwe. Now, though the realm of Doriath had fallen and all the treasures of the Noldor were lost, still he had his treasures, his wife, and of her a daughter, Celebrian, and at times also the straining of his sanity from trying to keep them happy.

Over the last few days, Celeborn had realized that he enjoyed being outdoors again and being unconstrained by a ruler's duties. He enjoyed being on a journey, an adventure, and what he hadn't anticipated was that he had actually found himself enjoying Helluin's company. She wasn't the menacing, homicidal maniac he had expected. She wasn't like the other Noldor he knew, nor was she quite like a Sinda or a Nando. She was a curious blend of cultural traits from all of them. Maybe it was the influences of all those she'd met in her travels, or maybe she was simply unconventional. In any case, he found it a pleasant surprise.

They rejoined Beinvír and Galadriel, and the lord stood by his wife. Helluin was still surveying the area, a growing tension sharpening her eyes. Beinvír noted this and came to stand close beside her.

"Trouble?" She whispered. "What doth thou sense?"

Helluin made no reply but continued to scan, paying now the most attention to the forest. From its shadows a few birds were startled up, screeching and taking flight from their nests. Beinvír's eyes widened in alarm.

"Get thee down!" Helluin cried, leaping forward. Celeborn and Galadriel reacted but slowly to her warning, but Beinvír was already unshouldering her bow. Helluin was barely in time to stand before them ere a flight of black-fletched arrows whistled from the trees. They found their mark but rebounded harmlessly off her armor.

Quickly she shucked off her travel bag and then her bow and quiver. Thrusting the latter into Celeborn's hands, she donned her hauberk and doffed her cloak.

"Slay any that approach, my lord. I trust thou hast not forgotten how to shoot?"

For answer, she saw that he had already shouldered the quiver and was stringing her bow. Beside him, Beinvír stood with an arrow already knocked, searching for a target. A few more arrows flew towards them, but these Helluin knocked out of flight with sweeping motions of her sword. Then the enemy broke from cover and charged. A dozen Yrch armed with the rusty, jagged scimitars of their kind. From the woods another half-dozen arrows came, but now both Celeborn and Beinvír had marked their path and returned fire. They continued shooting towards where the arrows had come from and screams amongst the shadows 'neath the trees told of them striking their marks.

Helluin snatched the Sarchram from her waist as she charged to meet the foes on foot and the blue battlefire was kindled in her eyes. Ere she met them, she flung the Grave Wing. It struck the first Orch, cleanly hewing off his head, ricocheted to slash the chest of another, and then struck off the sword arm of a third ere it returned to her. Helluin caught the ring in her left hand and with it parried away the swords of two Yrch attacking her in concert from the front. Then with a great sweeping stroke she hewed both their bodies asunder with Anguirel, sending up a spray of their black blood. She was actually laughing as she lunged and sunk her blade into a third, and then with a sneer, she twisted her body and flung his torso aside off her sword.

"C'mon thou craven, worm-bellied, toadspawn," she taunted the largest of them, an Orch captain with leather scraps sewn to his pate and Man scalps adorning his belt, "thou were but born to die, _snaga_!**¹**"

**¹**(**snaga, _slave._** Black Speech of Sauron)

The Orch gave only a guttural howl in response as he strode forward. He traded three blows with Helluin ere he pitched backward with a shriek. An Elven arrow had taken him in the eye and bowled him over. 'Twas one of her own, she noticed, and it had passed her ear by not even a hand's breadth ere striking its target. _Guess Celeborn can still shoot just fine,_ she thought as she advanced to meet another pair of Yrch.

To her left, another Orch fell with one of Beinvír's arrows in his throat, and then a second died from an arrow fired by Celeborn. Helluin met the two Yrch in mid-stride. The one on her left she struck in the throat with a jab of the Sarchram, while at the same time hewing the neck of the one on her right with Anguirel. Of the last four, two died from the second flight of the Grave Wing, while Beinvír and Celeborn shot another each. She caught her weapon and surveyed the field. Only one foe still moved.

The wounded Orch who was missing his sword arm had fled, staggering back into the forest. He had barely made it 'neath the trees when there was violent movement amidst the branches, a shriek of terror, and a wet, crushing sound. The branches swayed a moment longer and then were still. All was silent save the breathing of the four Elves. Helluin rejoined her companions and drew out a rag to clean her weapons of the Orch blood. She noted the other three staring into the woods and nervously eyeing the trees.

"Huorns," she stated, "or at least one Huorn. They despise the Yrch, and all others upon two legs little less, but perhaps they shalt suffer us to pass. We shalt see."

Her words were not at all reassuring to the others.

To Be Continued


	26. In An Age Before Chapter 26

**In An Age Before – Part 26

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**

At her suggestion, the four sat upon the grass and waited a while. Though it seemed early still, they shared out some bread and cheese for their noon meal, washing it down with a cold, pale wine. Helluin kept an eye on the forest but detected no further movement amongst the trees. The Huorns were paying them no attention; neither advancing out of Greenwood, nor moving about within it. She deemed this a good sign. In the meantime she made small talk for the sake of distracting her companions, complimenting Celeborn on his shooting and telling them that another three days' march lay ahead within the forest. Too soon their meal was finished. A quick glance up at the sun revealed that an hour had passed since the battle. At least she had marked the return of the birds to their roosts amidst the branches.

"'Tis time to be on our way, I deem," Helluin told her companions, knowing their nervousness would only increase the longer they waited idle. Another hour or another day would change the wariness of the trees not at all. To them, such spans of time meant nothing. "Remain thou close together and close to me as well," she advised as she gathered her quiver, and bow.

The others packed up their baggage and rose, and Helluin led them forth toward the woods. Now as they approached Helluin began a song, and this was one she had learned long before in Valinor, written in praise of Yavanna, the Goddess of Growing Things. She sang of the goddess' chant that had first brought the seedlings of Laurelin and Telperion to sprout on the hallowed mound of Ezellohar, the Ever Summer-Green. The melody rose and fell but the tempo was slow and insistent, and it conveyed a sense of upward destiny and a yearning for light and the free air. 'Twas a growing song, oft sung in orchards and fields in the Undying Lands, for to encourage the spirits of the olvar there. As she approached the forest, she noted the subtle harkening of the trees, an almost imperceptible canting of their boughs and a straightening of their leaves.

Now being from Valinor, the words had been set down in Quenya, and this song was unknown to Celeborn and Beinvír. Still, Helluin was surprised when a clear voice joined hers, weaving a harmony that added complexity and fullness to the tune and magnifying its power. The vocal range was somewhat low but the pitch was perfect. Just to confirm what her ears told her, she looked back and saw Galadriel singing, her phrasing flawless, and her voice pure as the notes of a golden harp. Helluin smiled her thanks with her eyes and received a glint of acknowledgement in return. She wouldn't actually have characterized it as a smile, but 'twas a start.

In response to their duet the trees straightened and seemed to stand taller, and they commenced a slight swaying in time with the song. Better still, it seemed the music pacified the spirits of tree and Huorn alike, and this indeed had been Helluin's hope, that by their voices, clear and Elven sweet, they should announce their goodwill to the forest.

After a mile Helluin let her voice trail off. Galadriel questioned her with a glance.

"'Tis about the borders mostly that the Huorns congregate to repel invaders," she explained, "and they hath granted us their leave to pass, else we should not hath come this far unhindered." The others nodded in understanding but couldn't help staring over their shoulders from time to time as they walked.

They were heading almost due east amidst the boles of great trees whose canopy closed o'erhead in a continuous roof of green. Like Fangorn, Greenwood was a mature forest, its trees full grown and spaced in harmony above a carpet of leafmould and mosses. There was very little underbrush to pick through and for the most part their passage was unimpeded. Now they felt the cool stillness and the scent of loam, and the faint rustle of leaves far above. Unlike Fangorn, the way was not so dark or so dense, nor was there the heavy atmosphere of anticipation and tension. The Elves felt less closely watched and much less ill at ease. The almost constant creaking of branch and root that permeated Fangorn was not to be heard; here it seemed the wood was more at peace, more sleepy, and perhaps more content. The "treeishness" that Treebeard had spoken of was diffused, for Greenwood was by far the most extensive forest in the northwest of Middle Earth.

Helluin led them onward through the afternoon and evening, and during that time they saw nothing remarkable. What little wildlife the group encountered was mostly birds, or squirrels that fled up the branches, there to stare down on them in curiosity until they passed. The birds ignored them. When the dimness of nightfall o'ertook them, Helluin directed the group to an outcropping of quartz boulders that had been sifted to the surface by the slow churning action of mighty roots in the soil. The trees constantly stirred and gnawed the substrate, turning up all manners of inedible detritus, much as one spitting forth the seeds or pit of a fruit. Though aforetime Helluin had rested undisturbed wherever she'd liked, she had been alone then and basically ignorant of the peril, and where one might pass as innocent, four together might be deemed a threat. And times were darker now. She would take no unnecessary chances with her companions.

"Must we lie thus upon rocks?" Celeborn asked, more out of curiosity than pique.

"Perhaps and perhaps not," Helluin answered, "but on this first night, I should be ruled by caution. In Fangorn many trees walked at night and by camping amidst stones were we preserved from trampling. Here I hath not witnessed such…restlessness, yet neither hath I seen Huorns at the border aforetime. Perhaps the times hath changed things."

Celeborn and Galadriel looked at her with uncertainty. Her reputation for jest notwithstanding, neither had ever known a forest to go on the move. Helluin shrugged.

"'Tis all too true," Beinvír said, "in Fangorn Forest the trees went about their business in the dark. I think perhaps business is less pressing here, but I shalt rest amidst the rocks tonight just the same." She proceeded to choose a spot and spread a pelt to cushion her repose. Beside her, Helluin set down her bag and weapons ere she found a comfortable niche and lay down on a groundcover made of many cat skins. Eventually, after some grumbling, their guests did likewise.

Many hours later, while darkness still ruled the wood, Galadriel sat bolt upright sensing some disturbance afoot. She nudged Celeborn with an elbow, then shook his shoulder to roust him. After he too sat up, they stared into the darkness trying to pierce its curtains with their Elven sight. Sometime later Beinvír turned and then started up, feeling about on the ground nearby.

"Helluin, she hissed in the Noldo's ear, "Helluin, harken to me; something strange is afoot here 'bouts."

Helluin looked o'er the edge of her sleeping fur with one blue eye, glowing like a close-shrouded lamp. Roused now, she too could feel the activity in the ground beneath them. She passed a hand 'cross the soil and came up with wriggling things.

"'Tis but the roots shifting and driving forth the earthworms," she muttered, "and now they doth surface all 'bout us. Huh. They've not a foot amongst them. Go back to thy rest. They art more upset than we."

Beinvír grimaced at the thought but lay back down, edging closer to her friend in the dark. Nearby, Celeborn and Galadriel were gingerly picking up the night crawlers erupting from the soil beneath them and flinging them thence beyond the rocks. It went on thus for several hours ere the ground finally settled.

Shortly later the sun began to rise at last and the company got up, shaking out stray worms and gathering their bags for their day's march. Galadriel gave Helluin one dirty look, obviously blaming her for the conditions. Celeborn appeared tired and disgusted more than wroth. Beinvír simply shook out her pelt, plucking off a fist-sized snail that she carefully set down amidst the rocks and shooed away. Helluin finger combed her hair, tossed out the couple worms she found entangled there, and seeing the others ready, set out walking east without a word. It had been strange night but there was nothing to be done about it as far as she was concerned.

"Be glad 'twas worms and not spiders," she muttered under her breath somewhat later. The others were trailing behind and had said nothing to her since they started out. 'Twas 'nigh noon and they were three-quarters of the way from Anduin to Laiquadol. Abruptly Helluin stopped and sat down on a large exposed root. "'Tis time for lunch," she announced simply and set about drawing forth foodstuffs from her bag.

Beinvír, accustomed to Helluin's moods, sat on the root beside her and drew forth a wineskin, then searched her bag and set out some small cakes she'd brought from Lórinand. After looking around trying to understand why Helluin had picked this spot, Galadriel and Celeborn joined them. Eventually they too proffered rations and joined in the meal.

"Doth thou anticipate yet another night keeping such close company with the vermin of the wood," Galadriel asked at last after spitting out a prune pit. Helluin sighed.

"I hath no expectations," she said, "and last night was indeed my first such acquaintance with Greenwood's kelvar. They art normally more discrete."

Galadriel shook her head. If not for her overriding desire to reach the enchanted stream she would never hath borne such base accommodations. 'Twas barbaric; akin to what she fancied life amongst the Avari would entail.

When night fell they were but three leagues from Laiquadol, but Helluin decided to camp out, for were Oldbark home, he would most likely be "asleep" ere they arrived. So as not to become more of a nuisance than necessary, she found an outcropping of granite and guided her companions up upon it. The darkness descended, and at first all seemed quiet. The Elves went to their rest, Celeborn and Galadriel in the highest possible spot, Helluin and Beinvír side by side a fathom away in a comfortable depression.

'Twas probably just past midnight when an ominous creaking and a rustling grew all about them in the dark. The activity spread rapidly and involved all the trees for some distance around. It seemed that they were moving their branches together as if lashing at the wind rather than being lashed by it. The Elves lay silently amidst the disturbance, expecting something to happen, but having no idea what. Shortly later they were assailed by an overpowering ammoniacal stench fanned forth by the swishing leaves. Rest was impossible.

"What the…?" Celeborn managed to choke out.

Suddenly a large herd of hairy bodies burst forth from the darkness and literally o'erran their camp at great speed. Scuttling forms on many spindly legs fled over and between them with no regard to their presence. None paused or showed the least interest in them, acting rather as if the Elves were simply part of the landscape to be trampled in the haste of their scrabbling flight. The reek grew well 'nigh unbearable and stuck in their throats. 'Twas a frantic rout, an inexplicable stampeding of creatures by the trees. In the nearly pitch-black forest, the details had been impossible to make out in the confusion.

"Stay down," Helluin whispered to Beinvír, who had rolled o'er and was clasping at her and cringing in alarm. Helluin covered her friend's head as the last of the many frantic feet clattered past. Quite obviously this foul smelling horde was being driven in haste as cattle or sheep to a roundup. Afterwards the nearby trees immediately grew still and silent again, but the disturbance continued on in pursuit where the creatures had fled. The distasteful stench was far slower to dissipate.

"What in Udûn was that?" Galadriel demanded, already on her feet and pacing over. "Hast thy friends here taken to driving their herds by night? And herds of what pray tell? Helluin, hath thou led us hither for thy mirth at our torment?" She asked suspiciously as she stood tapping her foot in irritation.

"No mirth hath I enjoyed, O Princess," Helluin muttered, "for I too hath missed the joke."

Helluin uncurled and released her hold on Beinvír, who sat up in confusion and stared into the woods where the creatures had fled. Helluin too sat up and was about to answer when the rushing of boughs resumed. All ducked down and cast their eyes about in apprehension. This time 'twas a large number of pale sacks being passed from tree to tree, flung and caught and flung again, and slung forcefully from branch to branch following the earlier rush of creatures. This was barely discernable, and only because the branches parted at times to admit errant beams of pale light from Ithil o'erhead. The sacks were accompanied by the musty odor of long accumulated mildew and dust. Soon that too passed away into the distance and silence resumed. Helluin noted errant strands of coarse webbing drifting down and settling on them from the branches above.

"T'would seem the forest hath grown less patient with its tenants of late," she said, "and the trees hath driven forth the spiders of Greenwood, following them with their egg sacks as if they were but so much unwanted baggage. 'Tis very strange."

"Spiders! Spiders? They were big a sows," the princess shouted.

"Nay, truly. I deem most were but the size of kettles or dogs…those sorts of things," Helluin said, hoping to placate her. "'Tis but their legs that make them seem larger. Anyway thou saw that none stayed in their flight. I am sure they were more terrified than we and art by now far away. Pray return to thy rest."

After Galadriel had stomped off and lain down, Beinvír spoke silently to Helluin, asking with uncertainty, _Thou say the forest hath not been agitated thus in the past?_

_Indeed not,_ Helluin replied. They were lying face to face wrapped in their pelts.

_Then whyfore now doth thou think?_

_I hath no idea,_ Helluin admitted, _but perhaps Oldbark shalt enlighten me. He if any shalt know what passes in Greenwood…and I am very curious. Dost thou not think it strange fortune that such should befall us two nights in a row in so vast a place?_

_I do think so and I am indeed suspicious. At least no harm hath befallen us thus far._

Nearby Celeborn and Galadriel lay with their eyes ceaselessly flicking to and fro through the dark, and neither could but wish to hasten the dawn.

When morning eventually arrived, (and Galadriel was certain that it had been somehow delayed), they picked off fallen cob webbing and went their way without even breaking their fast. The princess would stand for no delays.

Beinvír walked alongside Helluin, nibbling in a distracted manner on a stale roll she'd found in the bottom of her bag. Celeborn and Galadriel were walking ahead of them.

"How far thither today, Helluin?" She asked. "Art we close to thy goal?"

"Indeed so," Helluin said, glancing up from habit but unable to see the sun. "I should wager no more than another league at most," she guessed hopefully.

She was worried about how to present her companions to Oldbark and how to phrase Galadriel's request for the water from his enchanted stream. Of course the Onod considered it nothing of the sort, merely wholesome and nourishing water. She was still wondering about it when she noted a familiar presence ahead that Celeborn and Galadriel had just walked right by. She took Beinvír's hand and slowed her pace, catching her eyes and nodding ahead. They were greeted ere she could speak.

"Ohhh-hoooo…the wandering Elfling, come again to visit the old forest," Oldbark said in Sindarin, "I see you have brought company this time, Helluin Maeg-mormenel of the Host of Finwe. What is your friend's name? The hasty version shall do for now," he asked, looking closely at Beinvír who tried to smile back at him despite her nervousness. He twisted around to catch a glimpse of Celeborn and Galadriel who were still walking off, deeply engrossed in their conversation. After squinting at them and shaking his 'head' he asked, "and are the oblivious ones with you as well?"

"Indeed so," Helluin said, 'hastily'. She placed a reassuring hand on Beinvír's back and introduced her to the Onod. "This is Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador, my friend and companion upon the road. The others art Celeborn, son of Galadhon, son of Elmo of Doriath, and Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin, son of Finwe."

"Greetings, Beinvír of the Laiquendi friend and companion on the road of Helluin." He gave the Green Elf a smile ere he continued. "Soooo…a prince and a princess now travel with you, Helluin. It would seem you have come up in the world." Helluin noted a quick flick of his right eyelid that might possibly have been a wink. Her own eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Some 'rumors' I had heard of them from across the river," he revealed, "and yet more tidings from the near bank. The trees there thank you for the song, and so I thought it only proper to do some…umm, housecleaning, in preparation for their arrival."

To his credit, he said all that with a straight face. Helluin groaned and Beinvír giggled.

"So 'twas thee who rousted forth the spiders?" Beinvír asked, still chuckling.

"Yes. Such smelly creatures and so ill-mannered," Oldbark said, "always sniping and backtalking…not at all suitable company for royalty to encounter. Had they presented themselves with their usual comportment it would have reflected badly on Greenwood Forest and I should have been mortified. I did well to disperse them don't you think?"

"I suppose so," Helluin agreed. The spiders had been ever snide in her meetings with them, lying to her and taunting her from the safety of the trees as she walked the forest.

"And so art they now gone thither for good?" Beinvír asked. "And gone whither?"

"They have been encouraged north to join their kin for a time near the Emyn Duir," he said with a cunning grin.

_Driven north into the kingdom of Oropher and Thranduil no doubt,_ Helluin thought, _and I am sure thou shalt soon enjoy word of their aggravation at being thus afflicted_.

"Of course they shall eventually migrate back," Oldbark sighed. "I cannot permanently expel them into other lands, and in truth, I need them in the forest for pest control." At Beinvír's questioning glance he explained, "How else am I to keep the squirrels and other rodents in manageable numbers?" At this she nodded.

Oldbark smiled at Beinvír's understanding. Then he turned to where he had last seen Celeborn and Galadriel and let forth a piercing whistle. Several moments later the couple rejoined them, looking annoyed.

"What now, Helluin?" Celeborn asked.

"Whyfore art thou summoning us hither as dogs to thy whistle? Doth thou regard us now as hounds?" Galadriel asked, fixing her eyes on Helluin. She noted that the Noldo and her companion were standing still a distance away beyond a great tree, regarding it as if in consultation. Their behavior added to her growing store of irritation. "Hath thou tarried 'nigh seeking yet more wisdom from the trees? Honestly, Helluin, hath we not a goal to reach ere another night of frenzy and discomfort fall upon us? Worms, spiders, and now trees. I deem thou art stalling. Enough! Come, we shalt go forth at last to our destination."

"Sincerely do I apologize for the worms, my Lady," Oldbark said, turning to face the couple and presenting his most courtly manner, "for they art but shallow creatures and hath little sense of propriety. Yet what realm is without its dullards, its knaves, and its scoundrels?" Here he sighed and shook his 'head' much as any other harried and put upon monarch, then sketched a stiff bow to the royals. "I am Oldbark, Lord of Calenglad i'dhaer. Rest assured that thy vassals," here he indicated Helluin and Beinvír with a partial nod, "hath lodged suitable complaints about thy…hmmm, treatment."

For a moment Galadriel's expression tightened in disbelief, then she opted for a more gracious mien and gave Oldbark a formal curtsey. Beside her, Celeborn bowed. Helluin tried hard not to roll her eyes at their manners since Oldbark was humoring them by making the more formal his speech. She thanked the Onod silently for trying to absolve her of blame, but she noted that Oldbark had said nothing of the spiders.

"I am sure 'tis but an occurrence of ill providence and casts no reflection upon thy rule, my Lord," Galadriel said graciously, also not mentioning the spiders. "Honored art Prince Celeborn and I to enjoy the peace of thy forest. Long it hast been since last we walked in so great a wood, and longer still since any amongst our peoples hath met with a Lord of the Onodrim."

"Ummm-hmmmm, 'tis so indeed. Long Ages it hast been since any of Finwe's folk save Helluin came hither 'neath the boles," Oldbark agreed. "Of Lord Olwe and Lord Elwe's folk hath some come at whiles, and indeed to the north lies the realm of King Oropher. He was known to thee upon a time, I believe, for he hast mentioned thee both."

"So we hath heard from Lord Amdír of Lórinand yonder 'cross Anduin," Celeborn said, "for at first he had joined Oropher in his realm ere returning to the mellyrn wood. Ere that, he was with us in Eregion, yon Hithaeglir. I hope his realm is at peace."

Oldbark nodded and hummed a wordless approval of the sentiments. The kingdom of Oropher had been well when last he had been 'nigh. He, however, was more curious abut the 'rumors' he had heard from across the river, and in particular about the Lady.

"My Lord," Galadriel said, sensing the Onod's interest in her and hoping the tidings of her behavior in Lórinand had not come to him enlarged by gossip and grown to mythic proportions in the telling. "Helluin hath provided some tidings of thy realm, and there is a matter about which I would seek thy counsel…"

"Indeed there is a matter in which I should seek thine, and I am thankful to Helluin for her timely conveyance of thee hither," Oldbark countered. He looked at Galadriel carefully, actually making her feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Being her host, however, Galadriel tipped her head bidding him continue. "I hope thou can aid me, for it seems an affliction hath come upon my home. Laiquadol is stricken with baldness."

For several moments the Elves were silent in confusion. The Onod turned east, gesturing with a sweep of his 'arm' so that the boughs there obediently parted enough to reveal a vista of a tall, partially barren hill. The company was little more than a mile away from it now.

"Something is causing to die all that grows upon the height above my halls," Oldbark said sadly, "leaving so far all else untouched. It saddens me to see it blighted thus." He turned back to Galadriel and the branches shifted back into place, closing the window on stricken Laiquadol. "I sense you possess a power, my Lady, which might offer some remedy."

Now Helluin thought this farfetched at best. Galadriel had shown herself the least adapted to life in the forest and was most adapted to the city. Wherefore should she be able to cure the mange of the wood? Nevertheless, she held her peace and listened. The princess was seriously considering Oldbark's request; her focus turned within as if assessing her potential strength.

"Lead me thither, my Lord, and I shalt do what I can," Galadriel told the Onod. There was determination in her voice, Helluin noted. It seemed that she at least believed that she could do some good. The group turned to make their way to Oldbark's halls.

To Be Continued


	27. In An Age Before Chapter 27

**In An Age Before – Part 27

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**

Upon their arrival the group immediately ascended the hill.

"When did this come to pass?" Helluin asked Oldbark as she examined the dried or wilting flora atop Laiquadol. The Onod had led the four Elves thither and now they stood at the high hill's crown amidst snags and dying trunks. Downslope the devastation trailed off and it seem thus far only the topmost area was affected. O'erhead Anor shone strong and bright, standing 'nigh the zenith, nearly noon.

"In the last decade mostly," he told her, "well 'nigh in the blink of an eye it seemed. Some blight I deem it, borne on a pestilential wind from the south."

_A stench of Mordor perhaps,_ Helluin wondered, _could Sauron be assailing Greenwood?_

Behind them, Galadriel was turning in a circle and staring about while clutching compulsively at the pendant that hung around her neck. She had been doing naught else since arriving. Oldbark had looked at her hopefully, watching as she gingerly laid her hands on a blighted trunk.

_'Tis long dead and far gone,_ Helluin thought as she watched, _good for naught but firewood._ But then she noticed a faint greenish glow surrounding Galadriel's hands and it brought back a distant memory. That pendant had seemed familiar when she'd first seen it, back when the princess had rounded on her in the talan in Lórinand where she and Celeborn had been imprisoned. Now Helluin realized why.

Well 'nigh 1,500 years before she had seen one similar, clasped about the neck of Idril Celebrindal in Gondolin. Turgon's daughter had worn a green gem possessed of the virtue to preserve and heal. To gaze through it gifted one with visions of life unfaded, and it had endowed her with a healing touch. _The Elessar_; that had been its name! But when had she last seen it? Helluin tried to remember. She had spent so many years in the delta and the lands outside Avernien, ceaselessly on guard against spies and enemies. Only infrequently had she spent time in the settlement and more rarely yet had she passed time with Tuor and Idril. Idril had not been wearing it as she sat with Tuor ere Helluin had taken her leave of them and journeyed to Vinyamar. Indeed by then it had been years since she had seen it. Whither had it gone? She filed the questions away for another time.

By now the greenish glow had spread all o'er the dead trunk, while Galadriel's face showed deep concentration. Incredibly, a hint of color had suffused the shivered bark and the exposed wood had lost its ghostly greyish cast. The dried trunk seemed to swell subtly, as if sap now flowed within. The effect quickened and healthy bark spread to enshroud the heartwood as the glow of green intensified. At the tips of shriveled branches, points of new growth developed; the precursors of buds and eventually leaves. Everyone was amazed. The Onod nudged Helluin and offered her a smile.

"She has certainly lived up to the rumors," he whispered. "I cannot thank you enough."

_What rumors?_ Helluin wondered. _I had heard naught but of her mania ere we set out. Huh. I suppose all is well that end'th well, but I wonder wherefrom comes his news._

Galadriel's spiritual healing proceeded through the afternoon, but when the sun dipped to the Hithaeglir she ceased.

"I hath need of Anor's healing light, else naught shalt come of my efforts." She looked around measuring her progress against what remained to be done, nodding to herself. "I shalt continue on the morrow and thou should find thy home restored ere evening."

"'Tis magnificent, my Lady!" Oldbark exclaimed. If an Onod were capable of dancing he was close to doing so. "I am in thy debt. Allow me to offer thee and thy company my hospitality this night."

Galadriel looked at him carefully and with some uncertainty. "Is thy hall free of spiders?" She asked.

"I am sure of it. Indeed it seems all the spiders hath removed north…a migration of sorts, I suppose," he said innocently. "'Tis their nature perhaps. Who truly knows what doth lurk in a spider's heart." He gave the equivalent of a shrug.

Galadriel nodded, accepting his assurances, and the company made their way downhill to Oldbark's hall. Indeed their rest was untroubled that night…by vermin.

Some hours after Oldbark had planted himself with one foot in the stream, Helluin was roused by a hand shaking her shoulder. Half enmeshed in a pleasant memory for once, and expecting that it was Beinvír, (who had taken to engaging Helluin more often at night as the events of their travels became more bizarre), Helluin merely wrapped an arm around the person and pulled them close. She was treated to a hiss in her ear.

"Psssst! Helluin! 'Tis I, Galadriel! Get off me!"

Helluin started up abruptly and sat staring at the princess, who had extracted herself and was smoothing her hair. She managed a, "Huh?"

"Be that the stream enchanted of which thou spoke?" Galadriel whispered urgently. She was pointing to the freshet in which Oldbark was standing. With a groan, Helluin nodded and lay back down hoping to recapture the memory from which she had been so abruptly dragged. Beside her Beinvír lay quiet. Nearby, Celeborn was motionless. Helluin shook her head. Galadriel was already crawling stealthily towards the water.

The next morning, Helluin noted that the princess was surreptitiously trying to compare their relative heights. If there was a change in Galadriel's stature, Helluin couldn't discern it. The princess was unchanged save for a subtle puffiness about her cheeks and eyes. Later, after breaking their fast, they resumed the mending of the blight upon Laiquadol. It seemed to Helluin that during the first hours, Galadriel was taking more frequent breaks than she was normally wont to do. By evening, as expected, the hill was again green with living plants. It was little short of a miracle and Oldbark was ecstatic.

"Whatsoever I might do to repay thee, thou hast but to ask," the Onod told the princess.

'Twas obvious to Helluin that Galadriel could barely contain herself when she heard his words. She immediately broached the topic of the enchanted stream. Oldbark nodded.

"The stream thou seek indeed runs though my hall, but the virtue thou crave hast gone out of it of late with the failing of the life upon Laiquadol," he explained. The fall in Galadriel's face was well 'nigh comical, but Helluin dared not laugh. "Now perhaps it shalt resume as thou hath rejuvenated the olvar with thy Elven magic," he said hopefully. "We shalt see. I should suggest thou drink, and if the virtue is indeed restored, then thy stature shalt increase much as did Helluin's aforetime."

Galadriel looked at Helluin by reflex and the dark Noldo could but shrug and look away. 'Twas 'naught that she could do and she'd had no idea that the stream had been affected. Later, as Galadriel sat beside the stream, filling and quaffing cup after cup of water, Helluin came to her and sat down. For several moments she chewed her lip and formed her questions.

"Whence came thy Elessar, Princess? Is it indeed that same as was borne aforetime by Idril of Gondolin?"

Galadriel swallowed yet another mouthful of water and groaned. She felt bloated but anything would be worthwhile if she could but exceed Helluin again in height. Somehow the quest had taken on inertia in the doing, and even she could see the obsessive nature it had visited upon her. Galadriel shook her head in irritation. She felt no different.

"Nay, 'tis not the same. Elrond hath claimed that the Elessar of _Enerdhil_**¹** was passed from Idril to Earendil ere she and Tuor took ship upon Earrame into the West. I am surprised thou know this not, Helluin."

**¹**(**Enerdhil,** renowned jewel-smith of Gondolin. UT, Pt 2, Ch IV AHoCaG, pgs 248-9).

"I but recently remembered it at all, having seen it but infrequently even in Gondolin. In Avernien I was mostly keeping a guard upriver and in the lands about Sirion, and spent but little time in Tuor and Idril's company. I was far away when last Earendil sailed."

A sadness came upon Helluin at the memories of the sack. So many had died and no few by her hand, and all for the fulfillment of that vain and wretched oath. She was glad enough to hath accomplished Ulmo's bidding, but still the memories were bitter.

Galadriel looked at her bowed head and thought back to what Elrond had said of that attack by the sons of Feanor. Of the rampaging Noldo with blue fire flaring in her eyes, bearing a black sword against which no foe could stand. Amrod and Amras had become mighty hunters in Beleriand, twins given to fighting side by side in battle, and yet Helluin had slain them as if they were children. Much like the sons of Feanor, Helluin had the blood of the Eldar on her hands, yet she too had failed of her quest. She had not stayed the Sack of Avernien nor saved the children of Tuor and Idril. Much else than the disposition of the Elessar had occupied her thought in those days. The perception of Helluin's melancholy movedGaladriel to pity and sorrows of her own.

"The gem I bear came of Celebrimbor," Galadriel said softly. "He wrought it with great effort to fulfill a whim I had mentioned but in passing. Never did I think he had taken the desire hidden in my heart as a command to his. I had but aired my sorrow o'er the fading of beauty in Mortal Lands, and he spent more than twenty years recreating a work long lost to the Noldor. It hath much the same virtue as Enerdhil's gem. Celebrimbor finished it but shortly ere the Gwaith-I-Mirdain seized control of Eregion. He presented it to me as a token of his heart at our last parting, beside the very door he had wrought with Narvi for Khazad-dum. Helluin, I fear greatly for him. He had become dear to me as I would never hath thought possible. He hath the craft, but not the flaws of his forebears."

"I too fear greatly for him," Helluin said, "and I fear the treachery of Sauron, and his mastery. Twice now he hath come to me disguised, and neither time hath I marked him. I feel he shalt corrupt Celebrimbor in the end. He is too persuasive a foe. Celebrimbor desires to advance his craft and thus gives the Master of Lies an entry into his heart. And in creating the Elessar, hath not Celebrimbor already partaken of the path upon which Sauron sought to lead us? By doing thus, freely and for love, hast he not made easier the crossing of that line to his heart?"

Helluin paused and Galadriel watched her carefully. During all their years together they had seldom actually talked thus, and more seldom still, agreed. Celebrimbor was in peril from the love in his heart and the talent in his hands, notsome darkness within his soul. But Helluin had claimed to hath twice encountered Sauron…that she knew of. Why had he sought her? What had he wanted? How had she escaped him?

"Whither did Gorthaur the Cruel find thee?"

"First in Ost-In-Edhil, on the day I came thither; indeed not an hour after I left thee. He appeared as a guildsman and we drank wine in a tavern. He asked after the Sarchram. The second time was not a month past, in Fangorn, where he wore the guise of an Onod."

Incredible! Galadriel had never once seen him in Eregion despite all the years he had hidden amongst her people. Her eyes slid down and for a moment lit upon the weapon at Helluin's side. She had seen it aforetime but had never paid it much attention. Now she read the cirth and shuddered.

Helluin had engraved a fell sorcery upon the Sarchram, not to merely slay an enemy or bring victory, but to damn the spirits of her vanquished to the Eternal Night. Galadriel shivered. To come not thence to the Halls of Mandos after the hroa failed, but to be forever trapped, a fëa naked in the Void. It was equivalent to a mortal grinding the bodies of their fallen foes to paste so that the eternal rest of a pyre or tomb lay beyond hope. In her heart, the daughter of Finarfin felt a chill of foreboding. Such virulent and unamendable hatred would be very attractive to one who reveled in darkness. And Sauron had twice sought her out. Galadriel had heard tales of the wars of Beleriand and Helluin's conduct in them; her unquenchable bloodlust, her unremitting frenzies of slaying, and the maniacal laughter that had accompanied her screams of, _'Kill 'Em All!'_

Galadriel would indeed have questioned Helluin further, but the bulk of water she had been drinking made felt its presence with urgency. She was required to excuse herself.

Helluin sat silently, feeling the approach of a brooding mood. Celebrimbor had taken his first step on the road to fighting off the stain of Mortal Lands, the very goal Sauron had suggested all those years ago, and he had done it to please his princess. And now Galadriel had just been staring at the Sarchram cirth…paying them every bit as much attention as had Sauron. All this atop her memories of Avernien; it left her feeling like singing a maudlin song. _I hath to get out of here_, she thought by reflex, _there's no more to be done hither._ That night the company's rest was disrupted by the flight of the millipedes.

Helluin was rousted from an unwelcome memory of her journey through Ossiriand in the company of Maedhros and Maglor. The brothers were depressed by the failure of their attack, the weight of the curse, and the impossibility of satisfying their oath. Elrond and Elros were despondent o'er the destruction of their homeland and the slaughter of their people. She herself was worried, nervously anticipating the appearance of the Laiquendi. In all it was a mirthless and demoralized company that went forward, missing friends lost at Avernien, many of whom she had slain herself.

As usual it was Beinvír who had crawled over and wrapped her arms about Helluin, shaking her and relentlessly whispering in her ear, "Helluin, Helluin, harken to me. Something strange goes forth; the ground moves!" Her eyes were wide with alarm.

With a groan, the dark Noldo raised her head past her friend's hair and looked about in the dimness 'neath the trees. Sure enough, the ground about them was become a moving carpet of tubelike bodies, armored and segmented, the largest close in size to her lower leg. They advanced slowly by wavelike motions of their myriad, short, hairlike legs, but at a steady pace and all in the same direction, none tarrying, and paying them no mind.

"'Tis but a migration of millipedes, Beinvír," Helluin muttered in amazement. 'Twas rare to see even one of their kind. She realized that they were coming down from Laiquadol and making for the forest through Oldbark's hall, as therein lay the only path. "They sup on rotten wood and the like and art harmless. I suppose they flee starvation now that the olvar upon Laiquadol art restored. Huh. Pay them no mind."

"Pay them no mind?" Beinvír whispered incredulously. She crawled up until she lay full length atop Helluin, ensuring that she was completely off the ground as the creatures passed by. 'Twas much the same reflex as rules one drowning when they attempt to climb up the body of a rescuer and rise into the air. Where Fangorn had been threatening, Greenwood was simply bizarre. "We hath to get out of this forest," she hissed, "'tis too uneasy and too alive, and…and too strange."

Moments later Galadriel was up, mercilessly shaking Celeborn and dragging their belongings to and fro seeking a place unupholstered by the carpet of crawling animals. She was muttering in disgust and irritation while Celeborn pleaded with her to be calm. The invasion lasted a couple hours and then trailed off to a trickle of smaller stragglers. Long ere morning all had returned to normal.

Oldbark greeted them cheerfully after stretching and shaking his branches to greet the morning light. Galadriel immediately set upon him, still aggravated by the night wanderings of his kelvar.

"My Lord, though I seek not to seem ungrateful of thy hospitality, I must protest. Our repose was sorely disrupted by the flight of thy creatures…millipedes they were, and many, crawling o'er us in a horde of such proportions that I am still aghast. 'Twas quite unseemly and disconcerting, to be roused thus and o'errun as if we were but so much leafmould or mulch!"

Oldbark appeared suitably mortified. Indeed he looked carefully around all the ground nearby and then both up the path and out the hall into the forest. Last he returned an apologetic gaze to the princess.

"I am sorely embarrassed and indeed vexed, my Lady. I had nary a suspicion that such would come to pass, I swear. I humbly beg thy pardon on behalf of the subjects of the woodland; millipedes art, as thou may know, simple scavengers and little more than mouths afoot. They hath scant sense of genteel manners or the proper modes of conduct. Indeed they art given at whiles to such moronic, herding behavior, oft thinking perhaps that many making the same mistake doth make the action right. They art kelvar, my Lady, yet of such simple grade as to be somewhat unfathomable…at least to me. Still they art necessary for the management of a forest, removing litter ere it become intolerable. Again, my Lady, I humbly apologize for thy inconvenience and suffering. I shalt speak to them and convey thy displeasure, but I doubt it shalt elevate their comportment."

"Very well," Galadriel said, seemingly placated for the time being, "I can only imagine the overbearing nature of thy duties here…so many beings of such various kinds to organize and o'ersee. I thank thee for thy concern and attention." She shook her head sympathetically and wandered to the stream with her cup.

Helluin caught the Onod's eye and with a cant of her head indicated that she desired to speak with him outside the hall. He nodded to her and walked out, followed closely by Helluin and Beinvír. Once outside, they took counsel.

"I think the time hath come for our departure," Helluin said. "I feel I hath accomplished my intent in conveying hence Galadriel and Celeborn. I am glad of the restoration of thy home, but I find viewing the princess' hydrophilia tiresome."

"'Twas not the spiders then, or the worms, or the millipedes that have driven you forth?" He asked just to be sure. "Such things are not common occurrences as you know."

"Bah!" Helluin dismissed with a wave of her hand, "I hath tarried in Greenwood long enough to suspect such was merely a welcome of sorts. I shalt no doubt return someday when it hast worn out." She examined Oldbark with an eyebrow raised in knowing calculation. "Feel free to extend such welcome to thy guests as thou see fit. I am sure they shalt tarry 'til either thy stream provides its virtue or Galadriel burst."

The Onod chuckled but admitted naught to evidence such a perverse sense of humor.

"I wish you both well upon your journeys," he said, offering them a warm smile. "Return at your leisure, either of you, and enjoy then unmolested the forest." He turned to reenter his hall, but then stopped and faced them again, a serious look upon his face. "Helluin, beware of Morgoth's little slave. He takes not an interest in one without cause. I am sure you know this, but I worry for you, Elfling, I do. The two of you must watch out for each other. I feel that soon the times will darken as they have not in an Age. Fare well upon the road." And with those words he strode back into his hall.

To Be Continued


	28. In An Age Before Chapter 28

**In An Age Before - Part 28

* * *

**

**Chapter Twenty-two**

_**Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

"'Tis the same as last year and all the years ere that," Beinvír said sadly as she looked down the steep face of the downs at a small, empty field.

The falls sang brightly in the early morning light and the Withywindle sparkled as it ran off into the forest. Again they had come, and again no trace of the house of Iarwain Ben-adar could they see. It was 23 Ivanneth, (September 23rd), S.A. 1601; 340 years to the day since Helluin and Beinvír had met, and 340 years to the day since they had last entered the house of Iarwain and Maldiaving. Most years they had returned on this day if possible and there beside the waterfall they camped the night, for the Green Elf had never given up on her company and her king. Helluin humored her to the best of her ability despite her uneasiness near that place, and though they had indeed missed many years including the year before, the dark Noldo had come to doubt if Dálindir, Celegaras, and Gérorn would ever reappear. They had walked in strange company and had gone, (so she deemed), forever beyond the world.

Today Helluin was edgier than ever. Indeed since mid-year she had been afflicted with a dark foreboding, from no source she could identify save as an anniversary of worse recently past. On the night of the solstice of summer the year before, Helluin had bolted upright at the very moment of dawn, feeling as if she were being picked apart with needles. Something had felt as if it was stinging every inch of her skin, flaying her slowly, and then burrowing beneath. At first she had suspected homicidally aggressive ants. Even from the first moment she had resisted. By noon the onslaught had reduced to a level she could barely endure, but it hadn't diminished further for o'er a week. She had been miserable, snappish, and had wanted to fling the Sarchram at anything that moved. Her anger had been hair-trigger and directed blindly at whatever was discomforting her. Much of the time her eyes had been blazing.

Even after the torment abated she had felt edgy and nervous, and at times as if she were being watched by a hostile presence. She despised that intensely and closed her mind tight as a green mallorn nut, surrounding it thence with a virulent hatred for her unknown malefactor. It had been like fighting a pitched battle, but slowly those sensations too had faded, leaving her in grave doubt, uncertain and worried about what the next day would bring. It was as if she had driven off a host that now lurked 'nigh in the surrounding woods, invisible but threatening. Her nervousness had persisted all through the following year. A good measure of it was with her still, a year and a season later.

"_Non nienorui, meldis nin_**¹**," Helluin said softly as she wrapped a comforting arm about Beinvír's shoulders, "perhaps it shalt be different next year."

**¹**("**Non nienorui, meldis nin", **_**"I am sorry **(_lit._ sorrowful) **my **(female) **friend"**_, Sindarin)

The Green Elf wrapped her arms around Helluin's waist and leaned against her to ease her disappointment. "Perhaps the night shalt reveal it this time," she said hopefully.

They started down the path from the downs, Helluin hating the yearly dashing of her friend's hopes, feeling helpless as she watched Beinvír clinging to the possibility of her friends' reemergence into the sunlight. _She shalt never give up,_ Helluin thought,_ and she did not give up on me for all how foul my company hast been this year past. She stuck by me as I fought an enemy I still hath not seen. Never hast I known one so loyal, and greatly do I love her for it. _

Despite her horror and alarm, Beinvír had remained at Helluin's side throughout the days and nights when the Noldo had been in anguish, barely able to contain her rage, and possessed of the certainty that someone or something was trying to command her will by usurping the power in the Sarchram. The Green Elf had refused to leave when, in a lucid moment, Helluin had warned her that she was close to losing control of her violence completely and falling down into darkness. Beinvír had listened to Helluin ranting hour after hour, likening the attack to unseen hands relentlessly jerking the weapon from her spiritual grasp so it could become an avenue to her fëa and a yoke to constrain her. Helluin had fought back of course, and because she was already linked to the Grave Wing, she had finally wrenched it again solely to her own will. Thereafter she had sealed herself to all external powers, encircling her spirit with a blinding wall of light and fire. Ere the defense stabilized, Helluin's body had radiated, blazing as it had once done 'neath the Two Trees in Aman, scorching her bedroll of dog skins and actually kindling grass fires 'nigh where she lay in their campsite.

Beinvír had been shocked at the display and horrified by the absolute conviction of Helluin's beliefs. Such an assault could come from only one being she could imagine, but never had she heard of him having such powers. She was still terrified for her friend. Sauron had already shown his interest in her and now he had tried to enthrall her fëa through the weapon Helluin had empowered. Yet when she'd voiced her suspicions, Helluin hadn't believed her. They had been two hundred leagues and more from Eregion; surely he couldn't reach so far and with such force. No tale spoke of such an attack. Not in all the years of war during the First Age had such a spell been known. Helluin was convinced it was the work of a lesser sorcerer much closer to hand, and her belief had been strengthened when no further attacks materialized, for Sauron was relentless. She had become relentlessly vigilant about their surroundings and deeply suspicious of any strangers ever since. After o'er a year she remained so still. For Beinvír as well as Helluin, S.A. 1600 had been a bad year; and 1601 but slightly better.

Tonight their campsite was the same one they had used so many times before; a large willow sheltering a small space 'nigh the Withywindle, just downstream from the falls. From there they could keep watch on any approach, whether from the forest, the downs, or the borders of the narrow corridor between. And they had an unobstructed view of the site where Iarwain's house had once stood. They wiled away the afternoon, Beinvír playing a slow tune on a carved flute, Helluin ceaselessly flicking her eyes to check any possible avenue of approach. Eventually Anor sank 'neath the forest canopy and dusk settled. Helluin started a hunter's fire in the same small, shallow pit they'd used two years before. Beinvír crafted a stew from the provisions they'd brought. The sky darkened and night fell about them like a deep cloak of soot, while overhead the stars shone, brilliant, unblinking, and undimmed by Ithil's light. Earendil was nowhere to be seen. Helluin freed her weapons. It had been first quarter the night before, but now the moon was absent.

Not thirty yards away the phantom house shimmered into existence like the ripples spreading on a placid brook. 'Twas as though a reflection of the world had shivered as something from behind forced its way in. Ere a few moments passed the effect was complete. The house of Iarwain Ben-Adar stood, solid as the land beneath it, windows glowing with warm golden light. For many heartbeats, Helluin and Beinvír watched, petrified in amazement. Then Beinvír was running forward towards the door.

"No, wait!" Helluin screamed as she found her feet and sped across the rolling lawn after her friend. She was terrified for the Green Elf. Imagining her falling into Iarwain's clutches brought her heart to her throat. She had been suspicious of him for centuries, but after the recent attack, her increased distrust kindled her to panic. Now she was frantic. Beinvír had followed her about the land all too much like her younger brother, Verinno, and Helluin would never forgive herself if a similar end befell another that had loved and trusted her. She hardly noticed the pair of rabbits scampering toward the house ahead of her.

Beinvír made it to the doorstep a stride ahead of Helluin, but the dark Noldo flung herself forward and tackled the Green Elf ere she reached the threshold. She had wrapped both arms tightly around her friend's legs to immobilize her. For a moment neither moved. And then the door swung open.

Maldiaving stood on the threshold and she was unchanged in every respect from the image of her in their memories. Her slender figure moved gracefully and her baby doll face was surrounded by a backlit halo of wavy, golden hair. She looked right past the prone bodies of the two Elves and made a beckoning gesture. The rabbits hopped up to her, passing right by Helluin and Beinvír, and obediently lying down side by side in front of Goldberry. She smiled at the coneys and then stepped into their backs! They became her slippers, just as Helluin had suspected. A small flow of water accompanied a squishing sound to create a puddle at her feet. Not an arm's length in front of their faces, the sight chilled them both to the bone. The Riv-er Daughter looked deeply into the night but paid no attention to Helluin and Beinvír though they lay sprawled at her feet. Indeed it was obvious that she couldn't see them! They stared at her in shock.

Then Iarwain appeared behind his beloved, filling the doorframe and blocking the light. From their point of view, his bright yellow boots and stumpy legs looked even thicker and more grossly out of proportion than they recalled. Whereas before he had appeared comical, now he seemed monstrous. He looked down, casting bright blue eyes upon them and smiling when he noticed his two guests lying on the ground, but he said nothing to them. Instead, he ushered Maldiaving back inside with a hand laid gently on her elbow. The door closed, leaving Helluin and Beinvír in the dark.

"Let me go!" Beinvír screamed.

"No! Something's wrong…indeed, everything's wrong!"

Helluin struggled to control her friend's legs as the Green Elf kicked and thrashed to get free. With great effort, she managed to drag Beinvír backward along the ground until they were a fathom from the house. Then she crawled up and covered the Green Elf with her body, effectively pinning her in place.

"They should hath seen and greeted us, even were they not to make us welcome this night," Helluin hissed, trying desperately to reason with her, "rather, Maldiaving saw us not, and Iarwain ignored us. We art not welcome here."

"I won't leave until I hath at least seen my friends," Beinvír said stubbornly, "I shan't!"

"Then through the windows we shalt examine the view," Helluin told her firmly, "but I shalt not allow thee to enter. 'Tis perilous; Iarwain is perilous, and I greatly fear for thee. I fear that should thou enter, then like thy friends thou shalt never leave, and I…I could not bear it."

At this, Beinvír's eyes widened. The dark Noldo seldom proclaimed the depth of her concern though the Green Elf felt it always nowadays. Very disturbing was the realization that Helluin had never believed her friends would be free. Beinvír finally understood why Helluin had been so nervous coming hither every year. Her friend deemed the house a death trap.

When Helluin had finally gotten Beinvír's word that she would look carefully first, they rose and moved to the windows along the front of the house. These looked in on the main room; the dining area to the left of the door, the hearth and sitting area to the right.

At first what they saw seemed reassuring. Seated around the dining table were Iarwain, Goldberry, Dálindir, Celegaras, Gérorn, and two others whom they didn't know, a young Dwarf of Nogrod, judging by his attire, and a barely civilized Man. The company was merry, sharing a bountiful feast in good humor, with much banter and many jests. But as they watched they realized that though all appeared to eat, none actually did so. Nor did they drink. 'Twas all a mimicry, a miming of behavior well known, but shorn of its actual execution and perhaps its need. And their friends were clothed exactly as they had been on that night 340 years before. Then Helluin looked down and noticed that rather than wearing comical slippers, each of the guests sat with their feet immersed in a bucket of water! She pointed this out to Beinvír and the Green Elf froze. Then she started shaking. Without bloodshed or violence the scene had taken on the most profound horror. Like Goldberry, Iarwain had animated his 'friends' and retained their company.

"They art not really alive, are they?" Beinvír asked in a hollow voice.

Helluin could only take the shuddering _elleth_**¹** in her arms and hug her close, resting her chin atop her hair. She stroked her back and kissed the top of her head.

**¹**(**elleth, **sing.generic term for a female Elf. Sindarin)

"I do not believe so, no," she said softly. "I do not think they hath lived in a very long time. None hath dwelt in Nogrod during this Age, and yet the Dwarf is young. A millennium and more hath passed since he came hither, I wager. And look thou at the Man's raiment…'tis like something from a tale of the Elder Days ere the Edain came to Beleriand and learnt the craft of weaving cloth."

Indeed the Man was dressed entirely in hides and skins. He wore no work of metals, only a woven bracelet of leather, and his face had never known the touch of a razor. Beinvír nodded through her tears, accepting the evidence she saw before her eyes.

"I am sorry," Helluin whispered, knowing the words would provide no solace.

Inside the dining room the meal concluded. Maldiaving moved to clear the table and the rest stood and thanked her. She disappeared repeatedly into the kitchen area, bearing away the still full platters of food and pitchers of drink. In the main room, the company took their seats before the fire, bringing their buckets with them as one would tankards or goblets. Shortly thereafter Goldberry came to bid them goodnight ere she retired. And finally as they watched, Iarwain entertained his 'guests' with tales and lore, finally putting them to sleep.

To Helluin and Beinvír, who stood outside the window watching, the whole evening seemed to take but a little while. Indeed 'twas hard to tell the passing of time, for the stars moved not in the sky and no moon made its way thither on its course. All seemed timeless and suspended. Finally they turned to leave.

They had walked but a few paces away when the door opened and Iarwain stood upon the threshold. He surveyed the night and then looked directly at the two Elves, seeing them again and finally acknowledging their presence. Then he sang them chilling words to a happy tune and both found the performance grotesque.

_**Tippy-tee-tine, thy friends are mine,**_

_They stay, hey, hey, they stay to dine._

_With Tom and Goldberry beside the falls,_

_Ever sup-a-lup-luping in Bombadil's halls._

_**From un-dun-der the sun and un-dun-der the moon,**_

_To join-oin me, tra-la, in my merriest tune._

_Hey never to fly, hey-yay, and never to die,_

_As all-lal-lal-lall of the Ages pass by._

_**But 'tis not so mould-oldy-old cold,**_

_My steal-a-weal-ing away thus their souls,_

_For they-hey came hence to me freely 'tis true,_

_Not like the attack-ack-ack-ack by the Werelord on you._

_**So go now your way to your parts in the play,**_

_To the fell-dell-dell derry-o deeds of the day._

_The call of war sings, yo, on bloody black wings,_

_A-timber-a-tinder o'er Celebrimbor's Three Rings._

Most of it was gibberish save the confirmation of their fears for their friends' fates. Helluin deemed it a taunt, and despite her belief in the danger, she drew her weapons and moved to advance on the strange character who called himself Tom Bombadil.

Iarwain let forth a deep, rolling belch, but whether it was a farewell or a command the Elves had no idea. In the next moment, Iarwain and his ghostly house shimmered and vanished from the world. O'erhead the stars twinkled and the moon was revealed, half shy of full, just rising above the forest. 'Twas early in the night still, as if but an hour had passed since all had first appeared. That night for the first time, Helluin and Beinvír removed from the falls and made a new camp upon the downs. Helluin wrapped Beinvír in her arms and tenderly held her in the dark as she cried her broken heart out.

There a messenger from Lindon found them the next morning. He walked to their camp and hailed them formally upon sight, producing also a scroll bearing the royal seal.

**To Be Continued**

6


	29. In An Age Before Chapter 29

**In An Age Before – Part 29

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**

"Helluin Maeg-mormenel, thou art summoned to Lindon by the authority of Ereinion son of Fingon who doth seek thy counsel. Thou art not at liberty to refuse thy king, for his need is great. If thy companion be Beinvír of the Laiquendi, than she too is summoned, though without word of command. I am to lead thee thither."

With a groan Helluin nodded and began stamping out the fire. She and Beinvír quickly packed their bags and followed the messenger south, noting that he made directly for the southern road and avoided the forest. They traveled only a few miles before finding a passage out of the downs and they came thence to flat land. There awaited a company of a dozen Noldor on horseback bearing the livery of the High King, and with them were two horses without riders. Their messenger mounted one and gestured the two friends to the other. Helluin grimaced and mounted, then reached down and hauled Beinvír up behind her. _'Tis probably 500 years since last I rode,_ she thought,_ and then but briefly. What haste hath seized Gil-galad that he requires us now to ride? Art the words of Iarwain's silly staves to come crashing down upon us so soon?_

Indeed it appeared just so, for the company set out at a canter and slowed their pace for naught but the horses. 'Twas 115 leagues to Harlond and another 45 by boat to Forlond. On 3 Narbeleth, (October 3rd), the company passed the walls of Lindon after a journey of but nine days, and they came to the court of the king.

Helluin was keeping a concerned eye on her friend as she walked for the first time in these surroundings so strange to her. The Noldo had come to easily recognize the wide-eyed looks of amazement that accompanied the deep uncertainty and wariness of cities that was characteristic of the Laiquendi. Now Beinvír was staring at everything, her eyes flitting back and forth o'er tapestries and ornaments, carvings and paintings, and the inhabitants of the court. All the rich furnishings seemed strange even to Helluin's eyes when she saw them with awareness of Beinvír's astonished gaze. She took everything in, noting what had changed and what had remained the same. At the entrance to the king's chambers a herald smote upon the carved doors. When a chamberlain opened these from within, the herald announced the guests.

"Here come'th in answer of thy summons, thy vassal, Helluin Maeg-mormenel, and with her, Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador." He bowed them in with a sweeping gesture so effeminate as to be comical. Helluin rolled her eyes and Beinvír stifled a giggle.

The room was not large, but 'twas richly appointed as a study with bookcases about the walls, a finely carved desk, a meeting table, and a grouping of couches and chairs. Gil-galad was seated at his desk, while in chairs before him sat Galdor, Elrond, Cirdan, and surprisingly, Celebrimbor. Helluin's eyes widened at the sight of him and Beinvír greeted him with a smile, for to her, his was the only familiar face. He smiled in return, obviously happy to see them well, and rose in greeting. And then Helluin received another shock. Celebrimbor was not only slightly taller than he had been aforetime, but appeared stronger, and if possible, younger as well. Helluin compared him with her memories and confirmed her impression. He was changed; now more fair and more vigorous than she remembered.

He clasped Beinvír and Helluin in hugs of welcome, then resumed his seat, mildly embarrassed for having acted before his king had even spoken. Gil-galad seemed to understand and merely nodded to him to ease his discomfort at his display.

"Helluin, welcome again to Lindon. Beinvír, welcome at last. Please be seated," the king said informally, wasting no time. "I hath summoned thee hither, for a great matter is afoot that calls for thy counsel, Helluin." Here Gil-galad looked pointedly at her and said silently, _and scarce could I assure thy presence in haste without making the summons to Beinvír as well, for thou hast become inseparable it seems. I apologize for thy inconvenience, yet thou hast been party to fell doings only revealed of late._

"Lord Celebrimbor shalt explain," the king said aloud, passing the topic to the craftsman and sitting back in his chair. 'Twas as if by remaining less involved in the discussion, Gil-galad sought thereby to lessen his involvement with its subject. He set an elbow on the arm of his chair and rested the side of his head in his palm.

Celebrimbor cleared his throat nervously and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He looked around at the gathering and blinked, then finally took a deep breath and began to speak his tidings.

"'Tis a chronicle of fell deeds I bring thee; of gullibility exploited and trust betrayed, and of dreams twisted to the ruin of all. Thou all know of the revolt of the Gwaith-I-Mirdain and of the o'erthrow in 1375 of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. And thou warned me; indeed thou sent to me Helluin, who first discerned the truth, that amongst my people had come no less a foe than Sauron, the base Master of Lies. In her few hours in Ost-In-Edhil she even suffered speech with him, yet I denied her rede and presumed ignorance, and then did naught to ferret him out.

Indeed never did he appear to me in any form suspicious to eyes that saw but with hope, only that which they wanted to see. Never did I discern him. Yet I am now convinced he walked long amongst us, and oft acting through others the better to disguise his course, o'er many years inspired the ambitions and elevated the craft of the Gwaith-I-Mirdain. Aid indeed he brought us to our ruin, temptations irresistible, and all the more for we deluded ourselves, deeming our own hands and minds the source of all we learned. And so with subtle guile he taught us, and by our own hearts' desires ensnared us; a fell Lord of Gifts indeed.

Much we learnt in the years following the rebellion, for secret built upon secret, and this was added to essays taken long before." Here Celebrimbor cast his gaze for a moment on the Sarchram, and seeing this, Helluin became suspicious, even of him. Someone had attacked her through it, and who knew better its nature save Celebrimbor who had helped forge it? A glow of blue flame kindled in her eyes. He looked away and continued.

"In the year 1374 I finally succeeded in recreating the power of the Elessar of Gondolin, a jewel whose virtue lay in healing and holding at bay somewhat the decay of the Mortal Lands. But long years before, in 1123, with Helluin and Narvi of Khazad-dum, I had a hand in forging the Sarchram, into which Helluin bequeathed a measure of the power of her fëa, thus binding it to her will. In these two triumphs were wrought the seeds of our people's downfall…the achievement of staying the fading of the world, and the binding and empowerment of a work with personal power.

Thence to my mind came whispers, inspirations, and at last after many years of discovery, the techniques for making Rings of Power were perfected. Not rings such as thou carry." Here, Celebrimbor looked sadly at Helluin, and his hand rose to clutch a gold chain that hung about his neck. Strung upon it were sixteen rings of gold, each with a colored stone. "Nothing so easily visible or restricted in form to the craft of slaying did we create. The Rings of Eregion were not made as weapons of war, but rather as aids to enrichment or for staving off the decay of time. In form, they art rings such as one might wear to adorn a finger.

Their forging began in 1500, and somewhere around that time I believe Sauron left us to perfect our craft, knowing his knowledge had been received and would bear fruit were he present or not, for his touch was upon us and his mission achieved. In light of later events I believe he chose then to depart, the better to order his own realm and to construct there his own devices.

With my guildsmen I crafted these rings," Celebrimbor declared, raising the chain of rings for all to see. They appeared well made, but unremarkable to the eye. "Seven did I make as gifts to raise the majesty of the lords of Durin's Folk, my friends and brothers in craft. Nine I made for Men, mighty gifts for those most prone to dying, as aids to the prowess of our allies of old, the Men of Westernesse. In the making of each I learned and refined my process, ever building on the techniques of empowerment. And then in 1590 did I begin the hallmarks and masterworks of my craft; Three Rings for the Lords of the Eldar, each cleaving to an esoteric element, fire, water, and air."

Here again Celebrimbor paused, and though it seemed that he felt all had come to ill, still all perceived he felt still some measure of pride in the accomplishment. And those rings he did not show forth to the council. But now the changes in him made sense to Helluin. Of course he had tested his creations, and he had tested their virtue on himself! Whatever power he had donated to empower all the rings, the later use of the three had recouped it for him and more. And if the evidence was noticeable in his hroa, what effect had it brought to his fëa? Helluin found herself forming many questions.

"For ten years all went well," Celebrimbor continued, "and many trials of the Rings of Power did we successfully make in those days. Yet all too soon the bright dawn of our accomplishment gave way to a dark night of horror. In 1600, at dawn on the Ré i Anaro, those wearing the Three Rings were assailed in spirit."

At his words, Helluin sprang to her feet. Questions aside, her impression was that somehow the power that Celebrimbor had created had contrived to attack her and very nearly enslave her soul. Ere anyone could move, Anguirel lay unsheathed in her right hand, the Grave Wing in her left, and the blue fire flared in her eyes.

"He is not the one!" Gil-galad screamed, leaping up from his chair and leaning across the desk with hands outstretched in supplication. "No harm hast come to thee from him!"

Helluin froze, her eyes flicking back and forth between Gil-galad and Celebrimbor, and for many heartbeats no one moved. In her eyes they saw their deaths but a moment away, and in that moment felt the terror of her enemies of old. But slowly the king's words penetrated her blood rage; vengeance, she saw, had escaped her, for she would not exact it upon the undeserving. The fire dimmed and she relaxed, and at last replaced her weapons. All breathed more freely as she resumed her seat.

"My apologies, Celebrimbor," she said, feeling shame as she watched him unclench the whitened knuckles griping the arms of his chair. "Upon the Ré i Anaro in 1600, I too was assailed, and fought then a grim internal struggle, for I perceived one would enslave my spirit, and that enemy used as a gateway to my fëa, the Sarchram, empowered as it is and bound to my will. Long and bitter was that fight, and at the last did I seize back the sovereignty of it and sever the connection. Yet I felt for long some malevolent eye upon me, and I was forced to barricade my spirit with light and fire."

"And thou prevailed?" Celebrimbor asked. "Thou wrenched free thy weapon and expelled thy enemy?"

"Indeed so, and barely," she answered, casting her eyes to Beinvír seated beside her who alone of all of them had not feared her wrath, for she had seen much of it in the last year.

"Then thou should know that thou hast alone of all the Noldor defeated Sauron Gorthaur in a contest of wills," the jewel-smith said, "and thence contrived to fence him out. The like hast not happened since Luthien wrested from him the mastery of Minas Tirith."

And Helluin, hearing his words, felt her teeth commence to chattering and a blackness rising up in her vision that for a moment took her in a swoon. 'Twas only for a moment, but Beinvír saw and grabbed her hand. Any validation the Green Elf felt at the confirmation of her suspicions was lost in her fear for her friend and her pride in her as well. The internal battle had been harrowing to watch, for no aid could she give save her presence, and the aftermath had continued for a year and a season. The identity of the enemy had been unresolved. _The Werelord of Iarwain's song! 'Twas Sauron…of course! _Now the mystery had been solved, and terrifying as it was, still it seemed better to know the enemy than to be forever wondering. Helluin mastered herself, took a deep breath, and tried to relax.

"Sauron, huh?" She muttered, "Go thou figure."

"Celebrimbor, what became of the Ringwearers?" Beinvír nervously asked.

The guildmaster gulped and looked down, his face saddened by the memories. It had been horrible and he still cringed, seeing his fellow jewel-smiths, his friends, fading before his eyes, control of their own _fëar_**¹** sapped from them as they were reduced to wraiths. Surely they would have become undead servants of Sauron with no wills of their own. Only with his own rejuvenated power had he been able to tear Narya from his own finger and wrest from the others the rings of water and air, but to do it, he had been forced to slay them both. **¹**(**fëar, _"spirits" _****_fëa_**(spirit, spark) + **_-r_**(pl.) Quenya)

"They waned and became as ghosts, wraiths I deemed them, no doubt under the dominion of the Enemy. They began to vanish before my eyes, crying out in fear and anguish," he said, his voice raw with sorrow. "I had no time and knew no other course. I was forced to take steel to them."

_And I escaped a like fate by naught but the skin of my teeth_, Helluin thought. Had she known her enemy, the horror would have very nearly paralyzed her. And what she heard next left her in amazement.

"During the attack I perceived the Enemy," Celebrimbor said when he resumed his tale with a shaking voice, "for I myself wore the Red Ring. I saw his mind and it was terrible; the endless depth of cruelty, the unquenchable lust of power, and the eternal hatred he bears us very nearly o'erthrew me. Ere I tore the ring from my hand, these staves I heard in my mind. _One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them. One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them._

He hath made a Master Ring, empowered by and bound to him, and it shalt seek out all others and he shalt make them subject to his will. This he did in hopes of enslaving the greatest amongst us, but perceiving him, we hath removed the Three and hidden them, and never shalt we use them so long as he shalt hold his One."

After that, the group fell for some time into silence, each alone with their thoughts. In hearing the tale for the first time, Helluin and Beinvír were astonished and horrified. The effect was little less on those who had heard it told aforetime. All felt thankful for the courage and decisiveness of Celebrimbor, for alone of them all, he had come face to face with the Lord of Treachery and known him. The smith had retained the presence of mind to thwart the Enemy's plan despite the terror that had assailed him.

But the words of the Enemy's incantation were all too familiar as well._ One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them. One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them._ Sauron's staves mirrored closely those upon the Sarchram. _One ring that flies to find them. One ring to send them all unto the Void and in its darkness bind them._ In intent they were close cousins in their darkness. Helluin knew 'twas her own darkness that had inspired that of the Great Enemy, for he had read the cirth in the tavern of Ost-In-Edhil and he had certainly not forgotten. To her shame, the hatred inside herself had shown Sauron a way to advance his dominion; a weapon empowered by his own fell spirit, dedicated to bringing all others under his will by binding their spirits as wraiths. He had but followed her example, differing only by retaining mastery of his vanquished.

_Surely the others must hold me responsible at least in some degree,_ she thought, _and they hath ever feared my darkness_. _Now they hath good reason to fear it yet the more._

"I pity most the two who fell to such an undeserved fate," Beinvír said softly, "and to be remembered thus for all time amongst the Wise. History shalt name them as yet another pair of Sauron's victims and then blame them for their ambition. How very sad."

"History shalt not remember them thus, for these doings art to remain secret," Gil-galad said sternly. "Our fate rests upon keeping hidden the Three, holding them beyond Sauron's grasp and hoping that someday they can be used freely after his fall. Should any know enough to ask, all three were removed when Sauron first put on the Master Ring…and they were then destroyed. Indeed, so too with the Seven and the Nine."

Around the desk the others nodded in agreement. Helluin voiced the only dissent.

"I deem the Three should be destroyed indeed, or else sent across the sea," she commented, "for they art not in accord with the Way of Arda as the Valar made it, and they art made to forestall the fading that is part of the Will of Iluvatar. In keeping these things, we damn ourselves with ambitions of power beyond our due. With the Seven and the Nine we endanger too our friends."

"If they do indeed exist against the Will of Iluvatar, then they shalt not be received in Aman," Galdor said (with certainty). "Yet from ambition hath the Eldar achieved much in Arda, and all was surely foreseen in the Song.

"I hold hope that Sauron shalt indeed fall someday," Gil-galad said (hopefully), "and then the need of healing shalt be great. Only by the power of the Three Rings shalt we be able to undo what his malice hath wrought. Surely such a desire cannot be evil."

"I should agree, my Lord, for in Sauron we see returned Morgoth's evils, yet upon a lesser scale," said Elrond (eruditely). "And did not the greater fall aforetime? Surely then so too the lesser. I too hath hope."

"And I," said Cirdan (reasonably), "yet even should the Three be received in the Undying Lands, no surety of safekeeping would that confer. Were not the Silmarils taken from Formenelos? So I hath heard tell. So too could the lesser act in the footsteps of his master. Sending the rings thus to Aman would but remove them from our hands who made them, and for the cure of whose ills they were made."

"And I should not see such potential for good lost to us upon the Hither Shores," Celebrimbor said (determinedly). "Already they hath been paid for in blood. I should not see the sacrifice of my friends made empty by sending them o'er the sea."

Helluin noted that the others were in unanimous agreement that the rings should be hidden, and in unanimous denial of the danger they created. And they were unanimously hopeful that someday the rings could be used. The problem was that they had not been needed before, but now by their very existence, they had precipitated a cause for war, being objects of lust for both the Eldar and the Enemy. _All seek after treasure, yet one without treasure is seldom robbed,_ she thought. Just one incident of use for whatever dire need, and Sauron would come charging down their throats, laying waste to all in search of what had escaped him. Yet in light of her part in things, she felt it not her place to offer comment and so she held her peace.

_What think thou?_ Helluin asked silently as she met Beinvír's eyes.

_I think we should go somewhere far, far away,_ the Green Elf replied, _but barring that, I think we should prepare for war. Their secrecy shalt not fool Sauron long._

_I agree, but the only place I know that I suspect shalt be untouched by war is the house of Iarwain Ben-adar, and I should not go there, for I deem him a threat no less than Sauron. I think we shalt be forced to war, though I know not when. I should like to know how things stand in Mordor._

_And I should say that, save perhaps the house of Iarwain, no place would I ill-favor more than Mordor,_ Beinvír said silently,_ nor should thou go thither seeking he who sought thee, and made war already upon thee. Leave thou such errands to others._

_I shalt do so. No desire hath I to go thither, merely tidings do I crave. I suppose there is naught else for us here. Art thou ready to go?_

_Indeed so. Save seeing Celebrimbor safe, I should hath done well not to come hither._

"By thy grace, my Lord," Helluin said, rising to her feet, her feelings of guilt and shame making flight from their presence all the more desirable, "I cannot think of aught else to add in counsel and would take my leave."

Beinvír too was standing, preparing to offer her farewell, but ere she could say aught, the king roused himself from his thoughts and spoke.

"Indeed it seems our course is decided, but now we must prepare for war." Here he looked pointedly at Helluin with a glance she both recognized and had dearly hoped to avoid. "Helluin, I can think of no other so suitable as thyself to convey to Tar-Telperien in Armenelos our suspicions that Sauron shalt soon offer battle. Therefore I appoint thee Embassy to Númenor, and direct thee thither forthwith. A ship is indeed docked at this moment in Mithlond, outbound for Romenna on the morrow. Of course, Beinvír shalt share in thy office under auspice of the crown, if she should see fit to accompany thee."

Beinvír, being the only one there not a subject of the Noldorin King, groaned out loud. The idea of taking Beinvír to Númenor brought icy fingers to close around Helluin's neck, but she merely sighed and nodded, feeling in her heart that she deserved no less.

"As thou command, my Lord," she said, dipping her head.

_C'mon, Beinvír, let's get out of here ere he asks me to go 'check up on Mordor' as well._

They fled Lindon in irritation and made their way forthwith to Mithlond by horse.

And when they were gone, Gil-galad said, "Neither shalt history remember the guilt of Helluin Maeg-mormenel, nor the part she played in the foundation of our Enemy's designs. Ever hath she been possessed by some darkness, and I fear what the coming years shalt bring." None of them had known her before the crossing of the Helcaraxe.

**To Be Continued**

7


	30. In An Age Before Chapter 30

**In An Age Before – Part 30

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**

**Chapter Twenty-two**

_**Númenor - The Second Age of the Sun**_

_Viava Laireo_**¹** the great ship of Númenor had indeed been docked at Mithlond, and she weighed anchor and sailed on the morning tide of 4 Narbeleth, (October 4th), S.A. 1601. This ship was of even greater dimensions than the _Rámaen_ they had ridden in from Lond Daer to the mouth of the Sîr Angren in 1375. She was neither an explorer nor a man-o-war, but rather a glorified cargo ship carrying off to Westernesse a precious hoard of timber. At o'er 140 yards in length, her beam was 70 feet and her draft was 30. Her hull rode low, yet still her main deck stood 35 feet above the waves in a calm. And within her main hold lay o'er 430,000 board feet of rough sawn lumber, enough to build two and a half vessels of her size. She would break no speed records, but she was the most stable ship Helluin had ever imagined.

**¹**(**Viava Laireo, _"Summer Wind", laire_** (summer) + **_-o_** (gen.) + **_vaiva_** (wind), lit. trans. "Wind of Summer". Quenya)

Helluin and Beinvír were made comfortable in an aft cabin just forward of the captain's own, on the port side opposite that of the sailing master. As ambassadors, they were considered dignitaries, a status Helluin found sometimes a nuisance, but Beinvír enjoyed thoroughly for they regularly shared the captain's table.

When they'd first set out, many of the junior officers had tried to convince the tall Noldo to refrain from climbing the rigging, but Helluin had desired the high eyepoint of the mastheads, especially at night. Finally in exasperation, she had challenged all comers to a 'rat race', a contest of haste up and through the rigging. The competition had not even been close. With her Elven balance and stamina she had bested the mariners in speed, agility, and endurance. Finally to cement her point, she had walked the spars of the topgallants as easily as she would the branches of a great tree. The mariners had been astonished at her display, looking up to where she stood comfortably on the five-inch diameter spar, contentedly staring out to sea while taking the ship's roll 120 feet above the deck. Yet she was anything but at ease.

There had been no conceivable way to dissuade Beinvír from accompanying her across the sea. And Beinvír was Laiquendi, part of the kindred of the Nandor, but long before, the Nandor had been Teleri. They had heeded to call of Orome and begun the march west. Like King Lenwe in Belfalas, the sea longing lay in their hearts, and the stirring of it left them yearning for the Undying Lands. Indeed of all the Elven kindreds they held the greatest affinity for water. At best it was a perilous desire lying dormant, only awaiting a catalyst to become an ever-present longing. Now Beinvír was again aboard a ship upon the sea, and this time they were sailing…sailing west. Númenor lay halfway to Tol Eressea, far out of sight of the Hither Shores, and in Númenor, Eldar of the Lonely Isle were wont to come in their swan-prowed ships to visit at the City of Eldalondë in the western province of Andustar.

_I could lose her there,_ Helluin thought as she stared ahead across the waves, _and she would be the first of her people I know of to complete the journey. I should miss her terribly, and yet she deserves the chance to make that choice. She would find great wonder and happiness in the Undying Lands…and she would be safe there, safe from Sauron and safe from the coming war. In many ways it would be the best choice for her._

_What would staying in Middle Earth gain her? A chance to die in battle? A chance to see me again in a bloodthirsty rage? She hast seen me fight, but not for years or decades or centuries on end. And this war shalt go on for many years; I it feel in my heart. We shalt be fighting Sauron for an Age. The Avari of Greenwood fled from the battle against the Yrch; they fled from the horror of the slaughter…and they fled from me. Compared to what lies in store, that battle was nothing. The violence of wars such as were fought in Beleriand would steal the light of her eyes and the warmth of her heart. I should despise myself for bringing her to such memories as art born of war. T'would kill me to know I'd dragged her into a lifetime of fighting that had stolen her laughter and joy. She would be better off with her love of living preserved in the Immortal Lands of the West. _

_As a friend…indeed as one who loves her I can do naught but offer her the chance to make a choice. And I shalt miss her; oh how I shalt miss her, but better that than to lose another one dear. I failed you, Verinno, my brother. But I shalt not fail you, Beinvír._

Days of fair winds gave _Viava Laireo_ a steady speed of 10 knots, and she ran the 1,900 sea miles to Romenna in eight days. Thus in the last of the morning's darkness on 11 Narbeleth, Helluin watched as the Meneltarma loomed up from the sea to greet the dawn.

Beside her on the small talan atop the foremast, Beinvír watched in silent wonder. Never had one of the Laiquendi sailed so far west. The wind blew back her chestnut hair, animating its cascading waves, and the light of joy filled her grey eyes. She had thrived on the sea air and adventure, but more than that, Helluin knew the Elven sea longing in her heart was being prodded by their sojourn. Beinvír fairly glowed with excitement, and Helluin thought she had never seen her friend looking so lovely. _Fair of face and form thou art, and a treasure to my heart,_ she thought, _thou hast become more than a friend to me._ She wrapped her arms about Beinvír's waist and pulled her close as she rested against the mast. The Green Elf leaned back with a sigh and clasped her hands o'er Helluin's larger ones, and together they watched as Arien brought forth Anor to cast the first rays of gold upon the hallowed mount of Númenor.

At the court of Queen Tar-Telperien their reception was far different than what Helluin had endured aforetime during the reign of Tar-Ancalime. Though Tar-Telperien was the great-granddaughter of Tar-Ancalime and looked very nearly exactly like her, there the similarities ended. Telperien was now 281 years old, and had ruled thus far for 45 years. She was much beloved by her subjects and cared deeply for her people. Ironically she had never married, (as her great-grandmother Ancalime had despite her aversion to and distrust of men), taking her duties far more seriously than her suitors, and though many had sought to woo her, she had accepted none. In the place of an Heir of her body stood her nephew, Minastir, 154 years her junior, whom she favored as a grandson.

In 1375, Captain Ciryandur of the _Rámaen_ had told Helluin and Beinvír of the then-Heir and of her exact likeness to the dark Noldo. Now, 226 years later, she was still a very handsome woman, and though her black mane was shot with streaks of grey, the lines about her eyes came from laughter. She held herself regally, but in comfort and grace, not with the formal stiffness of the first queen. And her voice, though steady and commanding at need, was warm and wise and held naught of condescension or malice.

Helluin and Beinvír first met her formally in the Hall of Kings, when they presented themselves in their official capacity as Embassy to the Crown of Númenor from High King Gil-galad. Helluin noted during their walk down the echoing hall that three portrait statues, carved of the same white marble as all the others, had been added, those of Tar-Ancalime, Tar-Anarion, and Tar-Súrion. When the two Elves finally stood before the throne, the queen had regarded them a moment with the hint of a grin on her lips, an expression eerily familiar to Beinvír from the face of her friend.

"Welcome, Helluin Maeg-mormenel of the Host of Finwe, and Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador," she said, rising from her throne and stepping down from the dais to greet them. At Helluin's formal bow she chuckled and reached out, taking each in their turn in her arms for a hug.

Telperien stretched up on her toes and into Helluin's ear as she held her close she whispered, "My dear, thou must share with me forthwith the secret of thy preservation, as I hath some wrinkles and sags I should like to dismiss." She winked at Helluin's shock, one corner of her lips quirking in a phantom grin.

When she held Beinvír she whispered, "Had I one such as thou for company I should surely still be young, for who would leave such a companion even at the command of the One." Beinvír actually blushed at the words and the queen laughed out loud.

When she stepped back from her flustered guests the queen grew serious.

"Thou art dispatched to the Court of Armenelos on behalf of His Majesty King Gil-galad, and thy tidings art of great importance to me and my people. Yet I deem such as thou may bear should perhaps first be spoken to my ears ere they pass thence to the court. We shalt take counsel together in my chambers shortly. In the meantime I would beg thy indulgence. I hath mariners returning to greet and several other matters of the regency to attend. I pray thee rest while I work and I shalt send for thee at the earliest moment."

"My thanks for the warmth of thy welcome. We shalt attend thee at thy convenience, O Queen," Helluin said ere she bowed.

"Thou hast my thanks also for thy welcome," Beinvír said with a smile, "and for thy warm words. I fear ere long I shalt become quite insufferable 'neath thy praise."

The queen smiled broadly at them both and then beckoned a chamberlain thither to attend them. They were shown to rooms nearby within the citadel, and Helluin, knowing the floor plan from her visits aforetime, appreciated that they were honored with lodgings in the wing of the royal family. It was a generous and none too subtle gesture on the queen's part, indicative of her honor for their kinship, for she was Helluin's descendant of the 6th generation.

"And so now I know how thou shalt appear with the advancement of thy age," Beinvír teased, "say, 5,000 or 10,000 years hence."

Helluin raised an eyebrow at her comment, replying, "Whatsoever praise the queen hath paid thee hath already made thee insufferable."

'Twas about two hours later when a knock came upon their door. Beinvír answered it and ushered in a man of early middle age, tall, dark of hair and grey-eyed, well built and quite handsome. When Helluin first saw him she gasped out loud.

"Thy pardon I beg, my Lady," he said, bowing to them each I turn, then looking to Helluin with concern he said, "I hath no intention of causing thee unease. Pray tell me how I hath upset thee."

Helluin had by this time mastered herself and suppressed her gut reaction. He was all too familiar to her and at his first appearance she had thought herself confronting a ghost. _For who in Arda know whither go the spirits of Men who hath died?_

"'Tis no fault of thine, my Lord," she said, noting the ring of the royal house upon his finger, "'tis merely that thy features favor so closely one known to me aforetime, and for a moment I thought myself beholding the spirit of one dear and long departed."

At this he cocked a brow at her in surprise, unsure of how to proceed. That expression of face mirrored one she had seen oft before. He tilted his head a fraction in question, and this gesture too was familiar.

"Thou art the very image of Captain Veantur, once Captain-Admiral of His Majesty Tar-Elendil's ships, and my husband."

At her words, both the Man and Beinvír stared at her in shock.

"Indeed I am descended from him," he said after a silence of some moments, "though none ere now hath remarked upon my looks. My Lady, I am Minastir, Heir to Her Majesty Queen Tar-Telperien, my aunt."

At this, Helluin rose and bowed to him and said, "My Lord, what may we do for thee?"

"I hath come hither to accompany thee to the chamber of the queen, for she hath made ready to hear thy tidings," he explained, "and I am to be present also at thy embassy. I thought to guide thee hence and meet thee myself ere the concerns of state take precedence." Here he self-consciously regarded Helluin, but managed to say, "Long I hath studied thy people, meeting eagerly at times with those come hither from Eressea. Such beauty do they create, and such wisdom do they hold. Greatly do I reverence those of the West. Yet amongst all thy kindred, thou doth hold a place especial amongst my family, my people, and our history. Long hath I desired to meet thee, distant foremother, for thy life stretches back far beyond that of any I hath met aforetime. What wonders thou hast seen, and yet still shalt see, long after I and all my kin hath departed. In my youth, many an hour did I spend trying to imagine the Life of the Eldar with which thou art blessed. In my youthful heart I once longed for such…opportunities. Indeed since childhood I hath read of thee in many precious scrolls, for thou art truly a legend."

At this confession, Beinvír giggled and said, "A Legend of Númenor and a Gôrgbu of Drúwaith Iaur." Helluin had groaned and Minastir had looked at them in confusion.

But Helluin had noted Minastir becoming ever more enlivened as he spoke, and ere he finished, she'd detected the yearning in his voice and deep in his heart. She'd found it troublesome and stranger still from one so close in appearance to Veantur, who had never sought to be anything other than what he truly was.

They took a passageway from their room, retracing in part their steps from the Hall of Kings. Along the way Minastir asked a number of questions. It soon became apparent to Helluin that they were taking a somewhat circuitous route the better to lengthen the time.

"My Lord, art we not imposing upon Her Majesty through our tardiness?"

"My aunt hath all too many concerns," Minastir said, "and is surely engrossed in some work pending our arrival. She is highly efficient, using any available time to best advantage. We shalt present ourselves shortly. I pray thee forgive my liberty at prolonging my questions, but I am curious. Thou art so like unto my queen in form and face as to be mistaken for her daughter perhaps, a magnificent irony of course. Also I hath noted thy eyes, ever roving and marking thy surroundings, and in this too thou art very much akin, for she misses naught placed before her and indeed perceives much that is not. She shalt question thee much concerning the coming war."

"Indeed for just such concerns hath we been dispatched," Helluin replied, "and to find an open ear is welcome. 'Tis already far different a welcome than greeted me upon my last sojourn hither, and as the time runs the shorter, so too doth the need increase."

"Then we shalt harken to thee," Minastir said, and rapped upon the door before which they now stood.

"Enter, Minastir," the queen's voice called from within without seeing them.

They saw that indeed Tar-Telperien had been engaged in a parchment, utilizing such time as was allowed her as she could. This she set aside, and rising from her desk, came and ushered her guests to a sitting area and gestured that they be comfortable. She herself took an armchair that the Elves noted had pockets attached to its sides, o'erflowing with documents and a number of bound tomes. Also, a small shelf mounted on a swivel, and holding an inkwell and pen and a stack of blank leaves, was attached to the right arm. Helluin and Beinvír sat together upon a couch, while Minastir took a seat in a more ordinary armchair. A low table amidst the setting held a silver flagon and cups, and a small tray of cakes was also there. Minastir poured for them all, handing 'round the refreshments. The cakes, the Elves discovered, were baked with cinnamon and clove and honey, and were sweet and very tasty. The wine was cool and fruity and slightly tart.

"Welcome again," Telperien said. "Since Captain Ciryandur spoke of thee I hath desired to meet thee both. He remarked upon thy likeness, or more rightly, my likeness unto thee, and such thought intrigued me. Think thou 'tis thy Elven blood running true down the years that hath returned thy countenance time and again unto our house?"

Helluin had thought on this, and previously would hath answered yea, but now she had met Minastir and thought the matter was founded more deeply.

"Ere today I had thought just so, yet now I hath met thy Heir, and he doth reclaim the visage and form of my husband, Veantur, in such degree that at first glance I deemed him a spirit returned. Not only by my blood is appearance recouped, but in that too of the sons of the Dúnedain."

"Yet amongst the Dúnedain art many who partake of the blood of the House of Elros in some degree, and in that house runs yet the blood of Idril and of Luthien the Fair."

"Such too could be true, O Queen. I know not."

"'Tis a matter of curiosity only," Telperien said, "and probably a fruitless enquiry for intellect's sake into a mechanism of Arda whose ways lie beyond the ken of Iluvatar's Children. I hath noted too that thou art taller somewhat then I. Perhaps the inheritance is diminished in the passing of the generations? Ahhh well, I indulge myself in pursuits of idle wonder when more pressing matters art surely to hand. Tell me now thy tidings. What word from the Hither Shores?"

Now it was the difficulty inherent in their embassy that Helluin and Beinvír convince the queen of the increased threat of Sauron. Yet no mention of the Three Rings could they make, nor the course decided for their hiding could they divulge, for these things were deemed secrets to be shared with none. In sending Helluin, Gil-galad had acted shrewdly, for she alone could offer aught of proof while revealing naught of their secrets.

"'Tis the belief of the king that the Enemy, Sauron Gorthaur, is meditating war. Certain events of late hath portended aught as to signify the waxing of his malice," she said. "Most notably, he hath assailed me through ethereal channels, trying thus to enslave my spirit and render me thrall."

At this, both the monarch and her Heir stared at Helluin in horror. Sauron had aforetime been a threat merely by his renewed existence, but until now, no overtly hostile stroke had he made. And for his first attack, he had chosen to attempt the usurpation of the will of one close to them. Neither really understood all the ramifications, but thralldom 'neath the Dark Lord was horror enough.

"By what enchantment hath he acted to advance his malice?" Telperien asked.

A perceptive question, Helluin thought. Here she produced the Sarchram and laid it upon the table so its cirth were revealed. Telperien and Minastir read the incantation and shuddered. The words were fell, and the intent no less dark than that of the Enemy; the eternal destruction of a foe.

"Doth thy ring come hence from the Enemy himself?" The queen asked.

"Nay, O Queen," Helluin replied, "'twas forged in Khazad-dum by myself, Celebrimbor of Eregion, and Narvi of Hadhodrond. Into it I allowed to pass aught of the power of my own spirit, to bind it thence to my will and thus command its flight. Being linked thereby to me, Sauron sought to wrest control of it and employ it thence as an avenue of attack. His will came upon me on the Ré i Anaro in 1600. I fought his influence then, finally banishing him and retaining control of the Sarchram, and then fencing myself against him. In counsel with the wise 'twas deemed that none other than Sauron hath the power to act thus, striking across all the leagues from Mordor to Eriador."

"He hath wrought a charm of his power and malice, a Master Ring, therewith to focus his strength and cast it upon the will of others," Beinvír said. "Some of the great amongst our kindred hath felt his eye upon them from afar."

"And they hath heard an incantation declaring his intent spring forth within their minds, revealing somewhat of his designs._ One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them. One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them._ Thus came the thought of Sauron to the ears of the Eldar."

Telperien and Minastir thought on what they had heard. Fell tidings indeed these were. Sauron the Cruel sought to bind in darkness and dominate all free souls. Despite this the sharp minds of the royals fixed on the gaps in their story. Why did Sauron's incantation so closely recall the words on Helluin's weapon? Why had he chosen to go to war at this time? Why had he used this indirect method of attack? It seemed to place him at some risk. What if he should lose his Ring? Why would he declare his plans to his enemies? Was it merely to appear the more confident and threatening? How had Sauron been identified? How had Helluin survived and repelled his assault?

The Elves knew more than they told, but had that not always been the case? The king in Lindon had sent a Green Elf as well as one of his own subjects, and so the threat appeared accepted by not just his own kindred. And yet well 'nigh a year and a half had passed since the first attack. Why had they waited so long to send word? Surely Sauron would wage his war with his armies, not by the power of his Ring alone. Had they any guess as to when the battle would come? They must suspect such ahead, for little aid could Númenor give save in strength of arms. But what good would Men and arms be facing such a power as Sauron's One Ring?

"What boon or aid would thy lord request of Númenor," Tar-Telperien asked, "what strength found here might be pitted against the Enemy and his Ring? Would not such as assails the Eldar o'erwhelm the minds of Men? We art thy allies and friends, but indeed, what good can we hope to do?"

"O Queen, ever were the Edain the allies of the Eldar, even when standing against the greater power of Morgoth long ago," Helluin said. "Yet now our numbers art less than they were while thine hath grown. In thy people is much strength to be found. The Enemy cannot master all Middle Earth with but his will and his Ring. Lands must be taken and ruled and many laid 'neath the yoke. We deem his strength hast been abuilding in the land of Mordor for well nigh 600 years. 'Twas a great power I saw there in 1125 and surely it hath grown greater since. As in the wars of Beleriand we would ask thy aid, to stand at our sides against hostile armies as thy forefathers did, and to share those tidings discovered by thy mariners in the Hither Lands."

"Umbar, our haven in the Hither Lands lies south of Mordor, yet much further from it than the east marches of King Lenwe. Word hath come of late from Belfalas, of rising smoke and trembling in the ground and the unrest of the fiery mountain upon the plain of Gorgoroth. A watchfulness hath grown, they say, upon the walls of the Ephel Duath. Of such tidings I am sure thy king is aware, for the mariners of Cirdan come to Edhellond."

"Indeed such is known in Lindon," Helluin said.

"Yet what may not be known in Lindon is the preparations we make here in Númenor," Tar-Telperien said. "Hath thou any count of the Queen's Ships, Helluin? Art their numbers known to the High King?"

"Nay, O Queen, the strength of thy navy is not known to the Eldar, nor to any, I deem, in the Hither Lands. We know only of the harvesting of timber in Enedwaith upriver upon Glanduin, and in the lands about Umbar. The ship that bore us hence carried in her hold a great cargo of lumber. And in Romenna I hath seen many ships abuilding. In the time of Tar-Elendil, the King's Ships numbered 47 when first I arrived, and at the end of Veantur's tenure as Captain-Admiral that number had increased to 93."

"Would thou be pleased to know then that well 'nigh 400 ships now fly the pennant of the Crown of Númenor? That upon each can sail a company of 200 soldiers with their horses and gear? The Army of Númenor hast been growing ever since the days of Tar-Anarion, my grandfather…thy pupil. From the very day of his ascendance upon the throne he decreed that this nation make itself ready, for he considered the war to come better fought upon the mainland than here. Give us but another 25 years, and 100,000 foot and horse shalt march upon the Hither Shores to stand against the Great Enemy."

The two Elves were struck silent. The Númenóreans could already field and transport an army of 80,000? She had thought the Army of Khazad-dum the mightiest force upon Middle Earth, numbering just o'er 30,000. In all the lands, the Eldar would be pressed to field even 25,000, were all the kindreds and companies gathered and marshaled, and of the Noldor, perhaps but 3,000 or 4,000 remained battle worthy.

The Elder Children of Iluvatar gained but slowly in numbers o'er time. Long-lived, the Naugrim were much the same. But Men reproduced much faster. Knowing they would die all too soon, mortals sought to leave a legacy of both action and offspring, passing on their wisdom and heritage to ever increasing numbers of progeny. They had already been a numerous folk when first they had come o'er the Ered Luin in the third century after arising in Hildorien. The next three centuries had decimated them. Only in the First Age, when war had come again and again and deaths had outpaced births, had the numbers of the Edain plummeted. But in the Second Age, while enjoying the prosperity and safety of their island home, their numbers had exploded o'er the last 1,600 years of peace.

"O Queen, I am heartened greatly by thy news," Helluin said. "I should wager thy strength in numbers already equal to all the allies that walk free in the Hither Lands. I doubt Sauron hath even the dimmest inkling of thy strength."

"And he shalt know naught of it aforetime," Minastir said, "for in little more than a fortnight can we marshal and sail to thy aid. We need only hear word of battle and we shalt sail for Lindon."

Helluin and Beinvír nodded at his words. Even on a cargo transport they had just made the crossing in eight days. Both felt great relief knowing the strength of their allies, and they knew Gil-galad would be equally impressed.

In the following days, Helluin and Beinvír discharged their embassy, and they spent much time in counsel with Queen Tar-Telperien and her Heir. They also spoke before the court, answering many questions from the Númenóreans.

They stayed in Númenor a month, and while not attending their duties had time to take in the city and the surrounding lands. Nigh the end of the month of Narbeleth they had a week free, and so Helluin begged leave to take horses and ride west to Andustar. There she sought to show her friend the harbor upon the Bay of Eldanna, and the city of Eldalondë. There ships from Tol Eressea were wont to come at times. Helluin had oft met with Eldar from the Blessed Isle there, and there she had taken ship following the death of Veantur in S.A. 992.

To Be Continued


	31. In An Age Before Chapter 31

**In An Age Before – Part 31

* * *

**

They stayed in Númenor a month, and while not attending their duties had time to take in the city and the surrounding lands. Nigh the end of the month of Narbeleth they had a week free, and so Helluin begged leave to take horses and ride west to Andustar. There she sought to show her friend the harbor upon the Bay of Eldanna, and the city of Eldalondë. There ships from Tol Eressea were wont to come at times. Helluin had oft met with Eldar from the Blessed Isle there, and there she had taken ship following the death of Veantur in S.A. 992.

They left early in the morning on 29 Narbeleth and arrived in the late afternoon on the 31st. Helluin had been dour; an inescapable mood bordering on brooding had taken her in advance of watching Beinvír sailing away from her into the West. Beinvír had been puzzled, but being used to Helluin's moods, didn't allow it to diminish her wonder at traveling the Land of the Gift. Rather she chided Helluin gently, trying to lift her spirits.

"Art thou conveying me hence to a funeral, my friend?" She asked with a grin.

"Whatever hath given thee such an impression?" Helluin asked, returning from her ruminations at Beinvír's question.

"Perhaps 'tis thy glum expressions? Thy lack of mirth? The slump of thy shoulders, or the downturning of thy lips? Come, Helluin, what hath struck thee mute these last hours? I should think us riding to some grave doom."

"'Tis always doom in some form lying nigh 'round the corner, some lesser and some greater. I hath not ridden hither in well nigh 600 years and the last time was to take ship following the death of my husband. I am sorry. I sought not to diminish thy enjoyment of the scenery with my depressing company. I shalt endeavor to be more lighthearted."

"Thou needn't force a jolly mood upon thyself for my benefit, Helluin," Beinvír said straight faced, "though I shalt appreciate thou refraining from singing maudlin songs."

Helluin looked sidelong at the Green Elf but couldn't tell if she was serious or jesting. A moment later Beinvír stopped her horse dead in the road as if she had struck a wall.

Riding downslope to the harbor through a forest scented with cedar and pine, the lands about them had opened into a vista of the westering sea lit golden by the falling sun that seemed to float above the waves. It was timeless and Helluin understood the impact of it that had made Beinvír beside her gasp in wonder. A thousand years before she had felt that same surge in her heart for the beauty of it when she'd first seen it, riding beside Veantur on her first visit in S.A. 601. After staring at the scene for some time, Beinvír coaxed her mount forward again, only to come upon an even more impressive vista.

They stopped their mounts upon the road where it turned a descending curve. For long moments they took in the view; sun upon the waves, Eldalondë, the White City of many arches, graceful and tranquil, lying below. And at the quay floated a white ship, swan-prowed and bearing a single mast, and upon it lay a faint shimmer visible only to the eyes of the Eldar. Such a sight could naught but raise the sea-longing in the Green Elf's heart.

"'Tis a ship out of the Blessed Isle," Helluin told Beinvír, seeing that it had captured her eyes, "and tonight we shalt perhaps meet those who hath sailed hither upon it. Perhaps even they shalt be known to me; friends of old long sundered."

"What I see before me now; this land, this sea, even the trees about us, art beautiful with a clarity I hath never known upon the Hither Shores," Beinvír said softly. "Indeed, never thought to see. Here truly is that Mortal Land closest to the Immortal West of song. I see it with my eyes, but more, I feel it with my heart. All about us grow trees and plants the like of which I hath not known aforetime, and all fragrant, shapely, and graceful. 'Tis almost too much to bear."

Helluin looked at her friend and saw the tears starting in her eyes, so moved was her heart by their surroundings. Somewhere a bird trilled a song unheard in Middle Earth, for like the trees, oiolairë, _(evergreen)_, and nessamelda,_ (fresh-scent)_, white blooming laireossë,_ (summer-snow)_, and golden malinornë, (the mallorn), they had come as gifts in ships from the West. All about them a caressing breeze carried their many sweet scents.

"Of all Mortal Lands, thou stand in that most like unto the Undying Realm," Helluin told her, "and I would that thou could see its beauty. Yet beyond these shores lies that which is yet again more beautiful still, and I can show it to thee not." Helluin turned back to look out o'er the strand towards the far West that lay beyond sight, and when she spoke again, her voice was soft, barely to be heard. "Thou may be offered a choice, my dearest friend, and if so, choose as thy heart bids thee."

At her words, Beinvír looked questioningly at Helluin, but the Noldo only nodded ahead and gently nudged her horse. Beinvír followed, looking about and trying to mark all things at once. _So too did I go forth upon the westward march, trying to see all and miss none, and commit every glance to my memory, _Helluin thought as she rode silently, leading Beinvír down into the city of Eldalondë.

They stayed at an inn called _Termáre_**¹**, which had views of the shore, for Helluin knew it was the place favored by those who came hither from the Lonely Isle. They took their supper in the common room, and sure enough, there were several of the mariners out of the Undying Lands, speaking softly together and sipping wine. They traded glances with Helluin and Beinvír as they entered, questioning and silently answering, and arranging to speak after the two friends had dined.

**¹**(**Termáre, _To Stay/Tarry/Linger_**, v.inf. Quenya)

Though the fare was delicious, Helluin and Beinvír ate quickly, and when they were done, Helluin requested a pitcher and then they went to join the Eldar of Tol Eressea.

"_Alassarwa yomenie, nildnyai_**¹,**" one of them said as they rose to greet the two friends, "I am _Tuilendil_**²**, a grower of plants. With me art _Luhtalle_and _Soronhen_**³**."

**¹**(**Alassarwa yomenie, nildnyai_ Joyful meeting, my _**_(female)** friends"**_.Quenya)

**²**(**Tuilendil, _"Lover of Springtime",_** **_Tuile_**(Springtime) + **_-ndil_**(lover of) Quenya)

**³**(**Luhtalle, _"Enchantress",_ _luhta-_**(enchant) +**-(al)le(**fem. agent) and **Soronhen, _"Eagle Eye", soron_**(eagle) + **_hen_**(eye) Quenya)

"Alassarwa yomenie, Tuilendil, Luhtalle, ar Soronhen," Helluin replied, nodding to each in turn. "I am Helluin and my friend is Beinvír. I am glad to find thee hither."

Tuilendil, the grower of plants, was the eldest, an ellon with grey streaking his dark hair and a slender build. Luhtalle was a tall beauty with the rare silvery hair of the Telerin kindred, whose grey-blue eyes shone bright with life as yet unencumbered by the weight of memories. Helluin suspected she had been born on Tol Eressea after the pardoning of the Exiles. Soronhen was dark-haired and grey-eyed, but those eyes were clear, sharp of glance, and moved quickly, making him appear somewhat shifty. Indeed he looked closely at them both and his eyes lingered on Beinvír longer than Helluin would have liked. They each greeted the two in friendship and Helluin detected no duplicity in them.

"Art thou of the kindred of Ossiriand?" Soronhen asked Beinvír after they were seated.

"Indeed so, but born afterwards in Eriador beyond the Ered Luin," she answered.

The others nodded, understanding thence why they detected no Light of Aman upon her.

"Thou art known to me, Helluin," Tuilendil said, "for I remember thee from Gondolin, the place of my birth, and I hath seen thy likeness again here in Númenor. I saw thee at times in Avernien as well, for I escaped the Hidden City in the company of Idril and Tuor though I had taken injury when the city fell. Indeed I still favor my right leg when I walk."

Helluin nodded, understanding that he had suffered much, the Cirith Thoronath not the least of the memories that had darkened his stay in Mortal Lands.

"I pray thee, tell me what passes on the Hither Shores," he asked, a gleam of excitement growing in his eyes, "for surely much is there to see in those vast lands. I never walked far beyond Sirion in all my days in Beleriand and hath not returned thither since. Surely thou hast seen great wonders and many peoples in this Age."

"Many wonders indeed," Helluin said, "but great dangers too, and these grow more threatening of late. Pass my tidings to those in the Undying Lands, that Sauron Gorthaur hast arisen again and prepares for war. In the land of Mordor he orders a realm and hath built him there a great tower, and raised an army. Tell them that soon there shalt be war in the Hither Lands. We expect no aid from them again; simply let them know."

"So that is the great concern of the wise, and why of late Númenor hath undertaken armament," he said, finally understanding the reasons for many things he had seen of late. "I should say thy tidings art known to a few already, Helluin. I am not sure, for I am not in their confidence, but perhaps thou shalt receive some aid from the Undying Lands yet. Of late I hath noticed the reappearance of some who were once lost. They may come again o'er the water to mortal shores."

Tuilendil's words Helluin marked and remembered, but she understood them not, and he could say no more.

Long they spoke that night and each had much to tell, but ere the end, Helluin mentioned that she had brought her friend hence to Eldalondë, for amongst all the Mortal Shores, here alone could she taste somewhat of the Immortal Lands in the West. The three Elves of the Lonely Isle nodded in understanding. For 16 centuries they and others like them had brought forth plants, birds, and the wares of Elvenhome to enrich the kingdom of the Dúnedain. And nowhere in all the land was any place so much like home as here. Beinvír spoke joyfully of the beauty of what she had seen and listened closely to their descriptions of their home. The images they created in her mind with their words made her shiver with awe as the sea called her heart ever west. All of them could hear the waves so close by and feel the great tides of life that moved therein. When the offer was made, Helluin was surprised that it was Luhtalle rather than Tuilendil that spoke the words.

"Beinvír, if thou would hath it so, thou may take ship with us and sail into the West, for the Nandor art in origin of the kindred of the Teleri, my people, and though sundered from us long ago, thy ancestors started upon the westward road. The Powers would allow thee to complete at last thy journey."

Helluin saw the excitement in her friend's eyes and felt the moment's gush of joy in her heart. _Make thy choice, meldis meldwain nin_**¹** she thought, _make thyself happy._ She held her breath, waiting to hear Beinvír's answer.

**¹**(**meldis** **meldwain nin, _my dearest _**_(female) **friend, meld**_(dear) + **_-wain_**(adj. superlative) + **_meldis_**(f. friend) + **_nin_**(my, 1st pers. sing. poss. pronoun) Sindarin)

Beinvír looked over into her friend's eyes and spoke silently to her.

_Would thou accompany me hence, forsaking thy concerns in Middle Earth for the bliss of the Undying Lands? Thou dwelt there once. Could thou be happy there with me now?_

_I would be happy with thee anywhere for I hath come to love thee, my dearest friend, but I cannot forsake the Hither Lands when so much evil threatens. I cannot leave all whom I know there in their time of greatest need. If thou would seek thy heart's desire, then go hence, and I shalt come after someday to find thee, but I know not how long shalt pass ere we meet again._

_Then I shalt seek my heart's desire._ And with that, Beinvír looked back to the three Elves of Tol Eressea and gave her answer.

"Much do I desire to see the Undying Lands and thy Blessed Isle, but yet more do I desire to remain with my friend, Helluin. Perhaps someday hence I shalt come across the sea, but for now we hath a part in a story and I cannot leave ere that story finds its end."

Luhtalle nodded in understanding and gave her a small smile.

For Helluin, Beinvír's words were more welcome than the opening of bright day on a cloudless, warm spring morn, when one comes thither from rest to the sweet singing of birds amidst a gentle, fragrant breeze. The Green Elf's choice spoke of love, for no other reason could bring one's heart to the decision she had made; to cleave to Helluin's own, forsaking even the Blessed Realm and the call of the sea. In 6,117 years, no other of any kindred had made so plain their feelings for her. The understanding brought tears to her eyes and her love for her friend grew even greater with the knowledge.

Arandil had not deigned to accompany her even upon her walks in Aman, remaining always with his king in Valmar or in the city upon Tuna. Veantur had joined her sailing to any destination, but he had never been tested with a choice so severe or a temptation so great. In her love he had already gained all his life's hopes could offer. But to stay with her, Beinvír had declined the very offer all Helluin's people had chosen to accept…the call to make their way into the West. _Twice to thee that call hath been renounced, by thy ancestors in thy blood and by the choice of thy heart,_ Helluin thought,_ that thou love me more than the Blessed Realm doth leave me weak, for in my selfish heart I had prayed thou would choose thus._

The next day they spent about the city, but at nightfall they rode forth into the lands of Nisimaldar to the south. There, amidst the trees of the Immortal Realm grew many shrubs and other plants, ever blooming and ever fragrant, and there too sang many birds of the Blessed Isle as well. Here they made a camp and Helluin had planned the time, for that night was Isil full in his glory above and the magick of Varda blossomed out with the stars. After their supper they sat with their backs against an embankment carpeted in soft moss, watching the moon rising to cast the pale beam of its light, silvery upon the waters in the distance to the west. Helluin had spent the time doting upon Beinvír and the Green Elf understood her, but still desired to forestall her increased attentiveness lest she come to feel stifled. She needed some space for that too was in her blood.

"Helluin," she said, "thou hast been minding me like a mother hen this last day, and while I appreciate thy sentiments, I pray thee, let things be as they hath been aforetime with respect to thy attentiveness. I shalt not break, I can carry my own bags and unsaddle my own horse."

Helluin looked at her, reviewing her own behavior, and realizing that what her friend said was true. Still, "I hath been preoccupied with making easier for thee the way, and though I know thee capable, yet still I desired to do for thee. Never hath any shown me how much they value me such as thou hast. I would do anything for thee."

The Green Elf smiled at her friend, yet felt the need to speak, for the thankfulness and rejoicing in their companionship was not one sided.

"In my first centuries, Adar and Naneth brought to me many young _ellyn_**¹** who sought my hand, and yet when I chose none and attached myself to the company of Dálindir, they understood my need to wander. For the next thousand years I made my way with them about Eriador and thought myself content. Yet in the last third of a century with thee, I hath seen places and beings beyond my dreams. Thou hast given me the world, Helluin, more so than even my king, and though we hath faced dangers, with thee I feel safe. But more than this, in no other's company hath I felt the fluttering of my heart nor the shivering amidst my spine as I do when I look into thy eyes, for in them I find myself lost, and in that loss I am found as never I thought to be. I should not leave thee for the world, Helluin; why then for but an island, no matter how pretty?"

**¹**(**ellyn,** generic term for male Elves, pl. Sindarin)

Helluin could only stare at her friend in wonder. Half the Noldor and Sindar feared her deadly wrath and yet Beinvír felt safe with her? She had created a dark weapon that had inspired the malice of Sauron himself, and still Beinvír was moved looking into her eyes? Helluin could find no words for her thankfulness or her amazement. All she could do was wrap her friend in her arms and hug her tight and let acceptance flood her heart. As they reclined thus, wrapped in each other's embrace, a pair of birds of a kind known upon the Lonely Isle, with plumage of powder grey and bright beaks of gold, alighted on a branch above to serenade them ere settling to their night's roost, and Helluin thought it a good sign.

Another day they spent in Nisimaldar ere they set out to return to Armenelos, and both would hold dear their memories of that place through the dark days that came after.

On 14 Hithui, (November 14th) S.A. 1601, the two Elves boarded an outbound ship called the _Valacirca_**¹** in Romenna for their return to Lindon. She was a far different vessel than the _Viava Laireo_, for she was a warship of the Queen's Navy.

**¹**(**Valacirca, _"Sickle of the Valar",_** (Ursa Major, the Great Bear). Sil., Ch..3, pg.45, and Index Quenya)

The _Valacirca_ measured 270 feet in length and her three masts seemed tall for her size. She was sleek and sturdy, a stiff, swift hull with canvas enough for a ship a third again her size. And if this were not yet enough, Helluin marked the furled studdingsails rigged to open at the sides of the mainsails where they would extend far beyond the sides of the hull. In a fair wind, this ship would fly!

She also marked the presence of four, forty-foot arms mounted on swivels, two each on the starboard and port sides. Each tapered arm pivoted near its thicker end, while the more slender end bore a net. Catapults, she realized! The ship mounted four artillery pieces, perhaps for coastal sieges. She saw also ballistae, giant crossbows, three per side, mounted between the catapults, and these, she understood were for use against other ships. Unlike the catapults, that would require furling the sails for clearance during use, these could be fired while underway. Never before had she seen such weapons mounted aboard a ship. There was one other feature of the _Valacirca_ she had never seen before; the steel sheathed prow.

"Imagine, Helluin, the effect of the mass of this vessel, running at well 'nigh 30 knots, striking amidships another vessel with that prow," Captain Baragund told her when she had asked about it. "We carry siege engines, but we art the battering ram."

The thought chilled Helluin to the core. No captain she had ever met would have willingly jeopardized his ship. The sailors she had known aforetime had been Men in love with the sea and with sailing upon it. Helluin thought of Veantur and Falmandil, Ciryandur and the many captains she had met at the Inn of the West Wind. She stood with Beinvír in the prow and watched the preparations to sail. Before she knew it, they were casting off.

But when _Valacirca_ began to move, Helluin realized that these sailors were more alike than unlike those she had previously known. Beneath the crisp orders and the practiced perfection of the crew's responses, these Men too loved the sea. At the bark of the mate's voice, sheets fell home in perfect synch on all three masts, dropping and bellying as one. And _Valacirca_ responded with the same eagerness as _Linte Eari_ had all those years ago. Ere they entered the greater Bay of Romenna she was topping 24 knots, still accelerating, and the excitement of the crew sizzled with her haste.

Indeed _Valacirca_ was making a speed run and her voyage was a trial, testing the ship, captain, and crew. Though the winds were not ideal, they held for the journey, and as Helluin had expected, the ship could fly. Upon their second afternoon out she heard the mate cry, "32 knots, my Lord Captain," and the crew of the watch cheered.

"Studdings'ls, fore 'n main," called the sailing master, and the four triangular sheets opened and caught the wind. The ship surged ahead yet faster.

Then moments later it seemed, the mate called out, "a hair o'er 36 knots, my Lord Captain." And now all held their breath for _Valacirca_ still gained speed.

"Wait two minutes and toss again thy line," Captain Baragund ordered, watching the sails and tilting his head to the wind.

With the crew the two Elves waited in anxious anticipation, and when the line had been tossed and drawn and the speed calculated, the mate cried, "Just nigh 39 knots, my Lord Captain."

"Enter it in thy log, Sailing Master," the captain ordered, "that upon this 15th day of Hithui, S.A. 1601, the Queen's Ship _Valacirca_ hath exceeded all prior speed a'sail."

That night, their second at sea, was the new moon, and the sky was dark save for the wealth of stars, and yet Helluin knew they shone now not quite so bright as they had in earlier Ages. Even so such nights were still dear, recalling to her the starlight of the Mortal Lands she had walked ere coming to Aman. And in token of this, she led Beinvír up to the top of the mainmast where they lay on their backs, high on the talan of the watch, looking up at the heavens in the dark. There in their windy, swaying perch 160 feet above the main deck, Helluin pointed out Menelmacar, the "Swordsman of the Heavens", (Orion), Anarríme, "Crown of the Sun", (Corona Borealis), Wilwarin, the "Fluttering Crown", (Cassiopeia), Lórocco, the "Sky Steed", (Pegasus), and the ship's namesake, Valacirca.

"And there too is thy star," Beinvír said, pointing to the blue fire of Helluin, (Sirius), that blazed from the heart of Ráca, "The Wolf", (Canis Major). "And it doth pale before thine eyes."

She turned to look into the blue but inches away at her side, letting herself sink into their depths in the darkness. Helluin looked just as carefully into the bright grey of Beinvír's eyes, noting the fire flecks of gold and silver that seemed to swim in their depths, like fragments of precious metals floating in a dome of night darkened basalt. In them she felt a measure of the connection she'd once felt in her vision a long, long time ago. Not quite the same, but akin to it, and yet unique, something exciting, familiar, and still all its own.

Beneath them the shrouds thumped and the wind whistled amidst the taught lines. A few mariners of the last watch sang, faint to their ears on the deck far below. But all faded in the moment. Beinvír rolled onto an elbow and looked down into Helluin's eyes.

"'Tis but one above and far," the Green Elf whispered, "and I am blessed with two close at hand. Dearer to me than Varda's own art thine, the work of Iluvatar himself."

Helluin thought the words sweeter than any sung in any Age, but the Laiquendi had once filled Ossiriand with the fair music of their voices. And her Fair Treasure would have put them all to shame. She reached up and stroked Beinvír's cheek with gentle fingers that had slain hundreds, and then, slipping her hand into the Green Elf's dark hair, urged her down. Closer…closer…and her eyes slipped closed.

Finding the softness of the lips poised above and exploring them with her own made her shiver and thirst for more. She stroked their full arches with the very tip of her tongue and nibbled on their silky bows. The kiss deepened and she felt herself falling into the arousal their contact enflamed within her. With both arms, Helluin pulled Beinvír's body full atop her own, and the elleth's form, light yet solid, clove to Helluin's, imparting heat in the contact as her hands, Elven sensitive, moved in a knowing caress.

Breaths quickened, blood raced, and consciousness focused to a point, like sunlight through a lens, even as it expanded. Hands left trails of fire upon skin sensitized by the teasing lash of the night wind. Their bodies grew breathless while barely moving, all from the exertion of their spirits. Higher and higher their excitement climbed, scaling paths of arousal to precipices jutting sharp o'er a void filled with blinding light. And willingly into that radiance they plunged, hand in hand while losing self, together into that sacred place gifted by the One to his Elder Children, where the _fëa_ lies unbounded even as it is bound to another. It seemed that when at last Helluin opened her eyes again, all the stars above flared with the brightness they had lost ere time dimmed their fires.

Upon the talan atop the towering mast, their _fëar_**¹** joined in that time as one; a melding that had been impossible for Helluin with Veantur, and unrealized with Arandil. 'Twas deeper than a turning thither of her heart. Here was another kind of love, not based on shared characteristics or time and place, but rather upon mutual concern proven o'er many, many years, and mutual devotion strong enough to challenge the passage of the Ages. It felt akin to the inevitable and slow revelation of events presaged in the Music of the Ainur ere Arda was formed. 'Twas that which Men called destiny. On that night, both believed that what they felt could withstand the fading of time and remain intact, though Arda itself fail and an end come at last of the First Song.

**¹**(**fëar_, spirits_** **_fëa_** + **_-r_**(pl.) Quenya)

Valacirca dropped anchor in Mithlond on 17 Hithui, for having averaged 19 knots, the ship had traveled the 1,900 sea miles from Númenor in but four days.

To Be Continued


	32. In An Age Before Chapter 32

**In An Age Before – Part 32

* * *

**

**Chapter Twenty-three**

_**Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

In the years following their embassy, Helluin and Beinvír roamed Eriador as they had aforetime and the decades passed in a tense peace over which hung a pall of encroaching doom. Only once ere the war were they summoned to Lindon, and this was in Ivanneth S.A. 1675, when a messenger found them camped amidst the wooded uplands that would be later called the Emyn Beraid, the Tower Hills of Arnor.

"Helluin Maeg-mormenel, thou art summoned to the council of the High King, and at thy own discretion thou art invited thither as well, Beinvír of the Laiquendi," he had said, adding, "I am instructed to lead thee thither at once."

With a groan they had packed their things and followed him down out of the hills, finding again a company on horseback. 'Twas but twenty leagues to Mithlond, and from there they had gone by boat to Forlond and the king's court. Indeed, Gil-galad met them in the courtyard.

"Helluin, Beinvír, I am glad thou hath come," Gil-galad had said without a trace of irony, though the glint in his eye gave Helluin cause to be apprehensive, "it so happens that there is a matter I should present to thee both."

He had led them straightaway to his study, the very same room in which they had met Celebrimbor 74 years before. This time the visitor who awaited them was even less expected. Indeed upon seeing him, Helluin had gagged and felt the floor lurch. Beinvír had steadied her with two hands and given her a worried look. _He's tall, cute, blond…ex-lover perhaps,_ she had wondered. But the truth was even more incredible.

"But…but…you're dead!" Helluin had croaked. Beinvír gasped. The ellon Helluin was slowly backing away from had chuckled and risen to greet them, or more rightly, greet Helluin. He and Beinvír had never met.

_"Aunten andave,"_ he said, barely able to keep from laughing at the expression of disbelief on Helluin's face. He added in his musical voice, _"Utúlien at_**¹**

**¹**("**Aunten andave", _"I went away for a long time",_** past imperf.** "Utúlien at", _"I hath just come back", _**past near perf. Quenya)

"But…you fell…" Helluin stammered, still not believing her eyes.

"And a long way down it was too," he confirmed, "Thorn Sîr…yes, I remember the fall but thankfully not the landing. I was surely dead by then."

It took some time for Helluin to regain her composure, but eventually she had been able to introduce her old friend to Beinvír, though still not fully believing he was present.

"Beinvír, this is Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin," she had said, "or at least he was when last I knew him. Glorfindel, this is Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador, _ar meldanya_**¹**."

**¹**(**ar** **meldanya, _"and my beloved"_** **_ar_** (and) + **_melda _**(beloved) + **_-nya _**(my, 1st pers sing poss suffix) Quenya. Note: **melethril, _female_** **_lover,_** is the Sindarin equivalent of the Quenya, **melisse**, whereas **melda **doesn't signify a specific gender)

Beinvír thought she was doing well to have clasped his hand in greeting without passing out. Glorfindel appeared disturbingly normal. His hand felt warm and solid in her own. But he was returned from the dead, his _fëa_ released into a reconstructed _hroa_ after 1,780 years in the Halls of Mandos.

_I swear he looks unchanged from the Gates of Summer in F.A. 510 ere the city fell_, Helluin had commented silently to Beinvír,_ I still cannot believe it._

Eventually they had sat and the king had said, "Lord Glorfindel comes hither from the Undying Lands to aid in our struggles against the Lieutenant of Angband. The Powers hath only recently granted him dispensation to cross the Sundering Sea. I hath given him what background I can, but thou, Helluin, hath more firsthand knowledge of the Enemy than any other. Also, thou were once comrades in arms long ago. I hath summoned thee hither to brief Lord Glorfindel and to provide any assistance to him thou can."

It made sense. Whereas Gil-galad and Glorfindel had never met, Helluin had known the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower in Aman, ere the Exile of the Noldor. They had both lived for centuries in the city of Gondolin, serving Gil-galad's uncle, King Turgon. And they were more nearly contemporaries, whereas the son of Fingon was millennia younger than either of them, High King though he was.

And so Helluin spent many days in Forlond, at the court of the king, speaking with Glorfindel and poring o'er maps. Oft times Elrond would join them, ever curious and ready with a question. He came to be comfortable with them both in that time, spending thus more hours in Helluin's presence than ever before. Having known him off and on all his life, she was impressed at his font of knowledge and wondered if he had indeed read every book in Lindon, as Gil-galad had once claimed. The king had spoken thus in jest to Helluin one afternoon, but she had perceived the pride in his voice for the young Peredhel's growing wisdom. Following the short time spent with Maedhros and Maglor, Gil-galad had taken Elrond into his house, treating him as the son he'd never had. In the coming years, the brother of Elros would carry heavy responsibilities on behalf of his king.

Beinvír came to like the reincarnated _Elda_**¹**, for Glorfindel was noble and kind, with a sharp sense of humor and a strong sense of duty. He treated her ever with respect, and at times told her stories of the Hidden City, of Beleriand, and of the Undying Lands. These tales were oft as not of Helluin, much to Beinvír's delight, for coaxing them from her friend was much like squeezing gold from a Dwarf. In return, Glorfindel also asked her many questions about her people, whom he'd met only briefly, once early in the 1st Age at a great feast, yet had heard much about from the Sindar in Nevrast. Days passed into weeks, and then a month came and went. Now 'twas Narbeleth and the leaves were changing.

**¹**(**Elda, _Elf,_** particularly one of the Calaquendi, sing. Quenya)

"The years grow short and war will soon come," he said one afternoon as the three sat in a quiet garden in Lindon, "and ere all these lands host the ruin of battle, I should like to see them while still green and free. I should like to breathe the air of Middle Earth and walk in forests far beyond Beleriand that I knew." He looked from Helluin to Beinvír with a clear and steady gaze. "Would thou consent to take me upon a short excursion, a tour of sorts, about Eriador? I know thou art accustomed to traveling together alone, yet for a short time, a month perhaps, could thou endure my company? I should prefer it ever so much to a mounted escort of two dozen from Forlond," he confessed.

"In truth we hath abided here longer than ever before," Beinvír admitted. "Autumn is a fine season in this land and I feel myself yearning for open spaces and forests."

"And I as well," Helluin agreed. "I should like to be gone ere the king discerns some embassy or errand to lay upon me such as he deems no other so fit for," she said with the hint of a grin. "And I should much enjoy thy company, Glorfindel. We hath not had leave to walk the land since ere we left Vinyamar, you and I, and I would hath thee gain thy first impressions of Eriador in my company. What say thou, _meldanya?_"

"I too would enjoy thy company, Glorfindel," Beinvír said. She glanced up and eyed the westering afternoon sun. 'Twas already too late to comfortably take their leave that day. "Shalt we set out then on the morrow?"

They quickly agreed on that course, planning to be gone a month.

"I shalt go thence to the king and explain our plans this evening," Helluin said.

"Nay, perhaps 't'would be better if I were to do thus," Glorfindel offered, "for 'tis at my request that we go forth, and in any case, Gil-galad still seems willing to grant me somewhat of his indulgence. I do believe he remains awed at my circumstance." He grinned.

"So be it then, my friend," Helluin said, and Beinvír nodded in agreement.

They set out the next morn at sunrise, walking first to the quays to board a boat for Harlond. After crossing the Gulf of Lune, they paid their respects to Cirdan and Galdor and others of the Lords of the Sindar there, and then set out again afoot to the east. They walked Harlindon in peace, following the Ered Luin northwards until they passed into Eriador near the very hills where Helluin and Beinvír had first been summoned to Lindon.

There they made a camp and spent several days, for riders came from the Havens of Mithlond that lay but 35 miles west. In that company were Sindarin Elves, some of Cirdan's people, and some mariners of Númenor, enjoying their hosts' hospitality for a time of hunting. The once Elf of Gondolin was highly impressed by the lordliness of the Dúnedain, for in Beleriand, he had met very few Men. The Númenóreans were completely astonished at him. Gondolin was a legend to the Dúnedain, the home of Tuor and Idril, the grandparents of their first king, and Glorfindel's tale was known to them. They stayed two nights 'nigh the trio's camp, forgetting entirely their search for beasts in favor of tales and lore told first-hand. All of them harkened to his words like schoolchildren, though great mariners they were.

When they left the hills the trio traveled east, passing o'er rows of downs and entering a central land of green and rolling hills mixed with open woods. This land, (which would one day comprise the Shire), was populated in those days only by a few Men of Eriador, and wandering companies of Laiquendi. One of these they met, a group of about two dozen, encamped in the lee of a low hill beside a pleasant stream.

The Green Elves greeted them with a warm welcome, crowding around Beinvír at first to hear tidings of her adventures. Indeed some of this company she knew from long before, and others had acquaintances in common with her, so there was much news to share. The biggest revelation though, was Beinvír's account of the fate of Dálindir, whom none had seen in centuries. She recounted the tale in full, with Helluin adding details and Glorfindel listening in amazement. The Green Elves were shocked. Some wept and all were sorrowful. They unanimously agreed that the falls of the Withywindle should remain afterwards unvisited. When they left, they would spread the word. And that night they sang laments for their lost king until the sun rose the next morning.

Late in the night, with the melancholy strains of the Laiquendi floating on the cool air, Helluin and Glorfindel walked away from the gathering around the fire, climbing up over the hill to its far side where the firelight could not be seen. There they sat in the drying grass looking up at the sky. After a while, Glorfindel lay back, the easier to see the stars o'erhead, and he lay there for a long time in silence as if counting those stark points of light. Helluin too lay down, one ear listening to the faint sounds of singing from o'er the hill, the other waiting for her friend to speak. From of old she knew he tended to silence and contemplation when the mood came upon him, and though it had been a long, long time since she had last awaited his words, she had not forgotten.

"Helluin, the sky looks to my eyes faded from when I really saw it last in Middle Earth," he declared softly, "and though I saw it every night in Lindon, I never truly saw it until tonight. There is something about being in the open, in free and wild lands, which makes all the world come alive to the senses. 'Twas not the same in Aman. Here 'tis only Varda's lights that kindle in the sky above, not some radiance of the Undying Realm, or some luminosity of the Valar that lies upon the land. I think the same was true in Gondolin. I last truly saw the night sky from Nevrast ere we came to the Hidden City. Doth thou remember that night?"

"I do," Helluin replied, recalling the memory. "'Twas on the third night returning to Vinyamar from the Mereth Aderthad nigh Eithel Ivrin; a night much like this one when Tilion came not bearing Isil to light the heavens. Those of us who had accompanied Turgon had crossed the Ered Wethrin, but had remained in the highlands above the Marshes of Nevrast, south of Linaewen. That night we walked away from the camp, just the two of us, higher up into the hills to see the stars. They were so bright then, still undimmed by the passing years, each with its own color and brightness."

"And the sky, like inky velvet one could almost reach out and feel," Glorfindel said wistfully, "so deep and so dense, as it had weight and a texture and a presence. 'Twas majestic." He fell silent again, looking upwards. For a long time he remained so. Indeed Helluin wondered if more was forthcoming, but he had just begun.

"Thou know'st how a fire burns, my friend, catching quickly, burning fierce, then passing to embers and finally to ash?" Helluin nodded. "So too doth Arda progress Age unto Age in its life's story. I feel 'tis progressing now from a blaze to a bed of coals, the flowering of all things wilting, its high tide ebbing with time, and its slow decline begun. The intensity of all things is diminished; the depth of the darkness, the brightness of the stars, the purity of good and evil, the strength of our spirits. In the slow passing of the years is the vitality of the world sapped, and it happens so subtly that even to such as we, it creeps upon us at unawares, save at times of reflection such as these when, comparing what is with the memories of what was, we note a difference at last. Never again shalt the stars possess the poignant wonder they once had, riveting the attention in awe of what the Valar had wrought. All things dim and ever further shalt they fade." He sighed.

"I had noted the dimming of the stars, my friend. Upon the sea I gazed again up at them and found not their first brilliance. It saddens me, to think the morning and noontime gone and the afternoon passing eventually to dusk. Yet we art immortal," Helluin said, "and we shalt endure the fading of the world."

"We art no different," Glorfindel agreed, but he saw the same truth in a different light. "Since the coming of the sun and moon we hath entered upon a path of fading. You see, I deem we art experiments; created to answer the question, whether 'tis better to live as a few with immortal life like the Eldar, or as many constantly renewed through death and birth as art Men. The time of our part in the experiment is coming to its close. The weight of memory becomes ever more a burden, crushing us eventually. The very act of living drains the _fëa_, but quicker still, it sublimates the _hroa_. We cannot stay ever in Mortal Lands. We shalt pass either into the West, or into oblivion."

"I had thought only about the gradual tiring of the spirit, deeming the body a house immortal," she said, "and thou believe rather that the _hroa_ is more at risk."

"The _hroa_ is a physical entity, made of the stuff of Arda and subject to the effects of time. Thus 'tis subject to being drained. The _fëa_ is undying, a creation of the One, and I myself am the proof. As such, 'tis subject to being weighed down and o'erburdened. Yet 'tis the way things were meant to be, Helluin. In the First Song was all presaged, and so the world runs on to its conclusion, the struggle's final end in the Dagor Dagorath, which, mind thou, shalt be championed by a Man avenged." At this assertion, Helluin raised an eyebrow in question, but Glorfindel passed on to another topic without elaborating.

"I came back to aid in the struggle that hath continued from of old, for 'tis the same war. Nay, not the same enemy, but certainly the same goal; always there shalt be a new face or a new name upon it, but the malice and evil, and the disregard for the lives of others is unchanging. Did not dissension mar each movement of the Song? Ever shalt there be contention arising anew, but one day we shalt not be here to fight it, for it shalt no longer be our fight, just as this shalt no longer be our world. The Firstborn's time is passing and shalt find its end in the ascendancy of the Younger Children of Iluvatar. This is known."

"Yes, 'tis known, and yet the when is not. And I know that there art some forces that tie one to the world. I still hath a fondness for the Hither Lands, or perhaps an affinity for the change that comes here. Ever hath my spirit sought adventure, yet I know not from whence such an impulse arose. I know I felt it all the days I passed in Aman. It keeps me here still. And now there is yet more…"

Glorfindel chuckled. "I believe I shalt be able to discern the proper time of my leaving. I hope thou shalt not overstay thy welcome in the world, Helluin, for thou hast long been drawn to combat, and combat shalt go on forever. The desire to fight one more battle or right one more wrong shalt tempt thee to stay indefinitely so long as the anger that drives thee yet lives. Thy wanderlust I deem thou were born with, and that shalt tempt thee too. And I fear yet more for thee for another reason."

Helluin turned to him and again quirked an eyebrow in question. Now Glorfindel turned from the stars to look into her eyes ere he continued.

"Helluin, I knew thee in Gondolin and before that in Aman. I knew thy brother too. You know I understand the source of thy darkness and what drives thee in battle. I see thee now with Beinvír and I am happy for thee both. But I cannot imagine what would come to pass should some doom befall her and leave thou alive, tied then to the world by yet another bond of heartache and memory."

Glorfindel's words very nearly made Helluin choke. It was her worst nightmare.

"She refused passage to Tol Eressea to stay with me," Helluin whispered. And after a pause, she added even more softly, "I would bathe this world in blood to avenge her."

After this they again fell silent, each thinking and staring up at the stars, and so the night passed away into memory.

The trio wandered Eriador for three more weeks, going as they wished, without schedule or destination. But finally Helluin and Beinvír brought Glorfindel to Harlond on 11 Hithui, and then they took their leave. They spent the next 20 years roaming Eriador and expecting war.

To Be Continued


	33. In An Age Before Chapter 33

**In An Age Before - Part 33

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**

In early Gwaeron, (March), S.A. 1695, the first warnings came from a company of Sindar wandering in southern Minhiriath 'nigh Glanduin. The season for campaigning had begun with winter just past, and now as of old it was the time of the year for war. The Sindar had seen clouds of dust rising in the distance toward the pass between the Hithaeglir and the Ered Nimrais. It had made them suspicious and tense with foreboding, but when they'd gone to investigate, the reality had been yet worse than anything they had imagined. Rather than companies of Enedwaith as they'd expected, they had seen a host of Yrch, the Glamhoth vanguard of a great army of invasion. They had fled in terror lest outriders or scouts catch them and they become a meal.

Splitting into two bands allowed the Sindar to report to both the nearest Elvish settlement and to their lord, Cirdan. Their words had come to Eregion a few days later. Within a week the tidings had been heard in Mithlond and Lindon as well. In Ost-In-Edhil, Celebrimbor immediately sent word to Khazad-dum, and from there the alarm passed to King Amdír in Lórinand, where Celeborn and Galadriel had stayed after returning from Greenwood.

The warning spread too amongst such other free peoples of Eriador, Men, other wandering Sindar, and the scattered Laiquendi as could be found. Sauron was invading! His armies had left Mordor and come northwest at last. Reaching Lindon at almost the same time as the hastening Sindar came mariners, Nandor out of Belfalas, telling of a great march of at least two hosts out of the Black Land. They had issued from the Morannon, marching from Udûn with great store of weapons and gear, and wagons loaded with provisions, crossing Anduin at Cair Andros and making their way thence westward through the open lands just north of the White Mountains. The vanguard of Glamhoth alone had numbered 25,000. The main host was at least twice that count, and in it marched many Easterling Men. And they came on as if the whips of Mordor were at their backs.

Having known for a century that Sauron would attack still left the peoples of Eriador unprepared for the swiftness of the onslaught. In Lindon, Gil-galad franticly called for all his people to assemble, already knowing Eregion would be besieged ere he could come to their aid. In desperation he dispatched Elrond thither to aid Celebrimbor, leading every warrior who could be horsed within two days. It was scarcely two thousand cavalry that went, and they had a ride of nigh on 265 leagues ere they came to the battle.

The same night he heard the news the High King took pen and parchment, and he wrote the plea he had long anticipated sending. A rider delivered the missive to Mithlond in greatest haste, nearly running three horses to death to cover the 70 leagues from Forlond. At noon the next day, Gil-galad stood with Gildor and Glorfindel, watching as a grey ship plied the waters of the Gulf of Lune, heading west for Númenor. _Well 'nigh a fortnight sailing to reach Romenna, _he thought,_ weeks to mobilize, and then at least a week for their armada to return. Then they too must ride east to Eregion. We must hold the Enemy for closer to a season ere their strength can avail us in battle._ Rather it would be five long years ere the King's Ships landed in the Hither Lands.

While Gil-galad worried about strategy and allies, Glorfindel wondered where his old friend might be. War had come again, and amongst the Host of Gondolin there had been none so fell or so fearsome to the enemy as Helluin Maeg-mormenel. Deep down the high king feared her; Glorfindel had sensed this, and though Gil-galad seldom mentioned Helluin, that fact alone proved his point. With a war looming, she should have been a regular member of his counsel and certainly a part of his army. She was neither.

The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower suspected that Helluin and Beinvír were wandering Eriador somewhere as was their habit, and he hoped they were far from the invasion force. And most of all he hoped Beinvír was safe. Much as he had come to like the elleth, he feared for her safety because of what her death would do to his old friend.

_I would bathe this world in blood to avenge her._

More than 300 Yrch and a dozen Tor had died at her hand in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and that on the fourth day and half the fifth, the only span in which the Gondolindrim had fought on the field. There the darkness had possessed Helluin, driving her to a level of violence previously unimaginable to the Eldar. She had neither rested nor supped and she had ignored all orders. Lost in the depths of her wrath, she had known only her bloodlust, her sword, and the enemy. All because the malice of Feanor and his sons had led to her younger brother's death 490 years before. 1,840 years later her own king feared her because of the old stories about her mania. Glorfindel shook his head and went to his chambers to check again the arms and armor he had brought from the Blessed Realm.

In fact Helluin and Beinvír had been camped upon the South Downs, and from those heights they had espied the hastening Sindar bearing word of the invasion to Eregion. Such a thing, eight Grey Elves fleeing east as if pursued, was not to be ignored. Helluin and Beinvír had quickly marched to intercept them. On 10 Gwaeron, (March 10th), they met the band upon the road, 50 miles northwest of the confluence of the Mitheithel and Glanduin. The Sindar were very nearly in panic and they shied at seeing the two Elves standing before them in the middle of the road. Helluin hailed them when they stopped 30 yards away and reached for their weapons.

"Hail and well met, my friends. Wherefore doth thy haste take thee?" She asked.

"Stand not before us, nor stay us from our urgency, stranger," the foremost of them called out as the others fitted arrows to their bows, "our errand cannot wait."

Helluin moved her armored figure before Beinvír, making herself a shield in case they fired, but the Green Elf had an arrow in her own bow trained on the leader's right eye.

"I seek not to stay thee, only to ask whether any assistance I may offer," Helluin replied, "therefore I pray thee, stand down. If thou art pursued by foes we may aid thee. I am Helluin Maeg-mormenel of the Host of Finwe, friend to Cirdan and Gil-galad and Celebrimbor. Thou know me or know of me, I wager. But if thou fire upon us I shalt surely slay thee all and thy errand shalt die with thee."

The Grey Elves quickly whispered amongst themselves and then relaxed their bows but lowered them not. Again the leader spoke.

"I hath heard of thee indeed, but none here know thee. Yet if thou truly be Helluin Maeg-mormenel, show us thy weapons, for by them we shalt know thee."

Here Helluin drew Anguirel and lifted the Sarchram from her waist. The black blade spoke as she held it up, its heartless voice ringing across the distance to the ears of the Grey Elves who shuddered to hear it.

"Doth thou offer me the blood of these Sindar? I hath tasted naught of it since Avernien and gladly shalt I drink of it now."

And the Grave Wing said, "And so too shalt I drive their spirits unto the Void."

So horrified were the Sindar that one even dropped the arrow from his trembling fingers. The leader lowered his bow and the others followed.

"Indeed we art pursued, but so too art all in this land, and no aid can thou give against this enemy's numbers. We hasten to Eregion to bring tidings to Celebrimbor. The armies of Sauron art come upon us and we hath seen their vanguard not two days ago. I pray thee, delay us no further from our errand."

At his words Helluin replaced her weapons and Beinvír lowered her bow. Both were shocked by the words they'd heard. So Sauron had come at last.

"Wither did thou see them? In what direction did they march? Of what kind were they? By thy guess, what was their count?" Helluin asked by reflex.

"We saw legions of the Glamhoth of Morgoth entering Enedwaith, issuing from the pass betwixt Hithaeglir and Ered Nimrais. They were turning north, skirting the foothills of Methedras and moving fast. 'Tis a host as of old…as in the Elder Days."

"Two days ago," Helluin mused to Beinvír, "and now they art perhaps 65 or 70 leagues from Ost-In-Edhil. An ten-day march and another day to order their companies for battle. They shalt first assault Eregion. Sauron comes for the Rings." She turned to her friend who was wide-eyed at the Grey Elves' tidings and said, "Come, let us stand aside for these messengers. No aid against such numbers can we give such as would change the final outcome."

Then she called forth to the Sindar, "Hasten thou on thy way for thy tidings must be heard. Thy pardon I beg for delaying thee thus. Pray tell, hast word been sent hence to Lindon as well?"

The leader called out in answer, "Indeed the other half of our company even now hastens to warn those in Lindon. They should come to Cirdan in Harlond in four days."

Helluin and Beinvír had moved to the side of the road and the Sindar approached them warily. The Elves nodded to each other in acknowledgment as they passed, but none on either side smiled in warmth or greeting. Soon the Grey Elves were out of sight and the quiet peace of the land resumed. The two friends stood alone as if the meeting had been but a dream.

_Now would be a good time to be in Númenor,_ Beinvír said silently to Helluin as she caught her eyes, _perhaps thy king has such an errand upon which to send thee?_

_No doubt,_ Helluin replied,_ but t'would be to Eregion, I wager, or perhaps to Mordor as a spy. I think I shalt keep well clear of Lindon for a century or two, meldis nin. Sauron shalt assault first Ost-In-Edhil, then Lindon. He hast come for the Three, no doubt. Only an idiot would look elsewhere, and Gorthaur is no fool._

_So then whither shalt we go?_

_To Ost-In-Edhil, of course,_ Helluin said with a glint in her eye. Beinvír's eyes widened in alarm. Helluin gave her a reassuring grin. _We shalt be there a few hours at most, days ahead of the enemy, and only to convince Celebrimbor to leave. I am in part guilty of setting him on his course towards ring making and the empowerment of objects, for the Sarchram was the first. I cannot leave him to Sauron. You see, Celebrimbor will think himself safe so long as he withholds the secret of the disposition of the Three, and he might even believe Sauron values his mastery of crafts. But Sauron shalt slay him, for he values him not, having already exceeded him in craft, and of the Three, he shalt soon guess where they reside. He goes only to make sure they abide not still in Eregion._

Helluin and Beinvír came to Ost-In-Edhil in the evening of 13 Gwaeron, and found it in a panic. The gate was closed tight and the guards held them at arrow point, demanding their names and business from the ramparts above the gate arch. When they were finally admitted they discovered they had been preceded by the Sindar only two hours before. These were in the White Tower, speaking with Celebrimbor. Helluin demanded audience with the Lord of Eregion, but had to be satisfied when the Captain of the Guard sent a messenger thither.

_If he doth not make haste I shalt slay him myself and no worries of facing Gorthaur shalt he need,_ Helluin fumed silently.

_Peace, my friend,_ Beinvír said, trying to sooth her.

_If we cannot see him this eve, I shalt take thee and make haste northwest. I shalt not tarry here while Sauron's army draws nigh. This city is a death trap. If these guards try to constrain me I shalt wash these walls in their blood._

She got up and began pacing to and fro, making the guards yet more nervous. Beinvír sighed and sat still, closing her eyes and letting her mind float off into a memory of the land of Nisimaldar in far off Númenor. She remained thus absent for some time. Finally, after another hour, during which Helluin had taken to upsetting the guards yet further by performing sword drills on the causeway outside the guardhouse, the messenger returned with word from Celebrimbor, summoning Helluin and Beinvír hence at once.

_About damn time, _Helluin chaffed as she strode through the streets toward the White Tower. Beside her, Beinvír hastened to keep up and the guard accompanying them was practically running. When they arrived, Helluin pushed her way past the herald at the door, at this point caring nothing for protocol. It seemed Celebrimbor was of like mind.

"I know who she is," he called out in a harried tone. "Helluin, never hath I been so glad to see thee. Thy arrival is too timely to be coincidence. I wager thou know'th our peril?"

"I know thy peril," Helluin began while still some yards away, "and Eregion would likely be ignored were thou absent. Sauron comes for thee and thy treasure. 'Tis time to leave, son of Curufin."

She had made her way to face him, Beinvír a step behind, and the two Noldor looked each other in the eyes, speaking their secrets in silence.

_Thou know I cannot leave, Helluin, though thy counsel be sound. Were it not for the Three, Sauron would assail Lindon for to deprive our people of their king. And there he should recover two whereas coming hither he shalt recover none. I find I am the decoy._

_Thy ploy shalt buy but scant time, Celebrimbor. Surely thou can see that? He need only find thou hast them not ere he slay thee and make thence his war upon Gil-galad. Thy life and the lives of thy folk shalt buy the king a month at most. Weeks more likely. Hardly worthwhile._

_Helluin, I hath four, maybe five days ere Ost-In-Edhil is laid under siege and Eregion invested. 'Tis not time enough to evacuate all. Some at least must stand and fight, delaying Sauron so the rest can make good their flight. Surely thou can see that?_

_I do not! Thy folk, all who would consent, can hasten to Khazad-dum and thence to Rhovanion and Greenwood should there be no welcome for so many in Lórinand. The West Gate thou wrought with Narvi stands but a day's march east. Thou hast friends there who would admit thee, and beyond Hithaeglir yet more friends who would succor thee and thy people. Go, I pray thee._

_And bring down Gorthaur on those innocent realms yonder? Nay! I shalt not lead the Cruel One to the Doors of Durin! I hath too great a love of its people. Nor shalt I lead him thither to the free realms of Amdír or Oropher. His war is upon the Noldor…and upon me. _

_His war is upon all in Middle Earth who bow not to him! Hast it not always been thus? So it was with his master in Beleriand! Thou art the start; the thralldom of all is the end. He shalt come against all realms in his time whether thou live or die this day. Choose life! Flee, Celebrimbor, live to fight another day._

_Helluin, I cannot._ At last all the logic and reasoning went out of the argument and finally they spoke of the real reasons for the decision he had made._ Would thou leave behind all the achievements of thy life to prolong it yet a while? Would thou leave behind that which thou love and which shalt not be again? Would thou live on in a world diminished by the loss of all thou hold dear? I shalt not. Rather would I die defending my own and bow not to Sauron by giving him leave to separate me from my heart without contest. Helluin, thou know some things made once cannot be made again, even were the same hand to assay the task, for the heart of the creator is in them and can only be given once, much as to each child in a family is a measure of love given unto that child alone. I understand at last my grandfather's doom._

_And he was wrong, Celebrimbor! Feanor brought doom not only upon himself, but also upon all his family, nay, upon all his people, for that love of which thou speak. Join him not upon that path, my friend! I pray thee. Despite irreplaceable loss, thou shalt craft great works in the years ahead, and thou shalt not save those thou hast made here by staying. Please…._

But Celebrimbor shook his head. He looked once more into Helluin's eyes and said, _A long road we hath come from that day thou threatened to slay me should I betray thy friends 'neath the mountains, eh, mellon nin? We hath come to know much of one another in the last millennium. Fear not for me, Helluin. My life hast been in the works of my hands. My spirit hath flowed hence and I am thus diminished. To me, all else appears now grey, no longer bright and fresh; for me, Arda hast paled. I know thou feel some responsibility for the path onto which I hath ventured. Much of my later direction was presaged in the creation of thy Sarchram, was it not?_ He gave her a sad smile.

At this, Helluin could only nod in agreement and lower her eyes in shame. But Celebrimbor reached out to her and lifted her chin so she again looked him in the face.

_No fault do I ascribe to thee, Helluin, though Gil-galad may deem it otherwise. _He chuckled. _As for me, I honor thee for all thou hast done. Thou paved the way for my friendship with the Naugrim, my allies and brothers in craft, and thou inspired the creation of my greatest works. No craftsman could ask more of a patron. And yet thou tried to warn me of Annatar too, and now thou hast come hither, despite thy own peril, to try to convince me to flee…to save my life though I hath led our enemy to us with war. I bid thee flee, Helluin. Save thyself and thy beloved. Thou hast yet many battles to fight._

In that moment, Helluin knew Celebrimbor would never leave Ost-In-Edhil alive. She would find no argument to sway him. More like to his grandfather in the end was he than had any suspected. The thought made her sad. Perhaps in another world, she would hath felt such sympathy for Feanor too. Yet whereas Feanor had been violent in his passions and had cared little for others, his grandson was even-tempered and considerate, though no less decisive. He was much easier to like and much more deserving of respect. Helluin nodded to him, accepting his decision and he sighed with relief.

"If there art any ready to take flight from the city, I would beseech thee to lead them hence, for few know the ways of Eriador as do thou," Celebrimbor said, "but tarry not here awaiting their preparations, my friend. Convey hence only those already prepared to leave."

"I shalt do so, my friend," Helluin said. For the last time she clasped his hand and found his grip firm and steady. "Perhaps we shalt meet someday upon the Further Shores."

He offered her a smile, saying, "I shalt await thee, for I deem thy tale shalt be long and interesting to hear." Then he turned to speak with others concerning the defense.

**To Be Continued**


	34. In An Age Before Chapter 34

**In An Age Before – Part 34

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**

Helluin and Beinvír ended up spending the night in Ost-In-Edhil. At first light they led forth three hundreds of the citizens who desired to flee to Lindon. They hastened from the walled city on that spring day and no clue to the coming bloodshed could any discern in their surroundings. The air was warm, the breeze pleasant, and the sun shone bright upon the peaks of Caradhras, Fanuidhol, and Celebdil that stood o'er Hadhodrond to the east. Birds sang in the branches of trees along the road. The Elves spoke little for they were o'erborne with uncertainty and fear, but they kept order and proceeded at a good pace. 25 leagues to the south, the army of Sauron closed in at a rate of 30 miles a day.

At the crossing of the Glanduin their company was joined by another five hundred fleeing the lands of Eregion outside the city. They too were an ordered group with few carrying more than necessary. These, Helluin thought, were the smart ones and those most likely to survive. Later would come the indecisive, those unable to leave behind their goods, and those who had first chosen denial of the threat. Their choices might cost them their lives. Helluin had no way of knowing how wide a front the enemy maintained, or how far afield their scouts moved. In another day or two, refugees might well be harried or taken by the advance companies of the Glamhoth. Helluin pitied such unfortunates, for they would most likely be tormented for sport, cruelly slain, and then tossed to the troops as rations. Knowing this, she drove the refugees forward for the next three days until she could overhear them cursing her. It brought a smile to her lips. _They hath yet the energy to curse,_ she thought,_ and so I know I am not pushing them beyond their means._ By then they were a week and 175 miles from Ost-In-Edhil, upon the road and midway between Glanduin and Baranduin. She let them slow to 20 miles a day.

As the eight hundred refugees drew nigh the River Baranduin three days later, a rising cloud of dust was sighted in the distance, coming down the road from the west. Helluin gathered all those with any arms and brought them to the front of the column. The rest of the refugees she bid hide themselves in the woods north of the road. Then with 150 archers, she arranged a _thangail pengorin him gwilorl ecthelingin_**¹ **andwaylaid the road against whatever might assail them.

**¹**(**Thangail pengorin him gwilorl ecthelingin, **lit.trans. **_Army of bowmen constantly shooting arrows"_** A formation (_thangail, _army in wall-formation) of archers, four or more ranks deep, sufficient to produce a continuous volley of arrows directed at a target. Sindarin)

It was against a thicket of bowmen that Elrond rode with his cavalry, and seeing them from two furlongs blocking the road five ranks deep, he called his column to a halt a furlong from their lines and dismounted to parley with those ahead. It was traditional procedure, but unnecessary, for he rode forth under the banner of Gil-galad.

"_Echádo tovon i-pengath!_**¹**" Helluin ordered, and her troops stood down.

**¹**(**Echádo tovon i-pengath, **lit trans. _"Make low all the bows!"_ ver.trans. **_"Lower all the bows!"_** Sindarin)

Helluin and Elrond met at the midpoint between the cavalry and the lines of archers. It was the first time she had seen the Peredhel in a full suit of plate armor, gleaming like polished silver in the spring sun. He was girt with a longsword, but had left his spear with his horse. By contrast, Helluin was dressed in a travel stained grey-green cloak that covered her black battle dress and armor. Very nearly the only bright metal she carried was the Sarchram, and that was hidden 'neath her dingy fabric. She looked very much like a beggar.

"Helluin, I should hath expected that were anyone to form an army so soon after the invasion of Sauron t'would be thou," Elrond declared with a smile. Helluin laughed. "Pray tell, where did thou recruit them and whither doth thou march?"

"In Ost-In-Edhil, my Lord Elrond. Indeed these art those of the refugees who hath their hunting bows with them. Another 650 art hiding unarmed in the woods north of the road. We art bound for Lindon. Doth thou ride to Eregion?"

"Indeed so," Elrond said. "What can thou tell me of conditions there?"

"We art ten days out from the city. When we left, the enemy was but five days or less away. By now, I deem, Ost-In-Edhil stands besieged by an army of 25,000 or more. Thou shalt not break the siege with thy cavalry. I wager the city shalt stand but a week or two."

"Defenders?"

"No more than 3,000. Perhaps 1,800 archers upon the walls. The rest swordsmen."

"And Celebrimbor?"

"He refused to flee."

Elrond sighed and fell silent. Ost-In-Edhil might well fall ere he could even arrive. By now the way thither was probably held against him in force across a wide front held by many enemies with yet more to arrive soon. According to the reports from the Nandor of Belfalas, his cavalry was outnumbered by over 35 to 1. His wry sense of humor did not miss the fact that he had been halted upon the road by 150 refugee archers. Helluin's voice broke him from his brooding.

"Lord Elrond, where art Glorfindel and Gil-galad and the other lords and knights of Lindon? And hath word been sent across the sea to Númenor?"

"Word hath surely been sent thither, Helluin. I came with the vanguard; all who could be mounted in two days. The king waits on the mustering of Lindon and then he shalt come with greater force as soon as may be."

Helluin nodded. The strength of Lindon, both Noldor and Sindar, would probably comprise no more than another 12,000 on horse and afoot. Mostly infantry, they would be slower to muster and slower to travel. It might be another two weeks or more ere they stood here.

Elrond felt his errand a doomed cause, and yet he had his orders. And every moment he stayed his ride but made the situation worse.

"We must be on our way, Helluin," he said, "and perhaps to do little more than harry the enemy's flanks. Yet they should not take all of Eregion uncontested, and many shalt be occupied in breaking the city. We must ride."

Helluin stood aside with her archers and Elrond returned to his horse. Then taking up his spear, he gestured his column forward. The refugees stood along the side of the road as the cavalry of Lindon thundered past at a canter, a shining river of valiant knights, their armor gleaming silver in the sun. _Yet they ride unto their doom,_ Helluin thought,_ and in numbers insufficient to do aught but worry the enemy's companies and die by attrition of battle._ Amidst the Host of Fingolfin they would hath been but a company.

When they had passed away down the road leaving naught but dust in their wake, Helluin and Beinvír urged the refugees on. After another fortnight they delivered them to the Grey Havens at Mithlond. They had not encountered the rest of the army.

Now when they had arrived, Helluin had found that Cirdan was indeed at the Havens rather than in Harlond. There he was awaiting boats that would bring the infantry from Forlond, for t'would be faster to send them by water than march them hither by land. Gil-galad would ride with his knights to meet them, and thence together they would march upon Eriador. Therefore she came to Cirdan to ask tidings of the king.

"My lord Cirdan, Lindon musters and indeed we hath met Lord Elrond upon the road a fortnight past. Hath the king conveyed any orders or summons for me?"

Cirdan looked at her, one of the few in Lindon who did so without nervousness or fear, and simply told her no. He had heard nothing from the king naming her in any capacity. Indeed he thought this understandable. The king considered her ungovernable in battle, fey in her wrath, and very nearly an equal danger to friend and foe.

The Shipwright chuckled at her shocked expression adding, "Ereinion hath never seen thee at war. Avernien was already decided ere we came thither, but tales abounded and the bodies of Amras and Amrod and many others hewn by thy hand did he see. Thence from the survivors of Gondolin came stories of the great battles of Beleriand, and these but confirmed his impressions. He knows not what to do with thee, Helluin; indeed he fears thee. Were I thou, I should go thither ere he comes, for he is greatly uncertain and might well dispatch thee hence to Khand or Rhûn, simply to be done with thee."

Helluin gritted her teeth but thanked the Lord of the Havens, gathered Beinvír, and departed. She found herself intensely aggravated by her king's dismissal in time of war.

"C'mon, _meldanya_, let's get out of here ere by the king's grace I am sent to Udûn."

They departed Mithlond even as the first of the boats filled with soldiers were drawing 'nigh the quays. Rather than head east, Helluin took a path north up the River Lhûn until it joined the tributary running down from the Emyn Uial. This they followed eastward to the Twilight Hills where stood towns and settlements of Men. To these they passed word of the invasion of Sauron, and they bid them marshal themselves such as they could for the defense of their homes or for flight south to Lindon.

Afterwards they made their way yet further eastward, until one afternoon they stood in the same lands in which she had spoken with Glorfindel under the stars. There they came upon a great conclave of Laiquendi, well nigh a thousand with more arriving by the hour. 'Twas the first time the Host of the Green Elves had assembled in an Age.

"By the Valar, what goes forth?" Helluin asked of Beinvír.

"They know of the war, my friend, and they marshal to defend their lands, what else?"

"How many shalt come?"

"I hath no idea," Beinvír admitted, staring around in obvious surprise at the numbers of her people already present, "Indeed, I doubt not that they hath no idea themselves. I myself hath never seen so many together. I am sure that such a gathering hast not been since we dwelt in Ossiriand."

Helluin looked around again, recalling the absolute stealth with which Dálindir's host had tracked and met the sons of Feanor returning from Avernien. She had never known how many there had been around them in the woods. She had never heard any count of their people. She had never known any of the Noldor or the Sindar who had. Even now a visual count was difficult, for many sat motionless and seemed to vanish into shadow or the green of plantlife, only to move and become visible again. With their present numbers the effect was disturbing, as though the landscape were uncomfortable in its skin and twitching, first here and then somewhere else.

Throughout the afternoon and into the evening, and then all through the night, the arrivals continued. In the dark a count was impossible.

"How long shalt this continue?" Helluin asked.

"'Twas the way of our people to mass upon a given date and at a given place, rather than to linger for days in a place while stragglers arrived. I should wager that by morning all who art to arrive shalt be here, and Helluin, many will arrive by dark, favoring the cover of night."

In the morning's first light the surrounding landscape came alive, for the Green Elves shed their cloaks and stood. Amongst them moved a small cadre of their lords, and these would command them for the king was absent and likely dead. The leadership had passed in time of war to the king's general, _Tórferedir_**¹,** an ellon of three millennia in age, who had served in Ossiriand under both Dálindir and his father Denethor, the last time in which his people had stood in posture of war.

**¹**(**Tórferedir, _King's Hunter._** Sindarin)

Helluin stood beside Beinvír as the commanders moved through the ranks towards them and she noted the sidelong glances cast their way, for they had marked her as not of their kindred. Indeed Helluin had sensed more welcome in Khazad-dum. After what seemed like hours, the commanders at last stood before them.

"Who art thou? From what company doth thou come?" Tórferedir's lieutenant asked.

"I am Beinvír and for a time kept company with Dálindir, but he is long lost and since his passing I hath roamed with my friend, Helluin of the Noldor," Beinvír answered.

The general gave her a long, appraising look, but Beinvír met his glance without wavering. He nodded to her and then looked at Helluin with the slightest indication of a sneer.

"What aid can'st thou hope to give save to reveal our presence untimely? He asked.

"In truth I had no thought of aiding thee at all," Helluin said, "and I shalt certainly not serve thee. I came hither with my friend but by chance. Indeed neither of us sought thy muster and knew not even of its being called."

Tórferedir fairly gaped at her. For all practical purposes this Exile had dismissed him! He turned back to Beinvír, who nodded her agreement with Helluin's words. To Beinvír he ordered, "Thou shalt join this host either by thy choice or in constraint and under probation, for thou art still of our people."

Last he returned his attention to Helluin, but now he appeared openly hostile.

"I should slay thee as a spy or perhaps take thee in bonds to Lindon for the bounty offered on the head of a deserter. The Noldor hath been called to Lindon to serve their king. Thou art a renegade and a coward, I deem."

But Tórferedir had made the mistake of accusing Helluin while looking her in the eyes and ere he could withdraw his gaze, her wrath at his words flared and the blue fire kindled. Then his will was dominated by her power and he was restrained, bound and unable to move. Into his mind came both Helluin's voice and the pictures of many battles, images of fighting that froze his blood and filled him with terror. No hidden assault upon an enemy unaware were these, but rather tireless slaying face to face. Blood spraying and the screaming of the wounded, the falling of bodies and the clash of arms. He saw what Helluin had seen in the Dagor Aglareb and the Nirnaeth Arnoediad; his mind walked in her footsteps and watched her blade hewing her enemies. It lasted only moments to those who stood by watching, but it shook the general more than all his years at war. Then she blinked and released him and he staggered until his balance returned.

Ere he could compose himself, Helluin snatched him by the collar and hoisted his feet off the ground. She held him thus, ignoring the rush of bows drawn all around her, and she pressed the Sarchram tight against his throat.

"For his trespass shalt I gladly slay this, thy enemy," the Grave Wing declared.

Helluin's rage was kindled; Tórferedir's accusations, Gil-galad's rejection, and Sauron's invasion and Celebrimbor's refusal all fed her anger, but without the outlet of battle it took an even more frightening form. Now though her mouth didn't move her words came into the minds of all nearby, bearing wrath, indignation, and a promise of fell retribution.

"By craven devices doth thou and thine slay from hiding, and thou presume to call me coward, spy, renegade, and deserter? I should not only kill thee but send thy fëa beyond the Halls of Mandos and into the Void. I hath taken such measure of the blood of the Enemy that my own king now fears me and disdains my service. Thou would fear me as well were thou but wiser. Neither shalt thou take me nor lay me in bonds, and should thou constrain my beloved I shalt hunt thee down, nay, not just thou alone nor those who lay hands upon her, but all thy people unto the last though it take unto the end of days."

Then it seemed that to those who stood nigh that Helluin's whole body ignited with a brilliant light, and scarcely could they even cast their eyes upon her figure. Soon no target could they discern amidst the brilliance and no clear outline could they perceive through the glare. For if one who hath lived in the Blessed Realm stands as a phosphor and at once upon both shores, what then of one who had bathed for a millennium in the very source of the Light Undying? She flung Tórferedir from her and reached out to encompass Beinvír in her radiance, drawing her into the cloud of light. At her feet the turf smoldered and burst into flame.

Ere Helluin mastered her rage and diminished her manifestation of power, the Laiquendi had fled.

**To Be Continued**

6


	35. In An Age Before Chapter 35

**In An Age Before – Part 35

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**Chapter Twenty-five**

_**The War of the Elves and Sauron, Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

For a spirit such as Helluin's it became obvious that there was no choice but to go to war. After the incident with the Laiquendi, Helluin knew that her rage would find its best outlet on the battlefield, for it would not be extinguished so long as Sauron made war upon her people. A great and ancient enemy had arisen and now he threatened all that she valued. If Ereinion required not her service, then she would fight on her own behalf. Beinvír, whose eyes now held a fugitive light akin to that of some few from Doriath such as Amdír, saw this as clearly as did Helluin, and had accepted it even before the Noldo admitted it to herself. And so in Lothron, (May), of 1695 the two ellith made their way east towards Eregion, for they would go to war as an army of two.

They crossed the Baranduin north of the Old Forest, bypassed the arcs of downs to its east, and made their way following a track south of the Weather Hills. Now they went with stealth and the lessons Beinvír had taught Helluin long before preserved them.Nórui, (June), came and went. Ost-In-Edhil fell and Celebrimbor was slain in Cerveth, (July), taken while defending the guildhouse, and thence put to torture. Sauron took from him the Seven and the Nine, and as Helluin had predicted, slew his captive once he learned he had not the Three.

Helluin and Beinvír were surprised to find the city but recently fallen. Helluin had expected it to be taken within a fortnight of the enemy's arrival, but it had gained a reprieve. Celeborn had come across the Caradhras Pass with many Sindar out of Lórinand, and they had engaged the vanguard, slaying well nigh two thousand of the Yrch ere they were forced into retreat by the arrival of the main host.

When he arrived, Elrond had joined his cavalry to Celeborn's infantry, giving the Eldar yet more flexibility to engage the army of Sauron. They had staved off the siege of Ost-In-Edhil for over a month. In that period of grace many refugees had fled the doomed city. These attached themselves to the Elven forces, for therein seemed the only safety and hope.

Yet from the beginning it had been a slow retreat back through the lands south of Glanduin, and as the enemy's numbers allowed them to widen the front, Elrond and Celeborn had been forced back lest they be flanked and crushed against the Hithaeglir. They had finally been required to hasten the withdrawal their forces. Then the city was laid bare to the Host of Sauron and it was besieged and taken.

Elrond and Celeborn moved slowly through the northern precincts of Eregion during late 1695, fighting upon their rearguard and then their left flank too, for by winter Yrch held the far shore of Mitheithel and made many sorties across that river against them.

Soon only two choices remained open to the Elves. Either to follow the Bruinen north from its juncture with the Mitheithel, cornering themselves against the Hithaeglir, or in desperation, to cross west o'er the Bruinen while the Glamhoth sought to cross the Mitheithel to pursue them and then flee through the increasingly rugged terrain leading up into the Ettenmoors. But to do thus they would have to act ere the highland rose, for between the branching of the two rivers the land lay fairly flat. In that flatter land, (the area south of the uplands called The Angle), they could be easily overrun. And they knew that with so many refugees they would never outpace the Glamhoth and win free to the west. Also the Elves would then be forced to defend both right and left flanks, and a retreat in either direction afterwards would be hindered by the rivers. Either way they were trapped, but by staying east of the Bruinen, at least they were protected upon their left flank by the Hithaeglir. And last there was the unspoken hope that a pass might be found over the Misty Mountains and thence to safety in Rhovanion.

So Elrond and Celeborn decided to stay east of the Bruinen, and though they would eventually be trapped, they saw no course but to prolong their survival and trust to hope. Behind them the land filled with the enemy, but the corner they retreated into narrowed the front. This actually worked to their advantage. Staying east of the Bruinen also forced the Glamhoth to advance through the increasingly broken lands to their west. The enemy followed them ever more closely and their position became ever more grim.

In the increasingly steep terrain that the retreating Elves covered following the River Bruinen north into the mountains, they would finally have been overwhelmed, save that from Khazad-dum came an army of 15,000 Naugrim, and with them 4,000 of the Nandor under Prince Amroth. Their coming was timely indeed. These allies assailed the right flank of Sauron's army and by their threat drew off the pursuit of the Noldor and Sindar. In doing so they prolonged the campaign in Eregion through the winter and into the following spring.

Taking advantage of this respite, Elrond and Celeborn fought a running battle against Sauron's vanguard, using the cavalry for hit and run tactics and the infantry for ambush, while making stands at every favorable emplacement. They fought a bitter war of attrition, ever seeking to whittle away at their enemy's numbers while preserving their own. Much of 1696 passed as they slowly continued north across 150 miles, giving ground, but forcing the Yrch to buy it dear with many lives.

For some time they had also known that upon their right flank moved a force, unseen and unknown, save that in the mornings their scouts would find a score of Yrch with their heads hewn clean off. More were found having fallen to bowmen, and these were invariably shot in the right eye with a precision that could only hath been the work of Elven master archers. In the course of Elrond and Celeborn's retreat, which eventually led them to the hidden valley that became Imladris, their unseen benefactors took nearly nine hundred heads. Beyond Bruinen lay a killing ground, and the sentries and scouts of Elrond and Celeborn's forces would hear from those upland woods the cries of pain and shrieks of horror as their enemies died in the darkness.

In the night, the screams of the Yrch came to their ears from dusk until dawn. Some died so close to the camp that their carcasses were discovered nigh the pickets and the supply wagons. But never did the sentries of the Elven force discover who had aided them, for the killers' stealth was complete. They knew only that some friendly company had turned The Angle and the hilly ground to its north deadly to their foes.

"'Tis stealth akin to that of the Laiquendi of Ossiriand in the past Age," Celeborn had said, and Elrond had agreed, recalling a march long before in the company of Maedhros and Maglor. Now they were both thankful to be blessed with such allies.

Neither rain nor snow stayed the killing. The slaying continued even after the discovery and establishment of Imladris in the first wintry month of 1697. It only abated when the principal host of Sauron's army turned south to exterminate the Naugrim and their Nandor allies in the spring of that year. In this too they failed.

The allied force retreated to Khazad-dum and Durin's Halls were shut. The doors upon which Celebrimbor had labored held strong and even in death the son of Curufin frustrated his enemy. In all the long years ere his fall, never did Sauron Gorthaur enter Hadhodrond with war.

Helluin and Beinvír followed Sauron's main army south and witnessed the results of the ancient hatred between the Glam and the Naugrim. Both sides spared no mercy in battle for their enemies, but the Yrch mutilated the Dwarves they slew, burning their heads so the dead could never find rest entombed as was their tradition. They burned their prisoners alive as well, knowing the screams carried through the night to the ears of their comrades.

The sight of the decapitated remains and the smoldering ashes of the bonfires enraged Helluin and Beinvír when they came upon them, and as the weeks passed both became more grim and accelerated their war, slaying ever greater numbers of the Glam. Indeed a desperate urgency seized Helluin; she felt she could never slay enough and she hastened through the darkness in a growing frenzy seeking ever more foes. The Yrch soon feared assignment to their own right flank, for there the night's darkness that they naturally favored had turned deadly. Some enemy marched with them, able to see when they could not, silent beyond their capability to hear, having no discernable scent, leaving no spoor, and possessed of a hatred for their kind that was beyond anything they had ever encountered. And never were there any survivors, only corpses. Rumors passed in whispers amongst them, numerous as locusts.

By the early summer of 1697, their companies were so intimidated by their unseen foe that even when the heads of their dead were cast into their camp just ere dawn, none ventured forth to counterattack. Rather, they hid the heads lest their lord command them to seek out this enemy. Oft they were forced to disavow the existence of whole companies, or claim they had deserted when they failed to answer the call to battle. The Yrch knew and hid the truth from their master. Their comrades had been slain silently in the night.

In Cerveth, (July), of 1697, something inside Helluin snapped and she took to impaling the dead and leaving their cadavers to be found by the living. She did this in retribution for the mutilation of her friend, Celebrimbor, for only now after two years had she learned the grisly truth of his fate.

Now the season grew late for a major change of campaign; July was well 'nigh past and the Host had been frustrated by the _Ennyn Durin_**¹** of Hadhodrond. Therefore at this time Sauron allowed his forces a respite of well 'nigh a year for pillage and plunder, seeking to terrorize all the peoples of Eriador into despair. Save for the lesser force left to threaten Imladris, his companies went to and fro, nearly autonomous, indulging themselves freely in their malice. The Yrch hunted down Men and Elves, burned towns and homesteads, and ruined such tillage as they came upon. They were charged only with rendering Eriador a wasteland, and to this task they bent their efforts with glee. It was a campaign of terror, and in this environment Helluin and Beinvír took up an even more terrifying form of war.

**¹**(**Ennyn Durin, _Doors of Durin,_** the enchanted West Gate of Moria. Sindarin)

After two years of constant bloody conflict overlying centuries of animosity, Helluin's rage rose to new heights even she had never ascended to before, and in that state she committed atrocities. Beinvír was sickened, disheartened, and demoralized, but Helluin was unable to break off the killing and the subsequent dismemberment of her fallen foes. Never in the annals of two Ages of Middle Earth had an Elda done thus. Perhaps 'twas well that Helluin had passed so much time in Gondolin, insulated there from the wars with Morgoth. She had been ever fearsome in her wrath, but that had enjoyed only short spans of freedom aforetime. Now though she slew the same Yrch, her rage was not the same. They were naught but fodder for her darkness now, grisly material to be used to the best advantage in terrorizing the enemy, for cruel though they were, Helluin understood that the Yrch knew fear. The Green Elf remained by her side, knowing that if she left, Helluin would continue on to her death with no care save the destruction of her enemies. In sorrow she stayed to guard her friend's back, though she barely recognized her anymore.

Now 'twas not uncommon for a company of Yrch to come upon an acre of their fellows bodies impaled upon spikes and rotting in the sun, while nearby lay piled the heads, arms, and legs hewn off with a grim sense of necessity. In the darkness of her hatred, Helluin left fields in which legs stood like rows of grain, wells were filled to the brim with heads, ears were strung upon cords crossing the roads, and footpaths were paved with tongues.

When the Yrch marched to savage the hill that would one day host the town of Bree, they found that someone had been there before them. Upon the slope a macabre tableau had been constructed. There paired arms and legs were set so that they appeared joined, standing on their own without bodies. Heads were set with hewn neck atop hewn thigh, two per torso that stood embedded upside-down to the chest in the earth. O'erhead the branches of the trees were decorated with hands. A lone surviving Orch was discovered, eyeless and tongueless, and wandering on stumps amidst the dead. He could tell them nothing, could not even beg them for death. Of course they ate him, for he alone was unrotted.

Eventually such doings could no longer be concealed. Sauron learned of the mayhem and went in person to visit a scene of carnage. He was led thither by a fearful company of Yrch to what had been a pleasant hamlet of Men ere it had been burned, and there he saw the fallow winter fields guarded by scarecrows made from the dismembered body parts of 100 of his soldiers. They had been cobbled back together with sharpened sticks joining sundry elements in service to a grim sense of humor. Legs took station at the shoulders, invariable two rights or two lefts on a torso. Arms were appended to hips.

Sauron laughed at the scene as he had not since the campaign began, and then placed a bounty of 10,000 gold pieces on the ones who had created it. Of course he'd never intended to pay, would have slain any who attempted to collect, but he wanted the leader of the perpetrators. Such a cruel one, he thought, could easily be compelled into his service and would rise quickly in the ranks. To such a one he would soon give a Ring, the first of the Nine, for he deemed this enemy a Man. The Eldar had not the stomach for such things…never had and never would.

By torturing the company that had led him thither he finally learned all of what had been visited upon his Glamhoth since shortly after the war began. That they would conceal such from him left him wroth, yet at the same time amused. And their present fear was delicious. He added their bodies to the field, but his scarecrows lacked some intrinsic spark of inspiration. It perplexed and irritated him. Eventually he came to understand that he had not the hate of the original creator.

Only many years later did he come to realize something else about the artworks, (for so he deemed them). As he ruminated in Bard-dúr upon his defeat and contemplated the rebuilding of his strength, he noted that only upon the Glam had such acts been committed. When he had found companies of Easterlings slain, they were left as they had fallen, none mutilated, none reduced to trophies. And the sheer numbers of the dead made doubtful the mortality of the perpetrator. 1695, '96, '97, and '98; four years…o'er five thousands slain. No Man was so fell. It reeked of Elven prowess.

Long he pondered this and then he realized that one amongst his enemies he had never seen nor sensed in battle ere the very end. In the great wars of the prior Age she had been remarkable, slaying any who came 'nigh in her wrath. In the past war she had not been seen until the final defeat. Where had she been all those years while Eriador was contested? Where had Helluin Maeg-mormenel hidden? He had not been able to see or sense her after he'd failed to entrap her in 1600. She had closed herself to him more completely than any of the Eldar had been able to do. Now he wondered. Had it been her? Had the darkness he'd sensed in the Sarchram cirth overflowed upon her ancient enemies, the Glam? Yes, such a one could have accounted for the plethora of the dead. He contented himself with the fantasy and his shell showed signs of becoming excited, but he would probably never know for sure. Then he turned his black thought to Númenor. The Dúnedain had earned his hatred and he would bring them down if it took him an Age.

In the meantime the army of Lindon had taken the field. Gil-galad and Glorfindel, Gildor and Erestor, and the others of the lords and knights of the Noldor and Sindar had moved to battle. With them went many of Cirdan's Sindar and those Númenóreans who were at Mithlond when the war broke out. They had begun by assailing their enemy's left flank, (his right flank after he turned south), and they did what damage they could. At one point they marched but a couple leagues from where Helluin and Beinvír engaged the Yrch each night, but they too never discovered their identities. Throughout 1696 and 1697 they were unable to join their forces with Elrond and Celeborn, and they were always greatly outnumbered. Then after the Naugrim and Nandor retreated to Khazad-dum they were slowly driven back west.

At last as 1698 came to a close, Sauron recommitted to his purpose and ordered his army to take Lindon the following spring. Thence he gathered together his companies and marshaled them to a front of war, for the third host he had left training upon Gorgoroth would soon be capable of battle. The remnant of his vanguard and host still numbered 52,000, while the Eldar and their allies he deemed no more than 15,000. When the campaigning season opened in 1699, he would sweep them into the Gulf of Lune. Once that was done and he held two of the Three, he would return to finish with Elrond ere he crossed back into Rhovanion and laid waste to Lórinand. He would then have all the Elven Rings, for from Celebrimbor he had already taken the Seven and the Nine. He had soon discerned where the Three were hidden and who their keepers were.

Gwaeron, (March), S.A. 1699 opened the campaigning season and Sauron ordered his army to advance. He assigned only a token force to guard against action from Imladris. The rest drove the forces of Gil-galad before them in retreat to Baranduin, and by mid-Gwirith, (April), the king was desperately trying to regroup on the western bank south of Sarn Athrad. Sauron ordered his northern companies to move south in an encircling gambit, but the troops seemed sluggish, their advance far slower than it should have been. They were mostly Yrch in those companies, some 18,000, and he suspected lagging or desertion. After the war he resolved to flay the veterans.

The northern companies received their orders on 17 Gwirith and made to cross the Baranduin southwest of the gap between the north and central downs. Once west of the river they would sweep down upon the Elven King whose primary host was 100 miles to the south. It was a good plan and they began the crossing, glad to leave behind _En-Dôrsôr_**¹**, the Abhorrent Land, the dreaded Land of Atrocities in northeastern Eriador. **¹**(In fact lore hints that the name given that land in the Black Speech more closely translates as, "The Land of Wasted Meat")

About them all lay stifled. Save for the fleeing of the water and the groaning of the breeze not a sound could be heard but the tramping of their own boots. It was more silent than death; not a bird chirped, not a beast scrabbled to hide. This green and rolling country seemed scared out of its natural voice. The thought of a land terrified to silence the Yrch found gratifying, and the lack of enemies was welcome. They should have known it was unnatural.

The march to battle should have taken them three days; instead it took seven and they arrived with but 7,000 left alive. They never saw an enemy the whole time. They were never challenged. They faced no line of foes. Yet all too often a soldier would keel over mid-stride, and arrow in his back or eye or throat. Such might come from any direction, and even when there was no cover they themselves could have used, still they were assailed constantly. Not once was there a volley sent against them. The arrows came singly, but always precisely aimed and deadly. The survivors were even unable to mark with certainty from what direction the twang of the bowstring had sounded.

Scouts were the first to disappear, and these were oft found impaled and left in their path, revealed to the companies suddenly when making the crest of some pleasant hill. Their fearsome enemy was still with them. Eventually the host clung together, sending forth neither advance parties nor scouts, and in this way they seldom took the quickest route. Many were the arguments and fights that broke out amongst their captains as a result, as they painfully made their way through the lands of the Laiquendi of Eriador. They lost there 11,000, mostly to bow fire.

When they finally arrived at Sarn Athrad on 24 Gwirith they found their own army already encamped there. The battle had taken place two days before and Gil-galad had withdrawn yet again. In his place was much worse; a furious Sauron awaited them. The master's form, a beautiful blonde youth, tall and unnaturally handsome, and glowing with a compelling darkness, offered them a smile ere the troops were taken and impounded.

"What doth thou fear?" The Master softly asked the commander of the Glamhoth, his sweet and musical voice almost a caress. His bright, cat's-gold eyes veiled their cruelty with a veneer of sympathetic concern thinner than the tender skin of his unblinking eyelids. Love for a comrade, one might almost have thought it, for his words dripped with caring sincerity. A fool would have believed him friendly and likeable. He certainly appeared noble and heroic in his spotless, chromed armor with its intricate gold inlays and multi-hued cloisonné. But there was always the accompanying darkness.

"Y-you, Lord Sauron," the Orch whimpered as a stream of foul water left his body in his terror. Lord Gorthaur paid no attention to his wet legs or his loss of control.

"What else, my faithful liege? Surely there must be something?" He asked, the charade of pity reflected perfectly in his features. Oh, how he always enjoyed this.

The Orch was quaking in fear and for some moments no words came to his tongue. He had an answer, but couldn't force it from his lips for it would damn him. His master sighed, then gently laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. The ring he wore felt cold as ice and the Orch couldn't help but shrink from the touch. He had seen those same bare fingers strip meat from a screaming prisoner's bones.

"Come now, speak thy concern," the Master gently encouraged.

"A-an enemy…m-maybe Maia maybe V-Vala; long against thee, L-Lord Sauron," the Orch finally stuttered, "h-he impales, slays th-thousands…" 'Twas no good and he knew it. Then a will greater than his own froze his tongue and he spoke no more.

"I see," Sauron said as if agreeing, "'twas unfair to pit thee and thy troops against such a one. No soldier can oppose a god." He offered the Orch a calming smile. "Thou art weary. Go now to thy rest." He turned away, the cruel grin taking shape on his lips.

The Orch choked back a cry of terror and began shaking so badly he could barely stand, but the audience had ended and there was naught to do save force his legs to carry him from the tent. Outside they were waiting for him just as he expected, for he had seen this happen oft aforetime. There he was grappled and stripped.

They took him and laid him out under the weight of many hands. And when he was finished struggling and his panic had given way to despair, they flayed off his skin and turned him loose to run through the camp screaming in pain, while others jeered and tossed upon him their rations of salt. Bloody footprints marked the path of his disgrace.

Eventually he was ignored and he crept beyond the perimeter, thinking to quench the burning of his anguish in the river. From the bank he saw his skin, waving in the breeze as a pennant atop his master's tent. He looked away from that horror and into the woods, and there he saw a lone figure in black armor approaching, blue eyes kindled with a terrifying light. The black sword came down swiftly and hewed his neck. Then for one moment more he looked up into the face of the most frighteningly beautiful Elf woman he had ever seen.

The next morning his body was found impaled amongst the chuck wagons. His head had been discovered at the bottom of a stew pot and the cooks had fought over the meat. When the army advanced at noon they left behind his 7,000 troops, flayed and impaled on their own pikes in dishonor. His master chuckled all day whenever the image of it came upon him.

"I think I am slipping," Helluin muttered to Beinvír as they sat beside their small hunter's fire that night. The Green Elf looked up from her plate but slowly. Helluin had noticed the increasingly hollow look in her friend's eyes of late and she was worried.

"Thou hast slid far, my friend," Beinvír stated with little emotion in her voice.

"I meant that this morn I slew an Orch who had left behind his skin for his master," Helluin explained, "I am fairly certain I did him an act of mercy."

"And is that such a bad thing?"

"I find I am no longer sure," Helluin admitted in surprise. She stared down at her hands.

"I think this war hath wounded thy heart, for I am sure it hath wounded mine," Beinvír said, setting down her plate. "I hath lived but to slay these last years, rather than slaying to live. Worse, we hath violated the fallen as would an Orch or even Sauron himself. Very nearly the only thing we hath not done is cannibalize them. It hath left me empty of spirit and I value not the coming day, but rather abhor it. I detest what the morrow shalt bring rather than seek its possibilities. Almost would dying be more welcome."

Helluin looked at her friend in alarm. Such a declaration was a very serious matter in an Elf. So many had died of broken hearts and oft the first sign of such was the expression of a loss of the desire to live. Therefore when Beinvír told Helluin that she found no joy or hope in the coming day, but rather questioned if death would not be better, she was but a step from despair and the failing of her life. Her _hroa _would simply collapse and her _fëa_ take flight to the Halls of Mandos, there perhaps to heal of its despondency over many long years. Helluin had barely sense enough remaining to know that they had to stop…she had to stop. She had been indulging her rage for years and now she finally understood that it was killing her friend. The Noldo dimly recalled that once she had thought it better for Beinvír to take ship into the West than to remain in Middle Earth during the coming war. It seemed like a sentiment from Ages before. Helluin blinked in surprise; in the end she had dragged her beloved through all the things she'd once feared the Green Elf would suffer; indeed even worse. Yet she was still too numb to feel guilty.

"On the morrow I shalt take thee to Imladris, and there we shalt remove ourselves from this war," Helluin said. "Perhaps we should hath stayed there in the company of Elrond and Celeborn. Looking back I find myself confused, with reasons then both yea and nay and the enemy being so threatening that I could not but pursue them. And thence to discover the remnant of Celebrimbor's husk dangling upon its pole…. In any case we hath done our part, and that more than most."

Beinvír nodded slowly as if exhausted and then lay down on her groundcover of many rat skins. Helluin sat a long time staring at her boots and sucking on her teeth. Finally she too lay down after slinging away into the woods their uneaten food. By then the realm of memories had taken her friend in its clutches and the Green Elf shuddered and whimpered and a slow trickle of tears leaked from her eyes during her repose. Helluin watched, thinking she should feel worse for it, but unable to empathize as she lay nearby. For so long she had suppressed all her feelings save rage, and she found those unused now felt almost foreign and difficult to access. Her own memories were mostly of slaughter, bloodletting, and mayhem. It had been many nights since she'd let herself slip into that endless replaying of her daily carnage. She had found that naught else could she conjure anymore in the hours of darkness. And it bored her to see again at night the same images as she had created in her waking hours. _Better to be numb; better to be sleepless_…_once a week is enough_, she thought, and tonight was not her night for rest. 'Tis said that the obsessed sleep but little, for their minds art deemed already fully occupied and hath not room left for dreams.

**To Be Continued**

9


	36. In An Age Before Chapter 36

**In An Age Before – Part 36

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They set out the next day, 25 Gwirith, crossing unseen behind the enemy lines and making their way northeast across the devastated leagues of Eriador. On those occasions when they sensed Yrch close by, Helluin would leave Beinvír in some safe dell or copse and go out to slaughter them all, for in this she was unrelenting. Then upon returning afterwards she would lead her friend by some other path out of sight of the killing, sparing her from viewing the carnage. In this way they came again to the pine-slopes of the Hithaeglir at the end of Lothron.

The remnant force left behind by Sauron dissuaded them not. Helluin and Beinvír cut their way through their leaguer and came to the paths leading upland to the hidden valley.

Now Helluin and Beinvír had never entered the narrow pass through the red cliffs that led down to that flat final mile of meadow before the Ford of Bruinen that was the guarded entrance to Imladris. Therefore, though they knew the way, they went with stealth by a much harder but unguarded route, ever seeking not to be discovered by the enemy or shot by the sentries of that land. So it was over the sheer cliffs rather than through the defile that they came, bypassing thus the outer guard. Then marching out onto the meadow before the ford, Helluin stood before Beinvír lest any arrows come at them, and she revealed herself as one who had lived in the Blessed Realm.

Across the Bruinen the sentries saw two figures enmeshed in a growing light, an efflorescence of silver and gold that flashed to a blinding white in a heartbeat and then diminished to a figure kindled by the Light of Aman. By this were they warned and given notice that indeed 'twas one of the Calaquendi that approached, and she one of great power amongst that kindred. As a body in raiment of light did Helluin make her way to the thither bank of the river, and there she halted and reclaimed her normal guise. Thence she hailed the sentries on the hither shore, and from across the water her voice was heard clearly by those guarding the path into the ascending wood.

"Hail thou, O Guardians of Imladris. Here art Helluin of the Host of Finwe, and with her, Beinvír of the Laiquendi, newly come from the war. We seek sanctuary, and succor from the carnage, and would greet thy lords, Elrond of Lindon and Celeborn of Lórinand."

From the far bank came the voice of the officer of the watch in answer.

"Come thou hither, warriors of fell hand and blooded blade, for Imladris is the north refuge of our folk in this time of war and 'tis open to any of the Eldar that come from pursuit by the Enemy. Few know the way, and in finding it, thou hast also found friends."

Helluin and Beinvír were taken directly to Elrond, and there also was Celeborn, for both greatly desired to hear what tidings of the war the two could tell. None of their host had ventured forth since Imladris had been founded in Narwain, (January), of 1697, a year and a half before.

Elrond's brows gathered as he saw the two. Upon Helluin lay a darkness he could easily perceive with senses developed by his healer's training. Helluin, he knew, had ever been dour and given in the past to a frightening battle rage, but never before had he seen the sooty aura that lay about her now. Yet worse was the despondency of spirit he detected in Beinvír. For Beinvír he feared, for she was but steps from willing her own separation. Whatever horrors they had met in battle had left its mark deep upon them both. In Helluin it had exacerbated those tendencies known before. She would likely heal. In Beinvír the impact had become acute and her fate was uncertain, even doubtful, for upon her _fëa_ lay mourning and melancholy recently acquired and alien to her nature. She sat before him, pale and hollow-eyed, where before she had been ever vivacious and warm.

"How stands the battle?" Elrond asked.

"It moves west after defeat upon defeat, Lord Elrond," Helluin answered. "Gil-galad is driven beyond Baranduin and Sauron makes to take Lindon. The High King stands greatly outnumbered and Númenor hast not come."

"And what of our other allies?" Celeborn asked.

"Of the Nandor of Prince Amroth and the Naugrim of Durin, both art for the time safe within the mansions of Khazad-dum. The Doors of Celebrimbor hold fast and none of the enemy may enter. Of the Laiquendi, they slay such as come nigh, shooting many but seeking out none. 'Tis for the Dúnedain that all now hope, and yet their coming should hath been in years past and the hope of them withers. Naught hast been heard of them, though those already upon the Hither Shores fight valiantly for the king."

Helluin's words were as concise as any battlefield report given by a commander's adjutant, but her eyes had been far away and her voice empty. Beinvír had said naught and had merely stared into space, uninvolved. The tidings Elrond thought bad enough. The condition of his two friends worse. About the war he could do little. For Helluin and Beinvír he would try to do much.

It would start with a period of transition from war to peace, and from the brutal ugliness of the battlefield to the unspoiled beauty of Imladris. Days spent amidst sparkling streams and unsullied uplands where no sounds of fighting and no evidence of war intruded would help ease the immediacy of the horrors his friends had been constantly immersed in for the last few years. As life was a road, each hour took the two a step further from their trauma. And each such step was an affirmation of the next. For Beinvír especially, living one day at a time was important, for each was a day alive in which her hope for the future could grow and her despair diminished.

After a week Helluin and Elrond met to begin her therapy.

"Open thy mind to me, Helluin," Elrond asked as they sat together in his newly completed study. Though bright with early afternoon light, the room was almost bare, for both writings and the materials to write with were yet scarce in the refuge.

"Doth thou truly wish to share in those horrors?" Helluin asked in surprise. "I hath done and seen such as may leave thee as shivered in spirit as is Beinvír."

"I hath seen the horrors upon the battlefield, my friend. Both the slaying and the fear. I was still young at the slaughter of my people in Avernien and the fighting thereafter."

Helluin nodded; she had not forgotten the battle in Taur-Im-Duinath where she had found him and his brother Elros in the company of Maedhros and Maglor.

"Of such I am sure thou hath been forced to endure, yet in my war such trials pale. I hath fought the fifth front in the deeps of the night and from the well of darkness hath my soul drunk deep. Thou hast seen naught of such horrors, I deem, and dreamt them not, I pray," she said in warning.

"Nevertheless I see the reflection of fell deeds upon thee; a darkness hath risen within thee that I would dismiss. Thou once had rage amidst thy spirit. Now thou hast become thy rage, am I not correct?"

"Indeed so; I am become the hand of wrath."

"Then show to me the blood upon thy hands."

Here Elrond looked into Helluin's eyes, willing her to open her heart to him. He had been warned. She could do aught but share with him, though the gift might overthrow him. Helluin returned his gaze and he was immediately seized and captured within it, his mind reeling from the strength of her will. Though Elrond had chosen the life of the Eldar, he was Peredhel. She was 4,518 years his senior, well 'nigh four times his age, and she was a true Calaquende; in her the Light of the Trees was concentrated as in no other upon the Hither Shores. Then she shared the images of her memories. Over four years of war, over five thousands of the enemy slain, and few enough of those left to their graves.

Elrond saw, from the summer of 1695, how Helluin and Beinvír had preserved his left flank. He saw the slaughter they had wrought with sword and bow on the far banks of Mitheithel and Bruinen. He saw the slaying in the night. 1696 came and went with bloodletting, and he was astonished at how close she had been to his force throughout, though never had he marked her. She had watched the assaults of Gil-galad's army, and the movements of the Naugrim and the Nandor, and then the retreat of both to Khazad-dum. Beyond his guarded cliffs she had hunted the Yrch in the very woods upon his threshold. And then she had turned away south to harry the Glamhoth.

Then in 1697 she saw at last the pitiful remains of her friend Celebrimbor, shot with many arrows and mummified slowly over many campfires; shrunken, blackened, preserved by the soot, and still swinging upon the standard pole of the Glamhoth like some macabre puppet carelessly fabricated of smokehouse meats. Well 'nigh two years after his death his pitiful corpse still marched before the host of his enemies. Elrond was shocked at the sight, but he felt Helluin's wrath explode and that was more terrible still; the night had come down.

Now Elrond's body squirmed in his chair as his gaze was held captive by the piercing blue eyes Helluin had been named for. Therein marched the chronicle of her war's horror…the countless bodies hewn after death and left impaled. The heads flung into the enemy camp each dawn. The mutilations and atrocities she had committed were paraded before his mind's eye as if in some nightmare kaleidoscope. Yea, they were forced upon him, tamped down the gullet of his memory as grain into the craw of a pâté goose. Elrond began to struggle in revulsion but Helluin constrained him and he could not shy away. He was held thrall by her will, and by the glamours of her enchantments was forced to witness the carnage she had wrought upon their enemies.

_I shalt share with thee as thou asked, hiding nothing so thou shalt understand aright the nature of what I hath seen and done, and why suffers so my friend. For me thou can'st do naught, I deem, but for her perhaps some good can'st thou bring, Young Healer. And so I charge thee, watch, and I shalt share as thou beseeched me, though it damn me in thine eyes and in the eyes of all our people._

He saw the tableaus she had left displayed for the Yrch, the cobbling together of their body parts into unnatural figures, the coming of Sauron to view them, and by what slender a margin Beinvír had restrained her from the attempt to slay him with the Sarchram. With all his powers Gorthaur could not see her, yet preserved by her stealth, she had stalked him. And the carnage had continued through the year 1698 and into 1699, as she and her ailing friend followed the Glamhoth across Eriador, wrecking upon them such damage and horror as they could inflict. With her, Elrond drank in their fear, supped upon their terror, and reveled in the spilling of their blood. And when she at last released him, he slumped back in his chair gasping for breath; eyes clenched shut, grinding his teeth, and twitching as if in great pain.

"Perhaps 'tis I who should now heal thee," she said softly as she watched him writhing and trying to accommodate the pictures and feelings she had shown him. She sat silent in her chair and waited as the afternoon fled.

It was long ere he could adjust to what he had seen. Night had fallen when he finally sat upright and breathed with ease again, and still his mind was haunted. Never would he forget.

"Verily into the Void hath thou ventured, for such hatred comes not from the spirit of the Eldar within the Circles of Arda. Yet thou hast seen in Ages past that Eternal Night and thou art familiar with it, and so for thee 'twas but a return to a place already known and accepted. Thou art acquainted with that place of chaos, where no law or rule of conduct holds, and where no fear or hatred is unknown. For thy friend, indeed for any other, I deem, such a visit would be fraught with horror. Having walked in thy steps through these years of war, I am surprised that Beinvír still treads this shore. Just by seeing the path thou hast strode am I chilled to the quick. Even were I to come thither to Aman, never would I look through that window upon the darkness, knowing now aught of what lies there, and if like her were I forced hence, I should recoil in fear and loathing."

"The Void is not to be feared, Elrond, only that which we ourselves create to fill it. Evil and hatred art amongst the known, but true emptiness is not within our capacity to accept. Rage in battle hath long ruled my spirit, and in my long years of _unaccompanyment_ I hath accepted it to fill the lesser void within. War ever kindles anew my rage, yet despite being accompanied of late, I hath not changed. Beinvír hast suffered the knowledge of my rage more than she hath suffered the ravages of war."

Elrond weighed her words. He had never seen the Void nor lived in Aman. He knew of her long years there mostly from the stories of others, and these were few. Yet when first Glorfindel had arrived in Lindon, he had once spoken of Helluin and of the millennia she had spent wandering the Blessed Realm unaccompanied. For a great part of her time, Helluin had conducted herself thus in Middle Earth as well.

In such solitude it was conceivable that she had developed values and beliefs dissimilar to other Elves. Indeed she was unlike most other Elves in her preference for solitude. Perhaps from the start she had been different. Perhaps from the start she had been fated to walk a different path. Obviously she was not as horrified by her conduct as Beinvír had been, or as was he. She seemed able to set aside the conventional ideals of propriety and judge what was acceptable by her own criteria alone.

_A law unto herself at heart. Asocial, _Elrond thought…_she is at least partially asocial, and war has seduced her to revert to the options that asociality confers._ Helluin was only weakly compelled to let sanction dictate her behavior. It left her free to act, but also removed the conventional restraints on her actions. As such she could accomplish much and might be capable of anything. It was a frightening prospect.

"Doth thou condemn thyself for thy actions…those that many would judge atrocities?"

"Thou mean the dismemberment and mutilation of the slain? Nay, I do not. I hath met force with force, sword with sword, and terror with terror. This enemy deserves aught else of me. Yet its impact upon my friend I loath. For her wellbeing would I desist, and in desire of such hath I come hither, here to distance myself from the conflict and the necessity. For her sake only do I seek to constrain my actions."

"Not for some abstract sense of right or wrong?"

"I know right from wrong, Elrond. I know justice from injustice, mercy from cruelty. Yet I hath freed myself, either of such judgments as do not apply, or to know when to hold in abeyance such judgments as would hamper me."

"And thou trust thyself to be the judge of such?"

"In lieu of any other I trust more, I do."

"And yet thou art here and thy friend is ailing. In realization of the failing of thy judgment, art thou not trusting somewhat in her judgment?"

Helluin regarded the bleak truth of Elrond's words. She had judged her own actions appropriate for the circumstances, but Beinvír's reaction to them had brought them hence. The horror she had unleashed had brought her friend near to losing her will to live, for Helluin had trapped her beloved in a choice between the misery of staying to partake in her mayhem, or leaving and abandoning her lover to her unmitigated violence. It had been a _Bangthaur_**¹**, with either choice leading to pain and anguish, but Beinvír had chosen to endure the horrors with her beloved though it might cost her own life, rather than leave Helluin to an eventual suicide brought on by her uncontrollable wrath.

**¹**(**Bangthaur _bango-_**(trade) **-** **_-o_**(verb ending) + **_thaur_**(abhorrent or abominable) lit.trans. **_Abhorrent Trade,_** ver.trans. **_Devil's Bargain._ **Sindarin)

When she'd resolved to forgo the war and bring Beinvír to Imladris, Helluin had made the decision for practical reasons. Removing the Green Elf from the continuing violence and giving her spirit a respite from the carnage was a functional necessity as obvious as eating or remaining hidden. As always, Helluin had known what to do and had acted decisively to solve the problem. But she had never assessed whether such suffering had been necessary in the first place. All she had wanted to do was torment her enemies as they deserved. Maybe she had gone too far; acted too autonomously despite Beinvír's company. At least in the end her beloved's wellbeing had taken precedence o'er her wrath. She nodded to herself.

"Perhaps we should hath shared more equally in the decisions regarding whether to use all body parts or merely the heads," Helluin admitted reluctantly.

Elrond groaned. He could not imagine Beinvír favoring anything but leaving the dead where they lay. Yet Helluin was pondering the possibility seriously.

"I deem thou art missing the point, Helluin," he said. He reclaimed her attention and she regarded him now with a questioning expression.

"Thou believe that we should hath used thus the Easterlings as well, Elrond?"

"Nay, I do not!" The Peredhel cried out in exasperation. "I wager the killing alone 'twas horror aplenty and that borne with sorrow. But when compounded by the indignities thou visited upon the dead, 'twas those acts that exceeded what Beinvír's spirit would accept, even in war."

"Oh. But she accompanied me in battle despite all that…"

"And naught for any reason save that she loves thee and would not leave thee to thy mania. In truth Helluin, did she not faithfully watch thy back in battle yet partake not of thy activities afterwards?"

Helluin thought back over the years of fighting. Never once had the Green Elf helped her hew the cadavers or arrange the remains.

"'Tis as thou say," she agreed after reflection.

"Then I say that aught shalt cure her and restore her will to live save the renunciation of thy preoccupation with terrorism. Slay thy enemies in battle if necessary, Helluin, that she may countenance, but leave them then upon the field unmolested. The warrior she can accept, the monster curdles her blood."

After some reflection Helluin sighed and nodded in agreement. She supposed that to most her actions would hath seemed monstrous…she really wasn't sure herself. But Beinvír had fallen in love with the explorer, not the warrior, and had loved her still even during her fall into darkness. The Green Elf had stayed by her side, even as she had during the time Helluin had fought off the attack by Sauron in 1600.

_I cannot torment her any longer and do not now deserve her company,_ Helluin thought, _yet still, I shalt do what I can to heal her, for I owe her that and more._ And Helluin realized that throughout the years of war, the stars had not shone nearly so bright to her eye as they had aboard the _Valacirca_ on one magical night. Indeed she had scarce even thought of them until now, and thinking about them made her realize that she missed them. She wondered if she would ever see them thus again, brightened through the eyes of love.

**To be Continued**

6


	37. In An Age Before Chapter 37

**In An Age Before – Part 37**

_Posted soon after Chapter 36 because it's a continuation of the same actions in the same time._**

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Elrond left Helluin in his study deep in thought and he went thence to the quarters of the hospice in which Beinvír had settled. This was an airy building of many cozy rooms, each with its arched window looking out upon the forests. The hospice had been intentionally located on the most beautiful grounds still near enough to the main buildings to be acceptable, with fresh air and light and the sounds of running water in abundance. Each room had access to the long, sheltered portico as well as the inner hallway and courtyard. There he stood a moment in the doorway and studied the Green Elf, noting that she merely sat unmoving upon her bed, staring out through a window into the darkened woods as if in wonder at the placid swaying of the trees.

"Beinvír," he called softly to announce his presence without startling her. Still she gave a slight recoil anyway, then shook herself, shedding whatever thoughts had occupied her ere she turned to meet his gaze.

"Hello, Elrond," she said, blinking to help focus her eyes, "thy valley is very lovely and I hath craved such peace. I should like to stay here a while." She sighed softly. "Say not that Helluin is resolved to return to the war."

"She is not, and I agree that thou should remain hither for some time. Rest and peace, and surcease of war's horror doth thou need, for thy spirit craves such, and I deem that nowadays in this part of Middle Earth, only hither shalt thou find it."

"Then I am glad," Beinvír said, turning again to look at the vista beyond the window. Amongst the boughs hung a number of lamps with soft lights of blue, white, and green.

"Thou art welcome to stay so long as it pleases thee," Elrond told her, glad to see her return her gaze to him and smile. "There art many pleasant views to enjoy."

"I shalt look upon them with thanksgiving."

"Will thou join the company of Imladris for the evening meal?" Elrond asked Beinvír hopefully. "It might do thee good to speak with others not recently at war."

The Green Elf looked down at the floor and shivered. She was only just adjusting to surroundings not fraught with danger, not populated with enemies nearby, and not scented by the constant stench of death pervading all. Beinvír had found that she was unable to relax; the years of tension had driven the mechanism from her and she was long out of practice. She wasn't comfortable yet. Readjustment would take time and Beinvír couldn't yet imagine ever being the same as she had once been. It was too early.

"Perhaps one day I shalt enjoy such company as is available among thy folk…some conversation, some songs, perhaps, and camaraderie at meals. For now, I know not what I would say other than how best to stalk and slay. In moments of fancy would I see them all reduced to cadavers. Of late I hath been keeping company mostly with the dead." She shook her head apologetically and wrapped her arms around herself.

"When thou feel comfortable, thou may dine with my folk in the Meal Hall," Elrond suggested, "and in the evenings after supping do many gather in the Hall of Fire, for companionship, and songs, and tales. Thou shalt come thither and be welcome, Beinvír."

She nodded to him and he gave her a smile ere he retreated from her room.

Unlike Beinvír, Helluin took her meals in the Meal Hall. There, predictably, the company of Imladris questioned her much about the war. And unlike Beinvír, Helluin had no reticence in sharing the details of stalking and slaying. She shared her knowledge and experience, enthralling many but eventually turning the hearts of all to ice. They were soon horrified with her reminiscences and anecdotes. It made them all the more thankful for having retreated to their secret refuge. Upon this belief too she put forward her commentary, likening the hidden valley of Imladris to the hidden city of Gondolin; a self-deceiving illusion of safety all the more traumatic in its eventual fall. Soon she was regarded as a doomsday prophet and a depressing companion, and the Elves withdrew from her. Having spent so much time alone and being ever comfortable with her own company, Helluin barely noticed.

Each day Helluin spent many hours at the hospice in Beinvír's company. 'Twas obvious that they enjoyed each other's presence, for ever they sat close together, oft upon the benches of the long portico, enjoying the shade 'neath the canopy roof with its many columns carved like the trunks of straight, white birches. Mostly they were silent, staring off into the forest beyond the balustrade, watching the breeze tickle the leaves and listening to the songs of the stream that ran nearby.

Summer passed to autumn, and slowly Helluin became less morbid and Beinvír became less withdrawn. Elrond was happy with their progress.

Winter came early to the highland valley, with snow falling in early Hithui, (November), and carpeting the hidden valley deep in white. Now the silence that falls with snow hushed the retreat, and in that frosty air sounds were muffled close to hand, yet carried far from a distance. The two friends went out hiking, for both reveled in the unspoiled white, and they made their way to the meadow yon the Ford of Bruinen. About them the outer guard was hidden, both upon the red cliffs and 'nigh the defile leading into that land, and so they felt safe.

In the afternoon Helluin heard the clop of horses' hooves from beyond the narrow way, and the guards readied themselves above that passage. Helluin and Beinvír lowered themselves into the snow, disappearing in the manner of her people and becoming impossible to discern, even by the guards who knew of their presence.

Soon the sounds of the horses grew clear, riding up the path to the entrance of Imladris. Bows were readied and swords drawn. The riders entered the slot canyon between the cliffs. _Three they art and unwary,_ Helluin thought, trading a glance with Beinvír and sharing her insight. The Green Elf nodded in agreement; _their horses' paces show no hesitation, no duress,_ she replied.

Midway through the passage, when neither flight nor attack could outpace their arrows, the guards challenged the riders.

"Declare thyself, strangers, or thy lives art forfeit!"

The hoof beats stopped and after a short silence a voice, Elven fair, called out in answer.

"I am _Celebgorch_**¹, **a scout of the Laiquendi, and with me come my brothers, _Lumorn_ and _Ringlamb_**²**. We art messengers at large bearing tidings from the king in Lindon to any of the Elven kindred we may find," the rider declared.

**¹**(**Celebgorch, _"Silver Crow"_** **_celeb_** (silver) **+ _corch_** (crow) Sindarin) **²**(**Lumorn, _"Shade Tree"_ _lumb_** (shade) + **_orn_** (large tree) and **Ringlamb, _"Cold Tongue" __ring_** (cold) **+ _lamb_** (tongue) Sindarin)

"Dismount and proceed afoot through the cutting to its end." The guard captain ordered.

The three had walked their horses through the defile and stood at the top of the meadow while the guards came to lead them hence to the ford. They were dressed alike in grey cloaks, stained and worn from long travel. Straightaway they were brought to Elrond's study to wait for the Lord of Imladris.

"I want thee present when these scouts art heard," Elrond told the two friends, "for none know of this place, and to ride hither thus is very suspicious to me."

"To me as well," said Beinvír, "for my people seldom ride."

"Nor do they wear cloaks of grey," Helluin observed.

Elrond stopped at their words and then said, "Arm thyselves quickly and join me."

Helluin and Beinvír had nodded, and after retrieving their weapons, followed the Lord of Imladris into his study. The three visitors were seated there before his desk. They had put off their cloaks and were attired in tunics, trousers, and boots. The three bore identical gear, swords in scabbards, and daggers sheathed upon their belts. They eyed Helluin and Beinvír uneasily when they took up positions to either side of Elrond's chair.

"Thou hast come hither at great peril and I would hear thy tidings," Elrond said, "how stands the war?"

"My Lord," Celebgorch began, "we hath been sent by the king in Lindon to spread his plea for such aid as any may give. The war goes badly. Eriador hast fallen. Gorthaur's forces hath driven before them all the Eldar, even unto the River Lhûn. Even now the armies art encamped on opposite sides of the water for winter. Sauron hath taken to himself the title, _Hír en Ambar_**¹**, and when spring comes, he shalt crush the last of those standing against him. From mariners out of Belfalas we hath heard in Lindon of the coming of yet another host out of Mordor, Easterling Men who even now march toward Anduin, and shalt thence come to the battle in spring."

**¹**(**Hír en Ambar, _"Lord of the Earth"_ _hír_**(lord) + **_en_** (the)**_ + Am(b)ar_** (Earth, gen. const..) Sindarin)

"Save fugitives, a few wandering companies, and thyself, none others stand in defiance of Sauron, my Lord," Ringlamb said, "and when Lindon hast fallen, thence shalt Sauron come hither."

"And what of Númenor," Elrond asked, "Hath no word come of them? Hath no tidings of the Dúnedain been heard?"

"Naught hast been heard, my Lord," Lumorn said shaking his head. "Now even Gil-galad's hope fades of their sailing to the Hither Shores in time."

Elrond hung his head. His brother's people, it seemed, had deserted them. For a moment he wondered what could have kept them from coming after the promises Veantur had spoken in 600. Words of friendship, and of blood debts to one day be repaid; an alliance reiterated by Aldarion and Tar-Anarion, Tar-Telperien and Tar-Minastir. In an Age past their forefathers had ever been the staunchest of allies of the Eldar. Why had the Dúnedain not come? Elrond sighed.

Beside him Helluin thought of the past as well. In Beleriand all had seemed lost ere the Valar came forth with the Host of Aman, thence to do battle upon Morgoth and overthrow his rule. Middle Earth had been saved from the fate of everlasting thralldom 'neath the hand of the Great Enemy when Earendil had sailed thither to the Blessed Realm bearing the Silmaril and his petition.

Now it seemed to her that the peoples of Middle Earth stood upon the brink of defeat yet again. Sauron was but one last victory from his supremacy on the Hither Shores. Yet this time no mariner would come into the West. No token from Mortal Lands would again serve as a beacon of doom and move the Valar to mercy. And yet the Powers had sent forth Glorfindel, reborn to aid in contesting Sauron's conquest of Middle Earth. Why? If all were to fall before the Darkness, why had they sent forth such a bright and heroic spirit from their lands of peace unto these lands of war? It made no sense.

None had spoken for some moments, and now the first messenger begged the Lord of Imladris for his counsel.

"Would thou send none forth, Master Elrond?" Celebgorch asked. "Wilt thou not muster thy forces and ride forth against the army of our Enemy? In days to come, little wilt thy hidden valley avail thee should all else fall. He shalt seek thee in malice unconstrained and suffer thy folk to his torment. Wilt thou abandon thy king and thy people yet fighting upon the field?"

Elrond choked at his words. He was loyal to the Gil-galad, as was a son to his father. None upon Middle Earth commanded the _Peredhel's_ love in greater measure. And yet to preserve his people in Imladris he had moved not to war when Sauron's forces had marched south. He had remained in his hidden valley still when they had pushed west. In becoming lord of a people, he had sought their safety first, but now he was torn between his duty as a lord and his fealty to his liege. Would he ride to war and lead thence to their doom all his people? Would he hunker down amongst the mountains, coming not to the battle, no better than the Dúnedain, who, it seemed, had abandoned them? Would he return to the war, to his king, though all hope seemed lost, or would he remain hidden for a time, awaiting in his chosen place the final assault of Sauron? In the anguish of indecision he turned and looked Helluin in the eyes.

_I am unable to decide the course of this fell choice, for by action or inaction shalt I and my people be doomed,_ he said silently.

_Oft 'tis such the choice thrust upon a lord, my friend,_ Helluin replied,_ and for thy counsel I hath little to offer. My choice would be made for myself alone, for no lord am I, yet were the question put before me, I should ride forth to battle for I know no other way._

Elrond turned then to Beinvír and the same question was in his eyes.

_My Lord Elrond, I hath seen the battles of Eriador and they art terrible,_ the Green Elf silently replied,_ and indeed hope seems lost. Yet I wonder not about the message, but about the messengers. These name themselves Laiquendi, and yet they art not of my kindred. My people seldom ride, and never in lands filled with foes, and they hath not attached themselves as errand riders to thy king. These bear swords, but carry not one bow amongst them, and they cloak themselves in grey as do the Sindar. I am very suspicious, not of the tidings so much as the timing, for thy choice may naught but deliver thy people to slaughter. If thou come forth, then Sauron need not hunt thee. Indeed he may turn upon thee and destroy thee ere spring, while from across the Lune, Gil-galad shalt be powerless to aid thee, as thou shalt be powerless to come to him. I should stay hither yet a while. _

Her words brought a narrowing of Elrond's brows, and suspicion rose within him.

_If these came hither from the Enemy, then no longer is Imladris hidden. Sauron hath divined the place of our abiding and only time preserves us yet a while, _he said to the Green Elf, who nodded in agreement.

"Whence come thee," Beinvír asked the messengers, "from what company did thou join the muster of Eriador?"

"Why, from the company of our king," Lumorn said, "and loath he was to dispatch us to Lindon into the service of another lord."

At his words, Helluin moved, flinging the Sarchram and hewing off their heads. A rippling effect, as of a reflection broken by a stone cast into a pool, encompassed the three dead. Elrond recoiled in horror and Beinvír gasped. But the bodies that collapsed upon the floor were not those of Elves, and the blood that spilled from the stumps of their necks was black.

Dálindir, last King of the Laiquendi, was gone and no king reigned o'er the Green Elves.

"Foul arts of Sauron!" Elrond shouted in horror as he leapt up from his chair. At the commotion a detail of soldiers burst into the room with drawn swords.

"Send word to triple the guard upon the pass," Elrond ordered his warriors, "and send others to remove these bodies."

The guards nodded and hastened forth, calling out to others as they hustled through the hallway. Soon many voices could be heard raising the alarm and many feet moving with haste. Helluin wiped clean the Grave Wing.

"'Tis a fell power Gorthaur wields, to maintain such an illusion at so great a distance," Helluin observed. "Perhaps 'tis the power of his Ring that enhances his own werecraft. They certainly looked like Elves." She nudged one of the dead, rolling it onto its back with her toe. It was definitely the corpse of an Orch.

"Sauron hast attempted to entrap thee," Beinvír stated, "and only fortune hath preserved thee. I should now wonder what next he shalt attempt."

"One thing of value hath come of this," Helluin said, "for I deem these messengers spoke true on the state of the war. Indeed I should be not surprised if he spoke through them and they but the feet to being hence his voice. It goes well for their master and he who controlled them would be wont to brag, presenting the truth all the more for our despair. Dire must now be the position of Gil-galad."

Afterwards Helluin thought much on the status of the war. Though Gil-galad had refused to summon her years before, Helluin still felt that she could aid the plight of her people, and now more than ever, their fate seemed to encompass the plight of all free peoples. Indeed whether her aid was given to the high king in Lindon or to the other enemies of Sauron, she deemed 'twas the responsibility of all who were able to act to do so. There might come no second chance. And yet beyond this feeling was a growing certainty that aid would come and Sauron would be defeated. Good and evil had contested in each movement of the Ainur's Song…but evil had never won! As the days passed and her hope grew, Helluin became more and more convinced that her place was in battle. When spring came she would march again to war if it found them not first in Imladris. With the other Eldar she waited, and she wondered what to tell Beinvír.

In the wake of Sauron's agents no attack came. In truth, the Enemy was content to concentrate upon defeating the king's forces ere he turned east to finish with Elrond. Had his false messengers succeeded in drawing Elrond out, he would have capitalized on the situation, destroying the Elven forces at his back, but the loss of the opportunity damaged not his plans. Spring would bring the fall of Gil-galad, early summer the extermination of the company in Imladris, and by autumn, Lórinand would be under siege. By the next winter he would hold all the Rings of Power. It was a short time to wait.

Along with his contentment Sauron had reaped information. Not only had the three thralls been mouthpieces for his voice, but they had been ears for him to hear with and eyes for him to see through. He had marked the presence of those of his enemies they had seen in Imladris and this allowed him to remove these from the roster of potential threats. Helluin, Elrond, and Celeborn would trouble him not in the spring.

In mid-Nínui, (February), the weather gave the first hint of the warmth to come. Snowmelt swelled the Bruinen and first white _uilos_**¹** of the new year raised their pale blossoms. In another month the armies would break camp and reengage, for the campaigning season would open. For Helluin, 'twas now or never.

**¹**(**Uilos, _Evermind,_** Sindarin. A low growing, white, star-shaped flower that blooms in all seasons; seen on the sward between the 4th and 5th Gates of Gondolin by Tuor. May be synonymous with Simbelmyrnë. UT, OTaHCtG, pg. 48)

"I want you to stay here, beloved. Thy part in this war is done."

"Yet thou shalt go forth again, when there is little hope for aught but defeat. Indeed, between thee and the battle lie all the hosts of the Enemy. There is naught thou can accomplish, I deem, save thine own destruction."

"Nay, 'tis not so. Long ago did I spy out passages through these lands that Sauron knows not. I can make my way thither to Lindon unseen, and all the easier for thy lessons. In doing so I can bring to the king such reports from behind the enemy lines as he can gain in no other way. Yet more, I may wreck some havoc on my own part."

"Still 'tis a hopeless quest. What if thou indeed come to Lindon unscathed? Only to join in a defeat wills't thou hath come."

"I wonder…if such is indeed our doom, why then did the Valar send forth Glorfindel from Aman? Whyfore did he come, if only to the nightfall of his people? Nay. I feel more is to be than our defeat."

"That what? That Númenor shalt come at last? Helluin, thou art hopeful, yes, but do not deceive thyself that the deliverance of the First Age shalt come again. Once only can such a doom be wrested by a host out of the west. In this lesser time, perhaps 'tis the rule of Darkness and Shadow that is ahead, for so it seems to me."

"Perhaps Númenor shalt indeed come at last. Some ill chance certainly befell them, for I doubt not the resolve of our allies, nor the capability of their ships. We came hither from Romenna, passing but four days upon the water. Something happened five years ago; I am sure of it. For no other reason would they deny our call. Yet in the time since, perhaps they hath o'ercome whatever ill fate withheld their aid from us. I hath faith that help shalt come."

"Doth thou truly believe thus?"

"I do."

And looking into Helluin's eyes, Beinvír rejoiced, for she saw the light and the clear blue she had once known, not the raging darkness or obsessive malice of the last few years. Therein too lay the conviction in her belief.

"Must thou go now, when at last thou hast finally become thyself again?"

"Yea, for not only do I believe in the deliverance of the free peoples from Sauron, but my king needs the aid of his subjects too. There was truth amidst the messengers' lies."

"Not at the start did he want thy service. Now when no summons hath come, wilt thou answer such as thou would hear despite his silence?"

"I am sure his heart calls out to any that will listen, but he hath no way to project so far his voice. In this too hath some good come of Sauron's puppets. I shalt march forth on the morrow. Sit now with me awhile. The portico is peaceful, the day pleasant for its season, and I much desire to be near thee ere I go."

And so they sat as the morning passed to afternoon and thence down to evening. On the next morning Helluin donned again her armor and took up her weapons.

"Here I shalt await thee, and if by some chance thou can make thy way hither after the battle, then here thou shalt find me" Beinvír said as they stood together by the pass through the red cliffs. "But if thou fall and Sauron comes, then in the Halls of Mandos shalt I await thee. Either hither or thither shalt we meet again,_ melethril_."

"So we shalt, and a joyous meeting it shalt be upon either shore, yet I hath faith that 'tis here I shalt find thee."

After a long hug and a deep kiss Helluin was gone, the only warrior from Imladris to rejoin the battle. Only later did Elrond learn of Helluin's leave-taking and it increased his own conflicted feelings about his role and the role of his people in the war. Unlike Helluin, he had no confidence in his ability to aid Gil-galad or even to make his way across Eriador with his warriors, and so he stayed in Imladris and his people maintained their vigilance.

**To Be Continued**


	38. In An Age Before Chapter 38

**In An Age Before – Part 38**

The month of Nínui was ended and Gwaeron had come with intermittent rains and a warming of the air. Helluin had made her way down Bruinen and through the rough lands to Mitheithel, then passing through the rolling country to the west, had come nigh the row of uplands that would be later known as the Weather Hills. Despite the presence of Sauron's eastern forces she had traveled fast, and indeed not since she had raced from the Ered Wethrin to Avernien had she kept such a pace. Along the way, by the arts of the Laiquendi that she had learned from Beinvír, she had remained undetected and had slain but three dozens in the speed of her passage. Save those near the Bruinen, few of the enemy now lingered so far east. Those that she slew, Yrch and a handful of Easterlings, she deemed but deserters from Sauron's eastern army. It earned them no mercy from her sword. Now though, unlike in the past, she left them where they fell.

In the second week of Gwaeron, (March), Sauron ordered his western forces to prepare for battle and the encampments east of the River Lune came alive. Troops moved up to the eastern bank and set afloat the myriad craft that would bring them against Lindon.

Across the water, Gil-galad rallied his dwindling forces, and oft did he look to the southwest, where his Elven eyes could discern the sparkle on the waters of the gulf. Ever he hoped to see the great ships of Númenor riding up from Belegaer, but they did not come. The high king had 12,000 soldiers and knights under his command; across the Lune 49,000 foes awaited their master's order to attack. Two furlongs from his position on the western bank, he could easily see the rafts and barges, the troop carriers of his enemies, waiting along the shore. The east bank was black with them, and at night, the lands across the river were speckled with campfires, numerous and red as a spray of blood.

The eastern precincts of Mithlond and all of Harlindon had been evacuated the previous fall, but so far the enemy hadn't bothered with them. They had congregated further north where the river was narrower and easier for their troops to cross. Sauron would try to trap his host against the Ered Luin, crossing and coming against him from the east and the north. And eventually, even if the Eldar succeeded in retreating south, it would be a route. The king's front was too wide to be defended with the numbers he had, while his enemy had the numbers to strike at him on at least two battlefronts.

Helluin had reached the fair and rolling country of central Eriador by 8 Gwaeron, and passed up the Baranduin towards Lake Nenuial. Now the land was hushed, trampled by many iron-shod feet, and the waters of the gentle stream were fetid. Henceforth she moved with even greater caution, for she was within 50 leagues of the River Lune. Everyday it seemed she encountered more of Sauron's support troops; hunters, gatherers, errand riders, scouts, and rear guard. She slew any she could on principle, deeming every blow struck against the enemy to be a help to her cause.

As Helluin moved further west the deployment of the enemy gave her clues to their battle plans. She managed to discern much of Sauron's strategy and found it posed an immense threat to the high king. Somehow it had to be thwarted, yet what could one warrior do, no matter how deadly, against the numbers she believed would attack?

On 11 Gwaeron Helluin came to the lakeshore and saw the waters ripe with the floating corpses of Yrch, black, bloated, and reeking. They had been slain by the arrows of the Green Elves. Her hope rose at the sight; perhaps she could find a way.

Now Helluin warily followed the shore to the north, coming to the Emyn Uial on the 13th, and in stealth she moved amongst the highlands, continuing northwest. There, on the morning of the 14th, she found an encampment of the Laiquendi, a couple dozen only, and she took two of their sentries. Coming into their camp, holding the Green Elves at swordpoint, she demanded to speak with their commander. At their campfire sat none other than Tórferedir, the King's Hunter. She shook her head in amazement, not sure whether she was more surprised that he was still in command or that he was still alive.

_"Helluin en Mórgolodh,_**¹**_"_ he groaned, obviously displeased to see her again, _"Leitho daugin nin!_**²**_" _**¹**(**Helluin en Mórgolodh, _Helluin the Black Exile, _**Sindarin) ** ²**(**Leitho daugin nin, _Release my warriors, _**** _leitho- _**(v. release) + **_-o _**(imp) +**_ daug_** (warrior) + **_-in_**(pl) + **_nin_** (my) Sindarin)

In a heartbeat two-dozen archers had knocked arrows and taken aim at Helluin.

_"Conno daugin cin echádad tovon ping huin!_**¹**_"_ Helluin demanded as she nudged the two sentries forward with her sword. **¹**(**Conno daugin cin echádad tovon ping huin, _Order thy warriors to lower (make low) their bows! conno _**(v. imp, order) + **_daug_** (warrior) + **_-in_**(pl) + **_cin _**(your) +**_ echád_** (make) + **_-ad_** (inf, to) + **_tovon_** (low) + **_ping_** (pl, bows for shooting) + **_huin_** (their) Sindarin)

Tórferedir watched her warily as she advanced. After their previous meeting five years before he had learned every story about her that was told amongst his people.

_"Echád tovon ping lin,_**¹**_"_ he finally ordered. _"Angol bera hen_**.²**" **¹**(**Echád** **tovon ping lin, _Lower your bows, echád_** (make) + **_tovon_** (low) + **_ping_** (pl, bows for shooting) + **_lin_** (pl your) Sindarin) **²**(**Angol bera hen,** **_Some sorcery protects her,_ _ angol_**(ar.) (indef art, some sorcery) + **_bera_** (pres ind v, protects) + **_hen_** (dir obj, her) Sindarin)

The archers slowly and reluctantly lowered their bows and relaxed the tension on their strings. Helluin withdrew a step and sheathed her sword. The two sentries breathed sighs of relief and stepped further away from her, then bowed to their general.

"What do you want with us, Helluin?" Tórferedir asked.

"I need thy help on behalf of my king. Within days he shalt be o'erwhelmed. Upon the hither shore of the Lune is gathered the Host of Sauron. When they cross, Gil-galad shalt be assailed from both the north and the east. He cannot fight both fronts, and either he shalt be forced against the Ered Luin and destroyed or driven south in a rout with many afoot left behind. Gorthaur takes no prisoners who would not prefer death. I need thy aid to assault and counter his forces."

Tórferedir could only stare at her in horror. She spoke of open warfare, a thing not done by the Laiquendi since their disastrous victory at Amon Ereb, in the darkness under the stars two Ages before ere the Noldor returned to Middle Earth. Assailing the Host of Sauron was a terrifying idea, but little more terrifying than Helluin herself. At least the Yrch could be slain. 'Twas said the Black Exile bore some enchantment to ward off arrows and darts, the thrusts of spears and the blades of swords. They bit not upon her flesh.

"Thou shalt lead us all to our deaths," he groaned.

"Nay! Harken to me! Thou shalt surely die if thou dost not attack when the advantage is with thee," she said forcefully, "for thou shalt be taken here after the battle if thou doth not heed me."

She saw their fear, but also that their eyes were all turned to her, even the general's. Now she continued in a more reasonable tone, cajoling them and presenting them with a plan. They knew the lands to the west better than any, certainly better than Sauron.

"If we cross the River Lune, we can come upon the rear of such of the Host of Sauron as seek to drive against Gil-galad from the north. We can draw off much of the foe and leave the king to fight those coming against him from the east. Should our gambit fail, then to the Ered Luin can we withdraw, and safer there thou shalt be than in the Emyn Uial. The Blue Mountains were once thy homelands and even the east faces of the mountains did thy people once roam."

She saw some amongst them some nodding in agreement. The Ered Luin had once been the Ered Lindon and beyond still lay the last remnants of Ossiriand. Even Tórferedir was weighing her words with deep concentration, staring out to the west at the distant heights.

"Tell me," she asked, "how many art thou?"

The general looked back up at her and for some moments made no reply. Then with a deep sigh he answered, "Eight thousands art mustered."

A grin curled his lips as he saw the amazement on Helluin's face.

"How soon can they be moved across the Lune?"

"By the end of two days," he said with certainty, "most art within 50 miles."

"Tórferedir, I know thou neither like nor trust me," Helluin said, "but thou can see the working of my plan and thou know thy warriors. Can we make this come to pass?"

He took a deep breath and looked to the sky. Silently he calculated and realized that it was possible, but yet more, he felt a lightness of heart that had been absent for too many long years. It was nothing less than the return of hope.

"Even if we find not victory, still shalt we inflict such slaughter upon our foes that long shalt they rue their coming to our lands. 'Tis a better alternative than any we hath discerned," he admitted. After a pause he added, "and I should like to stand again, and perhaps die, upon the lands I once walked in peace under the stars. We shalt make it happen." For the first time in years it seemed, he smiled.

Helluin nodded and sat down where she stood, breathing a great sigh of relief. Then Tórferedir stood and gave instructions to two of his archers. One immediately came to the fire and kindled an arrow that he shot into the western sky. The arrow streaked upwards, leaving a trail of black as it rose high into the heavens. The other hastened west on foot.

Then all 'round them in the hills there was movement. Figures rose from concealment and stood, and all began moving west. Somewhere to the east another arrow took flight, and then in the far distance yet another. From the Emyn Uial and the lands of northern Eriador to the east and west, the Host of the Laiquendi began marching to the River Lune. Helluin watched in amazement. Though she could make no accurate count, it seemed as if hundreds moved within the circle of her sight. Across the camp, the King's Hunter stood and shouldered his bow, quiver, and a travel bag. There were no tents, no wagons, no camp furnishings, and no pack animals. In a few minutes all evidence of the campsite had been obliterated and he and the others she had found were walking away towards the river that lay 75 miles to their west.

"Come as thou can, Helluin," he called back over his shoulder, "and we shalt meet thee upon the thither shore. We muster at noon in two days."

Here again was called a muster at a place and time prearranged. She could only nod in agreement. In forty-eight hours an invisible army would lie in wait for the Yrch and Easterlings when they crossed. Helluin waved to him, then lay down looking up at the clouds and breathed a sigh of relief. Her hope had grown to a possibility.

The early evening of 16 Gwaeron found Helluin on the western bank of the River Lune, about 100 miles south of its lower western tributary. This spot was across the Lune from the mouth of the river that flowed down from the Emyn Uial to the east.

Helluin and the Green Elves had crossed the Lune to the north of that eastern tributary, while to the south of it Sauron's Northern Host waited for the command to cross and march to begin their attack. South of the Laiquendi's position on the western shore lay the rolling fields between the Lune and the Ered Luin, and perhaps 20 miles beyond, the northernmost companies of Gil-galad.

The Laiquendi had positioned themselves in a line running southwest as it moved inland, and had formed a battlefront extending from the riverbank to about three miles inland. Their archers maintained no lines, but they were of sufficient numbers to maintain a deadly and continuous fire. Here they waited in silence, undetectable even from a dozen yards, and completely unsuspected by their foes across the river. They had arrived with but hours to spare.

In the early morning of 17 Gwaeron, Sauron's forces began their crossing in the darkness. 'Twas just after midnight and the light of a half-moon shone down as flecks of silver tossed upon the waters. Amidst that reflected beauty it seemed as if the surface was covered with an evil flotsam of well 'nigh a thousand rafts and barges bearing the Glamhoth west across the river. They came in silence and without torches, hoping to maintain the secrecy of their presence as long as possible, the better to fall unexpected upon the Elven Host to the south. Soon the first of them had landed and the Laiquendi could hear the hated speech of the Yrch.

It took four hours for the enemy to mass on the western shore. There they milled about in a disorganized gaggle, ill tempered as was their nature, cursing and shoving their fellows. During that time, the Green Elves moved silently forward, bringing themselves to within twenty yards of their foes. And when at last all the Yrch had debarked, Tórferedir himself fired the first arrow, taking a captain of the Glam in the eye.

Then from the bows of the Laiquendi came a rain of bolts out of the dark, and these slammed into the squealing masses of the Glamhoth, dropping them by the score. The Yrch drew back, some even trying to reboard their craft, but these their own captains slew as an example ere they could flee, for they would tolerate no desertion. In the darkness of the early morning, bows sang and arrows whistled in a constant hissing fall, dense as sleet and cold as death. The Yrch retreated south and the Laiquendi followed in silence. In the tall grasses 'nigh the riverbank, Tórferedir's warriors advanced after their enemy, maintaining the engagement. They were so close that they aimed not at bodies, but at the fear brightened eyes of their enemies.

In desperation a company of two hundred Yrch charged forward, driven on by the guttural cursing of their captain. They broke through the lines of the Laiquendi ere they even knew it, but the Green Elves fell back before them, letting them advance without resistance until they were surrounded in a pocket of archers. Then they destroyed the Yrch one by one, shooting until all were slain. The lines of bowmen reformed, and save for the screams in the night nothing was heard of the doomed sortie. There had come no clash of weapons, no screams or battle cries. The troops had simply disappeared. The captains of the Glamhoth ordered the retreat to the south quickened. 'Twas an unruly mob that fled thus from the archers towards the coming day's battle.

As the night progressed to the second hour of the battle, the Yrch hastened south and the Glamhoth became stretched into a thick line as the most terrified fled outright and those most cowed by their leaders lingered in jostling companies. Tórferedir ordered his archers to draw their lines inwards to the river so they paralleled the bank, lengthening somewhat the front, the better to take advantage of their foes' extended right flank. Now more targets were revealed and the Yrch fell more quickly. All through the waning hours of darkness the killing continued as the battle moved south, and when at last the sun rose, the long shadows of the Yrch, gangling and black, revealed their flight along the river.

16,000 had crossed, and by dawn well o'er half had fallen. Now with the light the Elven archers saw their targets yet clearer, and having denied them any chance of movement inland, found them strung out over almost a mile. Into this rout they poured arrows, sending into flight bloody shafts torn from the bodies of the dead that they had overtaken as they advanced. They maintained their stealth, firing at the silhouettes the low sun revealed, never rising to shoot, and providing no certain targets for the enemy to counterattack against. Of the Yrch who bore bows, most had shot their arrows into the darkness, but so few had struck targets that the Laiquendi hadn't even bothered targeting the archers. Instead they shot any sure target, making their arrows count and trusting in their numbers to hold at bay any more sorties against them. The killing continued without respite as Anor rose higher.

In the third hour of the morning, after a running battle of seven hours, Sauron's Northern Host was reduced to a few hundreds fleeing south in terror. Then the foremost companies of the Green Elves sprinted to outpace their enemy's loping strides and finally their circle was completed. The last of the Yrch found arrows coming at them from the fore and well as their right flank and rear, and they drew to a halt, screaming and waving their weapons. To their left lay the river and the wide waters of the Lune offered no escape.

At the last, the Laiquendi rose to their feet, standing for a moment ere their final volley filled the air with hissing shafts. For a few final moments the Yrch were shocked at how close their enemies actually were. Then the song of bowstrings releasing sounded a harmonic that reverberated, as the hum from a thousand hives, which could be felt in the ground as much as heard in the air. In those moments it seemed that a black and rushing haze darkened the space between the enemies, as if all the bees of the fields raced upon a stand of quavering flowers. The thud of arrows striking flesh sounded as a rolling of drums, and finally there came silence.

The Laiquendi looked about themselves. Not a single Orch moved. Of their host, 'twas later found that not even two hundreds had been lost. And so, after well nigh 2,500 years, the losses of Amon Ereb were avenged. Tórferedir raised his voice in a song of victory and his warriors added their voices so that upon the eastern side of the Ered Lindon, the westernmost lands of Eriador recalled the green forests of Ossiriand, easternmost in Beleriand of old, Lindon, the Land of Singing.

When they were done with their song of rejoicing and triumph, they sought Helluin, for now they had come to respect her at last. But they found her not, for even as that final deadly hail of arrows had exterminated the last of their foes, she had taken her way south in haste. Four leagues downstream waited the northernmost companies of the king.

**To be Continued**

6


	39. In An Age Before Chapter 39

**In An Age Before – Part 39**

_Author's Note: In UT, Ch 4, HoCaG, pg 239, it is said, _"In 1695, when Sauron invaded Eriador, Gil-galad called on Númenor for aid. Then Tar-Minastir the King sent out a great navy; but it was delayed, and did not reach the coasts of Middle Earth until the year 1700." _JRRT_

_I hate to say it, but this seems ridiculous! First, in the preceding Chapter 3, TLoE:KoN, Tar-Minastir didn't take the scepter and become king until 1731, upon the death of his aunt, Queen Tar-Telperien, though this contradiction was later amended. 1731 was long after the war ended. Second, in Karen Fonstad's Atlas of Middle Earth, the distance from Romenna, the port of Númenor, to Mithlond, the port of Lindon, is only about 1,900 miles by sea. A ship making only six knots would cover that distance in thirteen days! The Númenóreans were, at that time, the greatest mariners in Middle Earth. The idea that they took five years to travel to Mithlond is utterly unbelievable. I can only accept this timeframe if some disaster in Númenor kept the navy from sailing until a couple weeks before it arrived. Any disaster at sea sufficient to delay the Dúnedain for five years would have caused such high casualties that they wouldn't have arrived with their army in fighting condition._

_In this chapter I have cleaved to the amended timeline which dates the reign of Tar-Minastir as starting in 1691, and I have fabricated a chain of events to explain the delay of the Númenórean navy under Ciryatur. I simply couldn't work within canon on this._**

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**Chapter Twenty-seven**

_**The Coming of the Númenóreans, Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now Helluin raced beside the river, knowing that since Sauron had ordered his Northern Host across the Lune, his Southern Host was even now crossing the river too. She could perceive his strategy; that the Northern Host should have come to the fighting already underway and thence crashed against the left flank of Gil-galad's forces when they were bitterly embattled. In an hour she drew near, and she had seen the rafts and troop carriers of Sauron's Host upon the water in the last miles. Many thousands they were, indeed by her guess, twice the number of those already slain. She kept moving, expecting at any moment to come upon the king's cavalry, but still she found them not. Only did she see the abandoned campsites and bivouacs of the army, for it had withdrawn that very morn, leaving the countryside empty and undefended. Helluin was alone in a land under siege, the only warrior of the Eldar in a country soon to be overrun by 33,000 enemies.

She could do naught but groan at her fortune and follow the hoof prints of the cavalry's horses, and so she continued on her way. Already some of the advance parties of the Glamhoth were landing, and some marked her flight with a few arrows, but these were poorly aimed and they hindered not her passing. Now her race was become desperate, and with each minute that passed, the Yrch were less and less preoccupied with their landing. Soon they would be willing to run her down for sport. She sprinted, thankful that her armor was of mithril rather than the much heavier steel. Danger and purpose gave her feet wings; she would run all the way to Mithlond if necessary, though that road was 70 miles and she would surely be killed ere she arrived.

At a riding pace for an ordered retreat, the cavalry of Gil-galad had made about 12 miles in the first three hours after dawn, and in the time of Helluin's dash, another 3. But they had left a rearguard following the main host, and that rode two leagues behind. It was upon these that Helluin first came in the fifth hour of the morning. She called out to them at two furlong's distance, seeing the dust of their riding growing ever closer as she closed upon it. None stopped. She put on a burst of speed, drawing close enough to taste the dust that had arisen behind them, and hailed them again. Those rearmost of the riders slowed a bit, looking behind them through the dust. Finally three turned back and rode hard towards her. She came to a halt to await them, hands upon her knees, panting and gasping for breath.

"No infantry should be here," said one knight, "whyfore art thou in this land?"

"Consider me a supernumerary ally," Helluin choked out, then paused to spit a mouthful of dust laced phlegm, "I hath come in haste from the Laiquendi in the north. Just two hours past we hath destroyed Sauron's Northern Host."

The knights looked upon her tidings with amazement. From all too close by they heard the hooting calls of Yrch disembarking from their rafts. They had been seen. The closest knight reached one arm down to Helluin and helped her to mount behind him, and then they wheeled their steeds and raced in pursuit of the rest of their company at a gallop. During their ride none spoke but to urge on their horses with soft words of encouragement. After ten minutes they rejoined the rearguard, but these were now proceeding at a canter rather than at a trot. They did not stop.

The miles passed as the sun climbed to the noon, while behind them more and more of the enemy made their way ashore. Yet now the river widened and most of the landings lay behind them to the north. Still they slowed not their pace and Helluin was happy for their haste. She had escaped by a hair.

'Twas mid-afternoon when they came to the outskirts of Mithlond. There the cavalry had rejoined the infantry that had withdrawn the day before. A great encampment had been hastily erected and the company brought their horses to the pickets and dismounted. Then the knights, with Helluin tagging along, made their way to a large tent o'er which flew a deep blue standard bearing a single rayed star.

Guards challenged them at the entrance, and the captain, his lieutenant, and Helluin were admitted. The rest were dismissed by their officers and they made their way to the mess for their much delayed noon meal.

Within the tent was set a large table upon which were spread maps of the campaign. There sat the High King, Gil-galad, Glorfindel, and Galdor. But more surprising to Helluin, with them sat three of the Dúnedain. Helluin eyed them with hope, wondering if these had been with the king since the start of the war, or if they were newly come from Westernesse. She marked the reactions of all at her unexpected appearance. The king nervously twisted his hands, Glorfindel offered her a smile, Galdor sat still but gave her a nod, and the Dúnedain gaped at her. _Definitely from Westernesse,_ she thought with joy, _and one amongst them looks familiar, though such an effect hast been seen aforetime. _

"My Lord," Helluin said in greeting as she bowed to the king.

"Helluin," Gil-galad said, acknowledging her and then lapsing into silence, seemingly not knowing what else to say. The captain she had ridden in with gave her a look.

"_Non meren govannad cin_**¹**" Glorfindel said, giving Helluin a wider smile.

**¹**(**Non meren govannad cin, _I am joyous(happy) to meet(see) you,_** **_no-_**(am)** + _-n_**(subj. suff., I) **+ _meren_**(joyous) + **_govanno-_**(meet) + **_-ad_**(inf., to) + **_cin_**(dir. obj., you) Sindarin)

"_A Im cin, mellon nin_**¹** Helluin replied warmly.

**¹**(**A Im cin, mellon nin, _And I you, my friend,_** **_a_**(and) **_Im_**(subj. pro., I) + **_cin_**(you) + **_mellon_**(friend) + **_nin_**(my) Sindarin)

"My Lord, Helluin hast somewhat to report, for we found her newly come from battle in the north," the captain said, gaining Gil-galad's attention. The king looked now at Helluin expectantly and nodded, bidding her speak.

"I hath come recently from battle upon the western bank of the Lune. About 65 miles to the north was that field fought. There, by the Host of the Laiquendi, was the Northern Host of Sauron worsted."

The king looked at her in amazement and Glorfindel chuckled.

"But I hath always believed the Laiquendi scattered, disorganized, and few," Gil-galad uttered in disbelief. "Hast thou marshaled them into companies of war? How many is their count? Whither art they now? Who commands them?"

"No, 8,000, north, Tórferedir," Helluin answered.

"Incredible," the king said in wonder, "and what of Sauron's Host…those defeated?"

"The Northern Host of the Enemy numbered 16,000 and began crossing the Lune in the first hour past midnight last. They were to fall upon thy forces this afternoon while'st thou were embattled, no doubt. After allowing them some hours to complete their landings and commit themselves upon the hither shore, the Laiquendi commenced to shooting them. Once begun, never did they cease. They were victorious in the third hour past dawn and the Glamhoth lay utterly destroyed. Indeed, none survived."

It was not lost on the Men of Númenor that an army of 8,000 bowmen had slaughtered a host numbering twice their count and this they marked as a deed of renown, for archery had long been, amongst the Dúnedain, a highly celebrated skill. 'Twas a great victory by any standard, but in this case it was nothing less than deliverance. They had not expected the assault by an additional force from the north.

"My friend, it seems thou hast been well occupied," Glorfindel said, "and thy most recent stroke against Gorthaur shalt cost him dear. Now for the first time he is outnumbered, for I deem he hath less than 35,000 troops remaining in Eriador."

"I make his forces 36,000 in all, but 3,000 of these art in the east maintaining the leaguer of Imladris," Helluin said. But by his words, Glorfindel had confirmed that the Dúnedain had arrived at last, for even counting the Laiquendi, the total strength of the Eldar in western Eriador was but 20,000. What allies other than the Dúnedain would come in such numbers? Helluin nodded her appreciation to him, and then added, "I hath heard a report that a third host hast issued from Mordor of late, and 'tis composed mostly of Easterling Men. It may arrive within the month."

"How come thee by such tidings, Helluin?" Gil-galad asked, still amazed.

"Indeed from the mouth of Sauron himself," she said, shocking the others, "for to Elrond in Imladris came three claiming to be of the Green Elves. They feigned a message from thee requesting aid against the forces assaulting Lindon, and revealed a third host coming to the battle. However their deception was revealed and they were dispatched."

The king ground his teeth in anger at this, saying, "Herein is the second time thou hast revealed the Master of Lies using my name in vain to support his falsehoods. Why think thou that any words from his mouth art true?"

"Because a good lie stretches rather than refutes the truth, and because he is a braggart."

The others nodded in agreement.

"Ciryatur, doth thou believe thy force in Lond Daer Ened can counter this new threat?" Gil-galad asked, addressing the Dúnadan seated upon his right. This was the Man whom Helluin thought familiar.

"Indeed I do, my Lord King," Ciryatur answered confidently, "for if Sauron's host doth number 50,000 as thou hast claimed did his main host aforetime, then he shalt be matched in numbers, yet o'ermatched in prowess."

"Thou hast landed 50,000 upon Vinyalonde?" Helluin asked in amazement.

"They should be there already, for their way was shorter than ours, and though the facilities there art not so fine as thy havens here, still should they be mustered and ready to make war in Enedwaith upon any foes in that country. Our army is fully equipped for a campaign of long duration against bitter opposition. The force we hath landed here is the same."

"50,000 thou hast brought hither to Lindon at last?" Helluin couldn't resist asking. She recalled the assurances of Tar-Telperien and Minastir when last she had visited Armenelos in late 1601.

"Aye, Helluin. Though long delayed, we hath come in force as was once promised to thee by the late queen," Ciryatur said apologetically, "and none too soon it seems."

"Indeed so," the king agreed, "at the very last breath of our hope hast thou come."

Helluin had many more questions and hoped she'd have a chance to ask them. The king had fallen silent as had the others at the table. She stood in matching silence with the captain and the lieutenant, waiting for someone to speak. At last the king spoke.

"Helluin, I know thou favor combat afoot, and more, I would appoint one of our kindred to fight beside our allies. Go thou with Ciryatur and his host to the battle," he ordered, effectively removing Helluin from his concern. In truth, he knew not what else to do with her. He could not have commanded any fate more welcome to her.

"Thy wish is my command," Helluin said with a bow. Her smile was perplexing to the king, but he forced it from his mind in favor of ordering the coming battle.

So Helluin went from the tent in the company of one of Ciryatur's lieutenants, and they made their way to the bivouac of the Dúnedain. Never had she recalled being pestered so constantly for answers to so many questions. The lieutenant, named Bregor for the great-grandfather of Beren, had obviously heard many stories of her and asked after her life as if he were a scribe or loremaster contemplating her biography.

_Yes, I knew Elros Tar-Minyatur. Yes, I knew King Tar-Elendil. Yes, I was the great-grandmother of the first queen, Tar-Ancalime, _(that royal bitch, Helluin thought)_. Yes, I knew the Captain-Admiral Falmandil. The Captain-Admiral Veantur? Of course I knew him…I was married to him for nearly 400 years! Sheesh! Yes, I really lived in Aman. And yes, Tar-Telperien looked just like me in her youth, or so I heard from Ciryandur aboard Rámaen in 1375. _

"Ahhh-ha! Thou knew our Lord Admiral's grandfather, Ciryandur!" Bregor exclaimed.

_Well, I hath gotten at least one answer amidst all his questions, _Helluin thought, _that explains why Ciryatur looks so familiar! The Ship Lord is scion of a noble seafaring family, grandson to the Ship Master, and therefore Falmandil's great-grand nephew._

At last they came to a field northeast of the walls of Mithlond and there were set what appeared to be 10,073 tents. Helluin noted that roughly two-thirds were colored a subdued green and the rest deep blue. She raised a brow in question.

"The infantry is housed in the green tents," Bregor explained, "for such a color serves better to blend in with the fields and hills. Deep blue art the tents of the cavalry."

Helluin nodded, understanding his logic, though to her Elvish eyes both colors stood out equally garish upon the landscape. Yet perhaps to the eyes of Yrch or Men, such passed for camouflage, she thought. The Laiquendi would certainly hath been amused.

Bregor made arrangements for Helluin to occupy a smallish tent nearby to those of the commanders in the center of the encampment. There she had use of a cot, a chair, and a small table. She was happy to find that she was to share her space with no other. Sensing a wait ahead, she took the chair and set it before the tent flap, and there she sat in the afternoon light attending to her weapons and armor. Helluin noted that most of the Dúnedain, it seemed, found some excuse to walk past her tent, gawking at her with varying degrees of subtlety. She ignored them for the most part, for they addressed her not, and thus she awaited the return of the commanders.

'Twas after two hours, and just an hour ere sunset, when a servant found her and came to stand self-consciously before her. Helluin looked up as his shadow presented itself on the ground before her and noted that he was really a boy of early-teen years, a page perhaps, or an apprentice. Helluin noted that his hair was very dark, well 'nigh black, and his eyes were blue rather than the more common grey. She waited for him to speak. After clearing his throat and perfecting his posture, he bowed and addressed her.

"My Lady, I am sent hither by my lord, Ciryatur, to convey thee to the Officers' Board. The evening meal is set and many tidings art to be spoken concerning the prosecution of the campaign."

Helluin favored him with a smile, hoping to put him more at ease and said, "I thank thee and thy lord for my inclusion at thy board. Indeed a meal would be welcome. I am Helluin. Pray tell me thy name?"

The boy smiled back at her, bowed again, and said, "I am called _Rívelen_**¹**,son of _Nentírindo_**¹**.

**¹(Rívelen,_ Winter Star,_**_ **ríve**_(winter) + **_elen_**(star). **Nentírindo, _Water_ _Watcher, __nen_**(water) + **_tíre-_**(watch) **_+ -(in)do_**(masc. agent) both Quenya)

Helluin nodded to him and asked, "Wherefrom in Númenor doth thou hail?"

"From Andustar, my Lady," Rívelen answered as Helluin rose from her chair to join him. "My fatheris cousin to _Elendur_**¹,** the ninth Lord of Andunië."

**¹**(**Elendur, _Star_** **_Studier(_Astronomer), ****_elen_**(star) + **-_-ndur_**(agent in names, expert of) Quenya)

Helluin returned her chair to her tent and then moved to stand beside Rívelen.

"Well, Rívelen, show me thence to the Officer's Board, and I shalt tell thee that we art in fact kin, though in distant measure," Helluin said. Beside her the boy was listening to her very closely. "My youngest granddaughter, Almiel, wed Numandil, grandson of Valandil, first Lord of Andunië, in 778."

"My Lady, Lord Numandil became third Lord of Andunië in 1031."

Now it was Helluin's turn to stop and consider another's words. "I saw Lord Numandil and Lady Almiel last in 992, when my husband Veantur was laid to rest in his tomb. I knew not that he was his Lord's Heir."

Rívelen, already amazed by what he had heard and whom he was talking to, tried hard to recall his history. Their subject dealt with lives lived 700 years before; ancient history in his eyes.

"'Twas Lord Numandil's uncle who was Heir, but he was lost in the Enedwaith in the service of King Tar-Aldarion, during the building of Lond Daer in 1002. He was childless, having never married, and so the succession passed to Numandil's father. Lord Valandil relinquished his lordship in 1007. But Numandil's father was already aged of years, and held the lordship of Andunië only until 1031 when Numandil succeeded him."

Helluin nodded her thanks for his information. Rívelen breathed a sigh of relief that he had presented the information acceptably and smiled. He was still too awed to do aught else. The Elven woman looked astonishingly like his mother.

They walked through the camp attracting many glances and some nods of greeting, and soon came to a large tent from which the fetching scents of many dishes wafted. Helluin felt her hunger keenly. Since last eating she had taken part in the slaughter of 16,000 Yrch and run over 30 miles. It seemed to her a long time since her last dinner.

Within the tent were many trestle tables and benches, and there sat several score of the officers of the Dúnedain. Helluin noted that some wore tunics and trousers of black and green, while others wore black and blue. None were wearing their armor or bearing weapons save the daggers at their belts. They seemed to mingle without regard for their companies or rank, Helluin noted, now distinguishing silver collar emblems of one or more stars in a row above either the crossed swords of the infantry or the rearing horse of the cavalry. Her glance also revealed a number of empty seats throughout the tent.

Helluin raised a questioning eyebrow to Rívelen, and after a moment's confusion he told her, "It matters not where thou sits, my Lady, for Lord Ciryatur shalt make his tidings known to all in an announcement." He then bowed and excused himself.

Helluin took the nearest empty seat. She found that a place was already set, with utensils, a plate and cup, and a lap cloth folded beside them. Upon the table were a large number of platters bearing much varied fare, flagons of wine and pitchers of ale. 'Twas obviously a case of help thyself and so she loaded her plate with a sampling of foods.

To her right sat an officer of about 35 years in age, with two stars above the infantry emblem of crossed swords upon his collar. He glanced over at her in passing and then his head snapped back to her and he set down his fork. With a gulp he swallowed whatever he had been chewing and washed it down with a mouthful of ale ere he spoke.

"Lady_Arindil_**¹**, I am amazed to see thee hither," he exclaimed, "for I knew not that thou had sailed from Andunië. Yet more amazed am I to see thee girded thus for battle."

**¹**(**Arindil,** **_Lover of the Morning,_** **_arin_**(morning) + **_-ndil_(**agent in names, 'lover of') Quenya)

At first Helluin didn't even realize that he was speaking to her, but thought rather that he was addressing someone past her down the table. She only turned to him when he repeated more quietly and with concern, "My Lady Arindil? Doth thou not recall me? I am _Chwesdrýn_**¹**. Art thou not well?"

**¹**(**Chwesdrýn,_ Breeze Chaser, chwest_** (breeze)**_ + rýn_** (chaser) Sindarin)

Helluin met his eyes while still holding the thighbone of a roasted fowl from which she had just stripped the meat with her teeth. She peered at him as she chewed, setting aside the bone on her plate, and watching as he became yet more disturbed by what he saw. She could imagine; _like unto one he knows, yet not like, and now he is confused, wondering if his lady is not by some arcane art transformed._ Ere she replied she removed from her mouth and set aside a lump of gristle. Finally she managed to swallow without choking. The officer's eyes were already surprisingly large for his face.

"Sir, I regret to inform thee that thy Lady Arindil is not present," Helluin said. "Indeed I know naught of thy lady, nor any lady of that name, I can assure thee."

She noted renewed and closer scrutiny from the soldiers surrounding them as her words drew the attention of many previously preoccupied with their feeding. From across the table someone choked on their beverage.

"But…my Lady, thy own son brought thee hither to table…" he stammered in disbelief.

"I can assure thee that I hath no son, sir, only a daughter and she long dead. If thou doth refer to Rívelen, then I attest to thee that our kinship is nowhere near so close."

Helluin noted that a strange silence had spread all about them, outwards to the adjacent tables like ripples from a stone cast into still waters. For a distance of perhaps fifteen feet around, none spoke. After some moments, Helluin became aware of a stifled chuckling from the next table. She cut her eyes from the man next to her, who was now shocked to silence, and noted an older officer with mirthful eyes, watching them closely. She cocked her head at him in question and was answered with a smile. Chwesdrýn looked thither in confusion and then lurched back into speech, taking up again his protest, though this time standing to address the senior officer.

"My LordNentírindo …thy wife…she is not herself."

"Say rather that I am not _her-self_ and I shalt agree," Helluin said, ere she took up her mug and drank. The wine was quite good, she judged, while draining her cup and pouring another. Around her the silence continued.

Helluin returned to her fare, stripping off the meat from a roasted rib and savoring the flavor. She drank down her cup of wine and poured another. Several mouthfuls of sautéed vegetables followed. More wine. More meat. A hunk of bread. More wine. Some cheese. More silence. Therefore more wine. More officers staring at her as she ate. She saw them out of the corners of her eyes. Finally she slammed down her fork in irritation and stared around her at their faces. Ever had Helluin disliked being stared at while she ate. Only the older officer at the next table, very nearly collapsed in his place with hand over face and sides heaving in hysterics, was not gawking in her direction. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and sighed.

"I hope that ere this campaign ends thou shalt all hath fully analyzed my eating habits to the point of boredom," she stated, "else I shalt be forced to take my meals in my tent. Look," Helluin said, holding up her plate, "I hath finished my vegetables and all else I apportioned myself, wasting naught and favoring none. Is there now dessert, pray tell?" She looked to those around her for an answer. After yet more silence she drained her remaining wine and stood to leave. "I suppose not," she muttered.

At that same moment, Ciryatur rose from his seat across the tent to begin his announcements. The circle of silence that had grown around Helluin was absorbed in the hush that expanded from the Lord Admiral's figure. He swept his demanding glance around the space like a scythe, stilling those in motion, hushing those whispering, and commanding those standing hastily to the nearest seat. Despite her aggravation with her tablemates' manners, Helluin resumed her seat next to the infantry officer and poured herself another cup of wine. When all attended him, Ciryatur began to speak.

"My fellow officers, we art upon the verge of battle, and upon the morrow shalt open our campaign on behalf of the High King of the Eldar. It hast been reported that to the north art 33,000 foemen, Yrch and Easterling warriors under the dominion of Sauron Gorthaur, seeking to take Lindon. Yet ere they conquer, they shalt first confront us."

Helluin noted that Ciryatur projected immense confidence and strength of will. He spoke in a voice deep and full, serious and commanding, but without condescension. So far his message was partly informational and partly morale boosting. She suspected that soon enough he would come to outline the generalities of the campaign.

"This land of Eriador hast for five years been embattled, and just this morn was a great victory achieved. Indeed, even as the Elven Host withdrew south to meet us, actions by our allies deprived the Enemy of his northern expeditionary force and a third of his troop strength," Ciryatur said, delivering this very favorable news with a great smile. All around the tent, officers whispered in response and the gathering radiated with optimism. After allowing the Men their moments of rejoicing, the Admiral continued. "Many of thee know that the Eldar art not without their kindreds and divisions. The High King comes of the Noldorin Eldar of Aman. Cirdan the Shipwright, whose aid was given to our forefathers, is of the Sindarin kindred," Ciryatur paused a moment for effect, then continued. "Today's great victory was won by the Laiquendi, the descendants of the Green Elves of Eastern Beleriand. Unlike those we know, they make war with stealth and shoot their enemies from concealment, yet like all other free peoples, they oppose the Enemy and do their part. Now, just two moons since the plight of the Hither Lands was finally made known to us, it is time for the Men of Westernesse to do their part…"

A round of cheers and applause momentarily drowned out Ciryatur's rhetoric and he graciously allowed it to continue, smiling at his officers and nodding in agreement. All Helluin could think was, _they hath heard tidings of this war but two moons past? How could such be possible? Did not Gil-galad send word well 'nigh five years ago?_ But she recalled the delay in sending warnings of Annatar to Ost-On-Edhil, and now she was not without doubt about her king. Ciryatur held up a hand and the tent quieted.

"At dawn on the morrow we shalt break camp, and thence we shalt march north to drive Sauron's Host back across the River Lune. Cavalry shalt lead the charge with infantry behind. Show them no mercy. We art to drive them thither and quickly. The Elven Host is crossing in secret to the south, for their task shalt be to assure that none of the enemy move into Harlindon nor tarry upon the eastern bank, but rather art forced to retreat into Eriador. We shalt join forces with them to drive Sauron's Host east, to Baranduin, and then beyond."

Here another great cheer went up from the officers. The combination of food and drink, the tidings of victory, and the overview of the battle plan had brought the company to a boisterous optimism. Helluin thought it a good plan, decisively taking advantage of their superior numbers and countering the contingency of a prolonged campaign for clearing the southern coastal lands. But more than appreciating the plan, Helluin was filled with questions. The admiral began speaking again and she shifted her attention back to him.

"By the High King's grace we shalt be accompanied into battle by Helluin Maeg-mormenel, the architect of the northern victory, who is the Avenger of Avernien of whom stories hath long been told. In days of yore was she a protector and ally of our people, and a foremother of kings." All about the tent a background of whispering arose, but Ciryatur raised a hand for silence and they quieted quickly. "Helluin, who hath been long at war in this land, hast joined us to represent the Noldor. I hold our strength the greater for her aid and look forward to showing forth our prowess before the eyes of the Eldar." He gestured across the tent for Helluin to stand.

Helluin stood for a moment and gave the admiral a bow for his laudatory introduction. She noted the older officer at the next table who had been so mirthful smiling at her ere he winked. _That would be Lord Nentírindo, _Helluin recalled, _Rívelen's father. No doubt his wife, Lady_ _Arindil waits at home, remarkably like unto myself in appearance…huh. _Beside herChwesdrýn, the younger officer, was blushing scarlet in embarrassment. She stifled an outburst of laughter, glanced around the tent and then sat back down. Shortly thereafter the meal finished, surprisingly, with a short thanksgiving to Eru, spoken by Ciryatur as the rest of the Men bowed their heads in silence.

Afterwards, Helluin approached the admiral and he beckoned her to sit near him, and he poured cups of wine for them and asked her if all was well.

"Indeed so, Lord Admiral," Helluin said, "thy board is very bountiful, much as I recall the table set aboard _Rámaen_ by thy noble grandsire." Ciryatur smiled warmly at this. "I am troubled by a point which, being long afield, hast escaped me." She looked at the admiral and noted a tilt of his head bidding her to continue. "I had thought the High King Gil-galad had sent forth a ship to request thy aid in the spring of 1695. How was it that the tidings of war came to thee but two moons ago? Was our ship so long delayed somehow? Was no word indeed sent? Long hath we in this land hoped for thy coming, and indeed at our hope's end hath thou hath finally come at last."

The admiral sighed heavily as though much pain came upon him, but he looked fully into Helluin's eyes, withholding nothing, and he answered her with honesty and regret.

"Indeed it may well be so, that such word was sent early in 1695. None in Númenor know of such a ship, nor was any word heard from Gil-galad since. Perhaps that ship and those who sailed upon it met some doom untimely upon the water. We know not. As thou may not know, Queen Tar-Telperien laid down her rule and her life in a single year, and that was 1691. Thereafter, Tar-Minastir took up the scepter and the rule of Númenor. He is a great supporter of thy people as was his aunt, the queen. From the first days of his reign did he continue the preparations and arming of our people, for he recalled thy embassy and harkened to thy words. And this even amidst the upheaval of succession."

Helluin bowed her head in respect for the late queen, whom she had come to deeply admire. Still such was to be expected eventually and accounted not for the delay.

"In late 1695 did fire rage amidst the harbor of Romenna such as hast never been aforetime, and many vessels were destroyed or damaged and few remained seaworthy. To reconstruction afterwards was our attention given. It took years to rebuild the ships for our deployment, even working the shipyards at full capacity and in great haste. Thus none came hither to Lindon in those years, for those that came to the Hither Shores at all sailed in haste to Umbar in the south, or to Enedwaith for timbers, and those lands hath been spared the war," Ciryatur said. He shook his head sadly and continued.

"Ships of the Eldar coming to us from the east hath always been rare, indeed far fewer in numbers than those out of Tol Eressea. We thought nothing amiss in that none came in those years. 'Twas only a short time ago, when our navy was nearly rebuilt, that a ship coming nigh Belfalas met upon the sea with some of King Lenwe's people. These were fleeing west, leaving the Hither Shores where, they said, war was renewed. We were shocked! The crew of our ship made full sails for Romenna and word came thence to Armenelos. Tar-Minastir was wroth! Long he berated himself for sending not to Lindon a regular embassy in those years, despite the shortage of ships. Still he mustered our forces immediately, and ere six weeks had passed from hearing the words of the Nandor, we set sail hither, making the passage in but eight days. On the third day out I split the armada, commanding half to Lond Dear on a gamble. In light of thy tidings 'twas a good wager it seems. Three hundred and four ships of the King's Navy sailed, though fewer horses and more Men were decided upon for the best use of our reduced capacity. In our need, even did we engage o'er 40 privateers of the Guild as transports. Only can I say that circumstances hath contrived to increase the jeopardy and suffering of thy folk and keep us from thy aid. Ever were we resolved to come."

Helluin could naught but shake her head and nod in appreciation for the efforts the Dúnedain had gone to for the sake of their alliance. She could imagine Tar-Minastir's anguish as he received the tidings of Belfalas. For over three generations his people had prepared, yet when the day had come, they were delayed five years.

"'Tis an ill timed litany of mischance that hath plagued us, Lord Ciryatur," Helluin said, "but what is important is that thou hath come, and that thou hath come in time. Now, rather than Lindon being o'errun in days, we stand able to defeat and drive out this enemy. I am thankful for thy presence and the aid of thy nation. Convey, if possible, my heartfelt thanks to thy king. Minastir is a good Man and I hath no doubts of his earnest honor of our friendship. I am proud to fight beside thy Men; indeed it hast been nigh two thousand years since I hath last marched to war with the Edain."

In Ciryatur's eyes a gleam of pride and amazement shone. "Since the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, when thou fought beside the brethren Hurin Thalion and Huor of Dor-lomin," he whispered. And that had been o'er 175 years before the founding of Númenor. "I cannot tell thee the honor done by thy presence fighting beside us. 'Tis a thing of legend and a tale for our history in days to come."

They parted that night with much honor, and in the morning they marched to war.

**To Be Continued**

12


	40. In An Age Before Chapter 40

**In An Age Before – Part 40**

_Fanged Geranium, thanks for your review...I agree, Tom Bombadil seemed bizarre to me, and like clowns, suspect of a hidden darkness few openly perceive. Also, JRRT ascribes to him a loosly defined realm of influence over the physical world, and apparently time does not touch him. He himself is an enigma, but he is certainly immortal,and more powerful than an Elf. Since he only participated in one incident in the Lord of the Rings, there was plenty of latitude to play with his character. I have taken the liberty of extrapolating his nature, perhpas projecting my own warpage onto this seemingly benign character. I'm sure he has fans all his own and my treatment of him here is akin to besmirching Mother Teresa. My profoundest apologies, (teehee)._**

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**Chapter Twenty-eight**

_**The Defeat of Sauron in Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

The armies clashed at noon, twenty miles north of Mithlond and only six miles from the encampment of the allied host. Helluin noted great companies of bowmen amongst the infantry of the Dúnedain. These warriors wore mail shirts and bore longbows of five feet in height firing arrows of 30 inches in length with barbed heads of steel. As the battle opened they stood forwardmost in the deployment, in a loose wall formation six deep and nearly two miles wide, a company of nearly 18,000 Men. The archers began shooting while the enemy was still o'er a furlong away, firing their arrows up in great arcs to rain down upon their foes like an endless sleet of bitter fangs. As their foes charged closer the bowmen lowered their trajectory until they were shooting past their fellows in the rows ahead, with each rank dropping onto one knees after letting fly their arrows. The company displayed fine coordination between its ranks, obviously the result of long drilling, and their practice showed in the rapidity and consistency of their volleys. Though their kill ratio was lower than the Laiquendi, their numbers caused devastating results. In the short span ere the lines clashed, well 'nigh an eighth part of Sauron's Host fell. O'er 4,000 Yrch and Easterlings lay dead or wounded, yet still the enemy continued to advance, for the fear of their master was great upon them.

Now when the foe drew near, the bowmen closed their ranks in companies of 600, and between those companies aisles opened separating every hundred files of archers. Then through these aisles the cavalry galloped forward in shining lines, 12,000 strong, with bright plate and mail and helm. Each bore a demi-shield affixed to their left bracer, leaving their left hands free, and at first, each bore a lance eight feet in length. The bowmen ceased firing as the horsemen passed between them, their blue banners marking their passage onto the field where they slammed into the charging Yrch and Easterlings, running down many 'neath the thundering hooves of their warhorses and planting their lances in the bodies of their foes. Thereafter they hewed their enemies from horseback with bastard swords, wielding them sometimes with two hands and sometimes with one, in mighty sweeping strokes and vicious downward thrusts.

Then the regular infantry, numbering 20,000 Men, passed through the archers and followed the cavalry to the battle bearing longswords and shields. Smoothly their columns spread out and formed ranks as they advanced, backing the horsemen's charge, and forcing the battle line to be drawn some thirty yards ahead of the bowmen.

Helluin had joined the infantry and the frenzy of battle came upon her as her company engaged the Easterlings they had matched themselves against. In her right hand Anguirel rejoiced in the bloodshed, hewing flesh and armor with equal ease as she strode forward, a feral glint in her flashing blue eyes. The Men beside her watched in amazement as she fought with a ferocity and grace they knew no mortal could match. She slew any who approached her, and in the press of bodies those foemen closest had little chance of escape. With the Sarchram she laid low champions amongst the Easterlings who stood beyond the reach of her arm. Ever she advanced, sneering, taunting her enemies, and laughing as they fell. She hardly noticed that she outpaced the line of her allies, for her blood was heated with the press of combat and her wrath was unleashed as in the battles of old. Soon Helluin was screaming _"Beltho Huiniath"_, and leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. To her sides, the Dúnedain struggled to keep up, astonished by her tireless violence and inspired by her prowess, and they took up her battle cry with a great voice.

Now o'er the string of her slain one of the Dúnedain indeed rashly followed, hacking with limited success at those enemies to the sides, yet oft times stumbling o'er a hewn corpse or even his own boots. This was the very same infantryman who had mistaken Helluin for the Lady Arindil at the Captain-Admiral's board the very night before. Chwesdrýn had vowed to make up for his gaff by guarding the dark Noldo's back in the coming battle, and so he followed her as closely as avoidance of her blade would allow. More than once Helluin slipped Anguirel into the guts of some Easterling behind her ere he could skewer the Man, for while Chwesdrýn was great of heart, as a swordsman he was well 'nigh inept. She saved his life thus many times in spite of herself and indeed without conscious thought, for in her wisdom, an enemy dead behind her rather than before was still dead. This continued for some time until the other Dúnedain caught up and their ranks swallowed him and he was separated from Helluin. Perhaps only thus did he survive vicious the opening moments of the battle to tell the tale long afterwards to any ear that would listen.

Now the companies of cavalry and infantry were fully engaged. Men, Yrch, and horses screamed in fright and pain, or bellowed threats and yelled in anger. But within the mass of the battle a bulge in the Númenórean line pressed forward, and those warriors were screaming, _"Kill 'Em All"_ right along with Helluin They pushed ahead step by step and they forced Sauron's Host back.

Behind them the archers had set aside their bows and quivers, and now they reinforced the lines of the infantry, pressing forward and wielding short swords and either long daggers or bucklers. They came to the battle line quickly and slew any foe they could find, adding their momentum to the press. Then o'er the din of the battle silver trumpets blew a fanfare, and at that signal the ranks of archers split, marching double-time to the flanks in a strategy that capitalized on the allies' numerical superiority.

The bowmen moved to enclose the battle and hem in their enemy's flanks. They pressed upon their foes from the sides and the front, and soon retreat was the only option left to Sauron's forces. And retreat they did, yard by yard, back to the north and towards the river, back to their flotilla of barges and rafts, and back toward an escape across the Lune. With every stride the Men of Westernesse hewed at them, whittling down their soldiery and trampling the bodies of the fallen beneath their lines as they advanced.

Through the afternoon and into the evening the battle raged. The Host of Sauron seemed great beyond count, but the Host of the Dúnedain was even more numerous. When the evening's light fell to a deepening gloaming, Yrch and Easterling fought amongst themselves upon the shores of the Lune to be the first aboard their rafts and the first to escape the scene of their blood loss and their terror and their defeat. Then upon the western shore, the Dúnedain raised a great cry of triumph that carried across the water to haunt their worsted enemies as they paddled to the far bank. Only then, when the land west of the Lune was clear of foes, did Helluin's battle fire abate and the flaring blue light of her eyes diminish, and she gave then attention to the cleaning of her weapons.

Now as she wiped clean her blades, Anguirel spoke, saying, "Long it hast been since last I enjoyed the fruits of thy wrath, O Helluin, and greatly do I thank thee for sharing with me thy anointment of blood."

And the Sarchram too praised her saying, "Great is thy prowess, O Helluin, and honored am I to spill the blood of the enemy again in thy company."

But around her the Men of Westernesse stood in awe, for not in many generations had their kindred seen the wrath of the Calaquendi at war. Some, knowing no better, thought that the prowess they had witnessed was common to all the Noldor, and then some amongst them gave thought to the tales of the great battles of their forefathers and the wars in Beleriand ere the Valar had delivered their people from the trials of Hither Shores. All the stronger did they reverence the heroic Edain in the First Age, Haleth and Bregor, Barahir and Beren, Hurin and Huor, Turin and Tuor, and Earendil the Mariner.

At dawn the next morning the Elven Host of Gil-galad made known its presence in the distance, ten miles off the enemy's right flank to the south as they marched from Harlindon. A fanfare they blew on their trumpets, recalling that of Fingolfin at the coming of his host to Mithrim with the first rising of the sun. Many were the flares of light glinting from their armor, and their banners were unfurled by a breeze from the sea. Then, seeing the advance of this fresh host and being still unready to offer battle following their defeat the day before, Sauron's Host continued its retreat from the shores of the Lune.

During the second day after their defeat, the Host of Sauron continued to withdraw away from the Elven Host, marching further to the east, and they retreated beyond the highlands that would one day be called the Tower Hills. Then there High King ceased his pursuit for a time and his forces made a camp, and there he awaited the Númenóreans.

On the day following the battle, while the wounded Dúnedain were tended and the dead gathered, the Lune was speckled with the myriad craft of Sindarin mariners out of Mithlond. These were freshly come from the ferrying of Gil-galad's host across the water to Harlindon. Now the people of Cirdan brought transport for the Númenórean army and through the night conveyed them across the river to the eastern shore. The Men of Westernesse marched the next day to meet with the Elven Host that had encamped twenty miles inland, and there they added their numbers and pitched their tents. Then they took a rest from fighting and marching for another week while supplies were moved forward to the encampment, weapons and armor repaired, and horses rested.

The siege of the Lune was broken, the enemy driven back, and Lindon had a respite. Half a week before it had been expected to fall. It was the turning of the tide and the harbinger of the scourging of Eriador, for with the coming of the Dúnedain, it was only a matter of time until the land was freed. For the first time in years the Noldor and Sindar felt that peace would be restored and victory lay within their grasp. In but half a week everything had changed.

When at last they marched forth again, the allies found that Sauron's Host had continued their retreat to the River Baranduin. The Elves and Men came after them, seeking battle. After losing a number of small probing skirmishes, Gorthaur finally withdrew his forces beyond the Baranduin, ceding western Eriador. Following them thither, it took o'er three weeks to move the entire combined host up to the river's western bank. Gil-galad and Ciryatur then debated how best to assail their foes, for the bridge at Sarn Athrad had been broken in Gil-galad's retreat aforetime. Any attack would force them to ford the river and win a bank held and entrenched against them, leaving them vulnerable during the transit, and then obligated to attack a position of strength from one much weaker. In between the two hosts lay barely four score yards of water, and this neither deep nor overly swift, yet it might as well hath been a mile of ocean. 'Twas then 22 Gwirith, (April 22nd).

"My archers can drive them back from the eastern shore, giving the infantry perhaps 50 yards grace upon the thither banks for their attack," Ciryatur told the council of war that had assembled in Gil-galad's tent.

"Yet when thy troops come thither, then must thy bowmen cease their firing," Glorfindel said, "and then shalt those few upon the banks be swept away by the charge of their enemies."

"And what of the Yrch archers?" Gil-galad asked. "Many crossbows do they wield, and though poor in skill, still their numbers may serve to repel our forces."

"Then we shalt send the archers with the infantry advance, and they shalt fire while themselves crossing Baranduin," Ciryatur proposed.

"Then they shalt be firing up from the water to the land beyond the bank, and their targets shalt, by a slight withdrawal backwards, come out of their sights, yet still await them nearby," Glorfindel replied. "The bank is not high, but neither is it flat."

"Then we shalt send some forward and reserve some upon the hither shore," Ciryatur said, "and in this way drive back the Yrch Host and keep them back once the infantry makes the far bank. When those upon the western side must cease firing, those upon the eastern side shalt commence, and if the cavalry comes quickly across in their wake, then perhaps any enemies charging forward shalt be caught amidst arrows and horsemen."

"Yet though our host outnumbers theirs, still we must attack with overwhelming force to take and hold the thither shore and then drive them back," Glorfindel said. "In a direct frontal assault the battle line shalt be very wide, and many must come ashore simultaneously for the landing to succeed. Perhaps we should assail their left flank only with our whole strength, pitting our numbers against but a part of theirs. We should then compose a host they shalt be unable to withstand, the easier to secure a foothold ashore amongst them. Then, using that front as a base, we can move both upstream and inland in a sweeping movement and force them east."

Around the table, heads nodded in agreement. They could visualize the action. 60,000 would fall upon the 15,000 or less upon the downstream flank of Sauron's Host, driving into it with arrows, swords, and cavalry. And once their forces had crossed Baranduin, it would be a contest of numbers and grit. The Easterlings and Yrch would be sure to give way. They could chase them all the way to the Glanduin.

"We shalt marshal our forces by the river along our entire front," Ciryatur said, "but concentrate the bowmen to the south and the cavalry to the north with the infantry between. As soon as they step into the river they shalt advance downstream against the enemy's left flank. Into that position shalt our arrows pour and a landing space shalt be cleared. Some bowmen shalt advance with the infantry and the horsemen shalt charge south as well. All shalt reach the thither shore together, and under cover of those of our archers then upon the thither bank, take and hold the front and fight their way inland and upstream. Our remaining archers can still assail those of the enemy upstream beyond our troops, driving them yet further north ere our host follows to attack."

They continued to refine the plan, judging their strength and the speed with which they could cross Baranduin. They made contingency plans in case the enemy troops attempted compensating movements. They timed their own troop movements and then decided on trumpet signals for them. They sent forth scouts to survey the banks and the position of their enemies. And finally they informed their officers of the plan, and the officers their sergeants, and the sergeants their troops. In the hours of darkness they moved the bowmen south to the place they'd chosen, while cavalrymen, Dúnedain and Eldar, quietly shifted their mounts north. An added benefit of the plan was that the infantry remained in their camp, their campfires seen and ignored by the enemy, while the movements of the others went unmarked in the darkness.

A single trumpet note greeted the dawn. In the growing light, 18,000 bowmen prepared for war upon the western bank. Upon the eastern bank the Yrch and Easterlings scrambled to their battle lines and readied themselves for the onslaught. Word had come to their commanders that the Lord Sauron would accept no further defeats. They could either die in battle against the Eldar and the Dúnedain, or they could die at his own hands. For most, a death in battle was preferable, for it would be quicker and come with less pain. In under half an hour their companies were formed up and stood awaiting their foes with the light of Anor brightening behind them.

At the report that the enemy had formed up, the trumpets blew two blasts and now the archers of Númenor took their places upon the western bank. Across the water they could see the black host of Sauron, and it seemed to many that a shadow stood over their enemies and confused their sight. Then the Yrch gave a great cry of challenge and the Easterlings yelled in their unintelligible tongue some oath or curse, the Númenóreans knew not which. Instead, of answering, they drew arrows from their quivers and set them to their bowstrings.

All along the banks to their north, 26,000 infantry and 18,000 cavalry, all the host of the Eldar and the Dúnedain, stood forth upon the shore, gazing in a menacing silence towards the eyes of their foes. Across from the hooting and stamping Host of Sauron they stood motionless. Their enemies brandished their weapons, shouted threats and insults, but the allies of the west seemed to flash and sparkle with the rays of bright Anor reflecting off their shining armor.

The trumpets of the west blew three notes, and ere their ringing call had passed away it was drowned in the twanging of bowstrings in their thousands, the hissing flight of arrows, and the screams of the dying on the thither bank. The shower of arrows from the Númenórean bows ceased not, but continued on and on, the air filled with the falling hail of deadly shafts. Volley after volley the Dúnedain sent against their enemy and they marked the fall of bodies across the water and the recoiling of the lines of troops. They gave back a few strides and then a few more. The arrows shifted back with them as the bowmen adjusted their aim, driving their foes from the bank. Space opened along the water where none but the fallen lay, stilled or crawling aimlessly and crying out in pain. Back the arrowfall drove them, 10 yards and then 20, then 30, and then 40. None upon their flank dared advance to take their place. Instead they too shied back, knowing themselves to also be within range of the deadly longbows of Westernesse.

50 yards from the shore stood now the closest foes. The trumpets played a fanfare of four notes that rent the air. And now the infantry plunged down the western banks and into the Baranduin, the water reaching mid-thigh as they swiftly strode, weapons drawn in a flashing of light. Further north, a great cry went up and the cavalry leapt into the river, horses neighing and then surging forward in a churning mass. The enemies across the river taunted them, challenged and reviled them, but the allies heeded them not. Instead they moved across the river, but always equally to the south.

Now half the bowmen moved into the churning flow as well, yet these aimed their arrows north, into the enemies who stood upstream, unassailed aforetime, and now these too backpedaled, seeking safety in distance through retreat. The other half of the archers continued to hold the opposing flank at bay as their footmen and cavalry drew across the Baranduin and converged on the cleared bank.

Just a short time later the first of them clambered ashore and immediately advanced inland. They were followed by an unending stream of horsemen and infantry, in wave upon wave, who could hardly wait to engage their bright steel against their enemies. In the van of the press of footmen came Helluin, and by now those who surrounded her were screaming her battle cry, "_Kill 'Em All!"_ Time and again the Sarchram flew, careening amongst the Yrch and returning again to her hand. Then the fighting closed in and she wielded Anguirel without mercy, smiting any of the Host of Sauron she could lay steel too. And the black blade rejoiced in the bloodshed.

"More, more," its cold voice rang o'er the din of battle; the blade's bloodlust raged unchecked in its every word and stroke, "Yea, more blood shalt I drink; for this was't I created and ever doth I thirst for more."

And Helluin granted the sword's request a hundred times in the opening hour alone. In the Battle of Baranduin her wrath peaked, o'ertopping even her slaughter upon the banks of the Lune. Indeed not since the Nirnaeth Arnoediad had she entered such a pure state of mayhem.

It took well nigh a half hour ere all the Host of the Allies stood upon the eastern bank of the Baranduin. By then the front of battle had passed a furlong to the east. The Dúnedain and the Eldar drove their foes before them without pause. Though some fell to the blades and arrows of the enemy, still they came on, unstoppable as a tide rushing upon the shores of Belegaer. Even as they moved inland the Númenórean archers continued firing o'er their heads into the ranks of the enemy beyond the battle lines. For the Yrch and Easterlings there was no respite. No place in their line was spared the threat of assault, but all shied away from Helluin who strode against them on foot. They couldn't flee her presence fast enough.

By the second hour of the battle none of the enemy would face her, instead recoiling away from the terror of the blue fire in her eyes and the light that surrounded her. Not since she had manifested the Light of the Blessed Realm upon Tórferedir at their first meeting had she become so incandescent. Friend and foe alike could not abide the glare she projected. If the Men of Westernesse had been impressed in the Battle of the Lune, now they stood in awe of her rampage. For a while it appeared, even to their mortal eyes, as if a whirling figure of brilliance clove through their foes, leaving in its wake the dead and the dying, and those who had been driven hence into the Void. Ere long the terror of her caused the enemy to flee before her in abject panic, and thus the rout began.

**To Be Continued**


	41. In An Age Before Chapter 41

**In An Age Before – Part 41

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**

Two others amongst the allies shone with unnatural brilliance for those eyes that could see. Upon horseback to Helluin's north, where the cavalry had ridden to secure the road from Sarn Athrad, a figure of light charged against the mounted companies of the Easterlings who had gathered there. The very Light of Aman outshone the reflections of Anor upon his polished armor, while the twinkling reflections on his swift sword came as a flicker-flash of deadly lightning. From beyond the grave and the Halls of Mandos had Glorfindel come, Valarauko's Bane, alive and riding to war again in this latter day, and bringing the wrath of the Eldar of old upon the minions of Morgoth's Lieutenant. Now, with naught but Men and Yrch to oppose him, he was't unstoppable.

In the First Age few had eclipsed the hatred reserved for Sauron Gorthaur by the Noldor of Beleriand, and of those who had approached him, no other survived. Now Glorfindel sought the Master of the Black Tower, for the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin had come back to Middle Earth with this intention, to lay low the last of Morgoth's servants who could still jeopardize the peace of the Mortal Shores.

With him rode Ereinion son of Fingon, Gil-galad, 3rd High King of the Exiled Noldor, blazing with the reflections from his mirror polished armor o'erlain with silver. Upon his shield bright gems twinkled, and upon the point of his spear did flashes of sunlight flare. With bitter thrusts he slew his enemies, driving the point of _Aeglos_**¹** deep to spill their black blood. About him a great press of the Noldor rode, and to his banner, silver star on blue, did they rally. Yet no light of Aman brightened his figure, for he had been born in Beleriand and had never left the Hither Shores.

**¹**(**Aeglos, _Snow Point,_** Gil-galad's spear. Sindarin)

It was for the death of his father that Gil-galad sought redress, for in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad it had been Sauron who had prosecuted his master's western flank against the 2nd High King of the Noldor. Even though it had Gothmog who had dealt Fingon's death stroke, Sauron had done his master's bidding in provoking untimely the charge of the Elven Host and ruining the battle plan of the Eldar. Now no Balrog marched in Sauron's Host, and on this day no Man or Orch could withstand the king's wrath or hold at bay his desire for vengeance.

From his place far to the rear of the battle, Sauron marked the failure of his soldiery and he was filled with wrath. Though he had bent the power of his ring against the allies and assayed to give strength to his own, still his host had been worsted. The terror that his presence instilled in others was o'erwhelmed by the hatred and battlelust of his foes. With his sight did he mark that many amongst the Eldar's eyes shone with the Light of Aman, for these were the remnant of the Noldor that had come in Exile to Mortal Lands in the dawntime of the sun, and they had seen the Trees. They were bitter enemies, beyond his mortal soldiers' ability to withstand, and he hated them now as he always had.

But his eyes also marked the presence of the three who were deadliest to his cause. Gil-galad the High King, son of Fingon whom he had faced aforetime, was the least of them, Noldor by birth, but not a true Calaquende. Many upon the field rallied to him and he held their allegiance. But Sauron swore that on some day in a year yet to come, he would fell this lesser king of greater forefathers. Next was Glorfindel, resurrected from the dead, whom he would not choose to assail, for no figure who blazed with such inner light could he any longer withstand, not since passing so much of his personal power into his Ring. And last there was Helluin, blazing just as brightly as Glorfindel, though she had never died! It should not hath been possible. Worse, within her light he beheld a darkness that he had never seen in any of the Eldar, a power that inspired those around her to ever greater acts of violence. In this her nature was't akin to his own and at that he marveled the more. But yet more disturbing still was the blue fire flaring from her eyes. From whence had such a _ril_ of sapphire in a Child of Iluvatar come?

From the depths of his memory Sauron dredged up an image that still made him shiver. In the earliest days of his cleaving to his dark master's will he had remained amongst the Maiar of Aule, and upon the Isle of Almaren he had seen such aforetime. Of all those he had ever known since the singing of the Ainur's Song, only the Elder King had such eyes**¹**. They had once glanced upon him with disappointment and pity, and he had shrunken 'neath the weight of them and fled.

**¹**("Manwë has no thought for his own honor, and is not jealous of his power, but rules all to peace…His raiment is blue, and blue is the fire of his eyes…" The Sil, Ch. I, OTBOD, pg. 35.)

Even as he thought it and his gaze was focused yet upon Helluin, marking her slaughter of his soldiery at a tireless rate of about 100 an hour, she sought him across all the miles that lay between them. Maybe she felt his thought upon her; maybe having repelled him during his attack in 1600 she had somehow become aware of his malevolence ever after. He was astonished. And from that great distance of no less than a dozen miles, with the sight of a fallen but deathless spirit, he clearly saw the sneer of contempt she cast his way. And then she returned to the battle, hewing her enemies with the same glee and abandon that he himself would hath shown if only he dared.

The Battle of Baranduin continued through the day and the Host of Sauron was driven ten miles east in disarray. Many companies of Yrch fled outright, while others fought their way back in a more orderly retreat. Some companies of the Easterlings were grim and gave way only after vicious combat, and these earned a grudging respect from the Eldar and the Dúnedain for they laid down their lives like any soldiers fighting for their lord. But all gave ground before the Host of the Allies. In the night that followed, none of Gorthaur's officers commanded more than their own company, for order had broken down and chaos reigned amongst them, and so Sauron's forces failed to regroup.

The next day the fighting continued, and then the next. Ever the battle line drew further east and the losses amongst the Yrch and the Easterlings were very great. By the fourth day the cavalry of the allies was seeking Gorthaur's scattered companies, hunting them and driving them towards the Glanduin, while the infantry swept in behind to secure the land and finish off the stragglers. Few were the actual counterattacks against them and these were quickly quashed.

By the morning of the fifth day Sauron's Host was broken and it had been driven back a hundred miles from the River Baranduin. Indeed they were now two-thirds of the way to Tharbad, where the Road crossed the River Glanduin. Over the next week the rout continued until the River Glanduin was visible as a ribbon of bright water disappearing into the cover of forest to the south. It lay but a few miles behind the enemy lines. 'Twas then that Sauron's forces received reinforcements at last. The third host out of Mordor arrived upon the field, 50,000 fresh troops out of Khand. Now the enemy had a respite at last and stood a chance of reversing their losses. By order of their master they would engage the allies the next morning and drive them back to Baranduin.

Now for the first time since the Men of Westernesse had arrived in Lindon, there was real jeopardy again. The Host of Sauron outnumbered the Host of the Allies, but most of Sauron's troops were untried in battle. This lack of real experience, and the fact that they had just completed the march from Mordor, gave Gil-galad great hope for the outcome of the next few days. This time Ciryatur was less optimistic.

"The forces I ordered to Lond Daer should hath halted the advance of this army," the Ship Lord said that night after a quick check of the phase of the moon. "Never should they hath come even to Tharbad, but rather they should hath met their fate, waylaid enroute and slaughtered." A month had passed since last he had seen his troops.

Gil-galad noted Ciryatur's concern, but he believed they could overcome their enemy. Reports had come to him of the preparations of Sauron's forces. The host had arrived but set no camp, built no palisades or defensive works around their position, and had barely unpacked their kits. They were going to march to battle without pause. Most likely they would attack in the morning. Despite the fact that Ciryatur's second army hadn't appeared, the High King had faith that his troops were far superior to the soldiers from Khand. When the fighting started, the change in numbers wouldn't matter.

"I want all awake and fed ere dawn," Gil-galad announced, "all the signs speak of an attack in the morning. We must be ready. Only by taking us at unawares can they win a victory. Ours art the advantages of morale, prowess, and inspiration."

"We shalt be armed and ready," Ciryatur said, if a bit grimly, "and we shalt test their measure, for if they art to win a victory, dearly bought with their blood shalt it be."

"Then when they come hither we shalt march forth to meet them," Gil-galad declared, "and together we shalt drive them back. We shalt drive them back to Glanduin…nay, we shalt drive them back all the way to Mordor."

The sun rose red in the morning, bathing all the land with the hue of blood. Before the allied camp, the 52,000 surviving Elves and Men stood ready to do battle. Across a scorched mile of no man's land, 73,000 Yrch and Men began their advance and the ground trembled at the coming of their feet. For the first time since their defeat at the River Lune, they marched west. After a quarter-hour they could see the lines of the Dúnedain and Eldar awaiting them in silent ranks and files, infantry straight ahead, cavalry upon their right flank, the ruddy light of the rising sun reflecting like fire from their polished armor. Above the troops a forest of blue banners bearing either a silver star, or a rayed star above a white tree, fluttered in the morning breeze though it felt as if all of Arda was't holding its breath. Not a bird chirped; only the tramp of marching boots was to be heard. It was 2 Lothron, (May 2nd) S.A. 1700.

For a while longer the lines held as they converged, a quarter-mile, then a furlong; the Host of Mordor came on as the Allies stood still, waiting, silent, and ready. The distance between them diminished; now one hundred yards, now seventy-five, now fifty. Then came the single ringing note of a silver trumpet calling forth in greeting to the sun, and still no longer, the infantry of the Allies charged forward at last. As one, the tide of warriors came with the morning's light flaring blood red on their plate and mail, their polished swords drawn in a hiss from a multitude of scabbards. The Host of Sauron hastened forward to meet them, screaming challenges and cursing in many tongues, their blood heated with lust of mayhem. But now as they drew 'nigh for battle, over all the dim of the charge, from the throats of the Men of Westernesse came the cry, "Kill 'Em All!" And then the hosts slammed together.

The clash of their lines resounded across the land of central Eriador; steel met steel, bodies collided, voices were raised, and blood was spilled. The cries of the dying rose to the heavens. The lines blurred into a press of fighters, each an individual seeking survival and victory. A million glints of light shone reflected upon weapons, flashing and flickering with deadly slashes and bitter thrusts. Dust rose from the tumult of combat as 200,000 boots milled the earth, seeking purchase, striving to drive back the enemy. The very world seemed to groan aloud 'neath the weight of so much wrath.

Then over all the din there came the pounding of the hooves of 16,000 war horses. The very ground shook in their passage upon the field. The cavalry of the Eldar and the Dúnedain smashed headlong into the right flank of Sauron's Host, driving a wedge deep into their ranks with a thicket of lances and spears. Before them the bodies of their enemies were flung airborne by the impacts, or impaled upon the blades of their weapons. Hard and bitter was their ride, and deep amidst their foes did they penetrate, and there they hewed the host from within the press of its ranks.

Upon the frontlines the battle seesawed, with fighting constant across a mile of land. There Helluin, with a great company of Dúnedain about her, again forced back the Yrch and Easterlings she faced. In that place the line bulged forward, for the enemy could not withstand her. Rather they gave way, unable to match her ferocity or the wrath that she inspired amongst those Men who fought beside her.

Then, though the first hour had yet to pass, from the north came the army that Sauron had called back to battle from its siege outside Imladris. These he threw into the fray upon the rearguard of the cavalry, and soon the riders were cut off from retreat, surrounded by foes on all sides and hemmed in by the press of their attackers. The circle of enemies tightened about them and the fighting grew more desperate.

Seeing this, the enemy was greatly heartened and they fought with increased vigor. And Sauron, from his campsite set upon a bluff o'erlooking Tharbad, bent now thither all his thought and all his power, and with his Ring did he set lust for blood and fear of failure deep in the hearts of his soldiers. Thus for a time they were strengthened in will and hand and they stemmed the advance of the allies and then slowly turned them back.

Now Sauron's legions moved forward, concentrating themselves more closely to widen the distance between the battle line and the trapped cavalry. The enemies took advantage of their numerical superiority, crowding together in a dense press to force the allies west. Despite Helluin and the Dúnedain about her, the mass of fighters beyond them was driven slowly back until they too were in jeopardy of being enveloped. Then their only choice was to slowly withdraw with the rest of their forces, one grudging step at a time, while leaving in their wake a litter of bodies. For Helluin, any retreat while under the influence of the rage that burned in her blood was as bitter as it had been in the Nirnaeth, when, save for the entreaty of the brethren of Dor-lomin, she would hath continued in her rampage though she be left alone upon the field facing all the Host of Angband. Yet she was older now and less reckless even in her wrath, and though the fire burned no less hotly in her veins, she found herself moving back, her sword and ring blade warding off the blows of her enemies to protect those beside her as much as herself.

So the fighting continued to the second hour, both sides whittling down the count of their foes' hosts. But now a hundred yards lay between Helluin and the cavalry and there was naught that she could do against so many who stood between. The battle had turned against the Allies, and the thought of Sauron Gorthaur gloating o'er the outcome made his name bitter upon her tongue. She had already slain well 'nigh 150, yet on this day she could slay 1,000 and little difference would it make. She watched the banners of blue draw yet another pace further away, and in anger she hewed off the heads of three of the Rhûnwaith who stood before her. Anguirel, as ever, was pleased with the taste of their blood. But the fighting continued unto the third hour and then the fourth and ever the infantry and cavalry were driven further asunder.

Helluin blinked the sweat and sprayed blood from her eyes, and for a moment she cast her gaze to the sky. Anor stood high, 'nigh the zenith, and noon lay but a short span away. The blue banners of her friends and king were far away. O'er an hour before, the infantry had been forced back beyond the place of their encampment and that familiar ground lay littered with the bodies of the dead, both their own and the enemy's. They had been forced back o'er half a mile. Now a new mood came upon Helluin, something beyond the rage of battle that was her custom, and for the first time since she had stood amidst the Fall of Gondolin, she committed herself to meeting her death with her hands well stained in the blood of her enemies.

_If 'tis my time to come unto thy house, O Namo, then so be it,_ she thought grimly,_ but not for naught shalt I take my leave, of life, of love for these lands, and of my beloved's heart. Unto the waiting place of my fëa shalt I go hence, and therein I shalt await thee,__meldis meldwain nin, even if it be until the ending of days._ _Yet before me shalt I send a thousand times my count unto the Void._

Her resolve had changed in the blink of an eye, and in the outer world not a heartbeat had passed, but within, it was a different Helluin who lived and fought, for now she had accepted the loss of her ties to the Mortal Shores. She would fight to the last, and then come again to Aman and whatever welcome awaited her there. If she had been fell before, inspiring her fellows and terrifying her foes, now she astonished both anew. And forgetting the lines of battle or the strategy of war, she merely fought, seeing only the enemy before her and feeling only the desire to shed their blood. Indeed this was not a thing different in kind to her usual rage, but rather it differed in degree and speed. She strode forward, retreating no longer, slaying any she could reach, oblivious to anything save her rage, her sword, and her enemy.

Now the Dúnedain looked upon her onslaught, and followed behind the wake of her destruction. Never had they seen arms wielded with such blinding speed or such deadly precision. She wasted not a stroke, one motion blending into the next, and with every thrust and swing, another foe fell before her. Helluin strode amongst her mortal enemies as if walking through a field of tall weeds, hewing them down mercilessly, heedless of their attempts to take her, and erring never in the mastery of her swordplay. The trail of bodies behind her lengthened, marking her passage forward, and Men surged forward behind her. One company and then another moved into the gap, keeping clear the way and driving aside the Yrch and Easterlings upon either flank. More and more followed, forming an ever lengthening and widening wedge amidst the host of their enemies. And at its apex spearheading the counterattack, came Helluin Maeg-mormenel, eyes blazing with blue flames, a brilliance shining about her that eclipsed the noonday sun.

"To the Admiral! To the King!" cried out the soldiers who followed her, thinking that her goal was the relief of the cavalry. In the host behind, others took up their cry and surged forward with renewed vigor.

"I am coming for thee, O Gorthaur," Helluin whispered, "and ere I let go this life, I shalt repay thee for thy trespasses. I doth owe thee blood and more. Fear me if thou wilt, fight me if thou can. Flee me if thou can'st." And without a backward glance she hewed her way forward stride by stride.

Across a handful of miles, Sauron Gorthaur heard her words though all the din of battle that lay between them. He looked nervously towards the fighting, seeking to pinpoint from whence those fell words had come, for they had struck upon his spirit as a splash of bitter acid and he marked the burn of them gravely. Few upon Middle Earth could make a threat that he would take seriously, but she was one, and though he doubted truly that she could o'ercome him, he would not choose to face her willingly. Too many things might go awry in such a contest. From his vantage point he noted that she had fought her way deep into his host, recouping almost fifty yards so far, while behind her a spearhead of Men had followed, creating a dangerous division in his forces. As he watched, more and more of the Dúnedain poured into the wedge of counter attackers, widening the cleft in the battle front. This was not acceptable.

Again he bent his will upon his soldiers, and with his Ring he projected power for them to withstand the onslaught of the Dúnedain. But his power was't balanced by the inspiration the Dúnedain felt when they followed in Helluin's wake and partook of her mayhem. Every soldier of Westernesse sought to share in the mythic events she brought to pass; they sought to share in her immortality by becoming a part of the future written by her hand; they sought to write themselves a place in the legend this day would become. Without conscious thought, Helluin's example strengthened her allies' hearts to match the fell power their enemy projected.

As Sauron had foreseen, Helluin's darkness drew forth the darkness of others. Her violence incited violence in those of lesser power about her and they clove to her. He watched her closely and never had he desired to seduce one more to his will; could he only corrupt her to his side, he would gladly make such a dark spirit his regent and the Viceroy of Barad-dúr. He would make her Supreme Battle Commander of all his armies, for upon the field she had no peer. Such was't his fantasy. Helluin excited him. The useless thing between his legs throbbed and hardened at the thought of perverting her to his evil and so he resented her, for her power had affected him and even he was't subject to it. Oh how he desired and hated her. Thus distracted by the tension within himself, his concentration on his Ring faltered and his reinforcement of his soldiers faltered as well.

Now Sauron Gorthaur awaited the last of his companies and their tardiness irked him, though he knew them to be the least reliable of all his subjects. Long had he known of the growing hatred between the Men of Westernesse and the Enedwaith in the southern forests about the Glanduin. These savages, he had also learned, held a longstanding animosity towards the Eldar. 'Twas only natural that he enlist them in his war against their mutual enemies, and they had reluctantly agreed, though they had maintained that, _though thou be an enemy of our enemies, thou art not our friend._ He had merely nodded in agreement. He detested them, wanted little from them, and certainly not their friendship. They were barbarian primitives, cannibals, 'twas rumored, fit only for slavery under the lash and then death._ I am not thy friend, true,_ he had thought,_ but for a time I shalt be thy master._ So where were they now? Ciryatur was not alone in his expectations of forces that had not yet arrived.

The sun fell from the noon. Helluin had recouped o'er a hundred yards. Behind her the Dúnedain had held and widened her path, and now a cleft of equal width and length split the battle front asunder. A furlong still separated her from the cavalry. She considered it not at all. Such goal as she had lay beyond the lines of battle, past the rearguard of the enemy host, and far behind their encampment.

The battle continued in its ferocity though hours had passed since the initial clash. The mortals on both sides grew weary, indeed well 'nigh exhausted, and though their blows came neither so hard nor so swift as aforetime, terror and rage and stubborn conviction kept them fighting. The field was still undecided and neither army could withdraw ere a conclusion was reached. In her single minded frenzy Helluin knew no fatigue and her speed was all the more evident as those of mortal blood about her slowed down.

Helluin had lost track of time. The host of enemies about her had ceased to trouble her. Indeed their weapons bit not upon her armor and she slew them as one would swat a midge. By now she had lost any tally of the count of her vanquished. She cared naught for them at all. In a corner of her awareness was the sense that pointed the way towards her real enemy. She could feel him like a dark beacon calling softly to her, unerringly drawing her footsteps thither. She slew another half-dozen and kept to her course.

By mid-afternoon, Helluin was within thirty yards of the cavalry, but to the dismay of the Men in her wake, she appeared to be aiming to skirt them. She was forging ahead in a direction that would bring her past the embattled riders by several dozen yards to their south. None marked that she had been ever headed in a beeline towards a bluff beside Tharbad, three miles beyond the rear of the battle, upon which a commander's tent had been set, and above which fluttered a black pennant bearing the device of a yellow eye. The Dúnedain were also too preoccupied with the fighting to note that from a direction yet some degrees further south, a great cloud of dust was't rising in the near distance.

Throughout the afternoon, Helluin had periodically vented her rage in dire curses and threats, whispered with venomous vitriol against the master of her enemies. Again and again she had challenged and upbraided Sauron, somehow knowing that he was aware of her. It had kept him focused on the battle, and more precisely on her. Indeed, Maia though he was, he too had failed to mark the gravity of the new approach from the south, dismissing it without investigation as his long truant allies from Enedwaith. Had he realized the danger, he could hath foreseen the disaster that was about to unfold.

In the fourth hour past noon, the wedge with Helluin at its head had cloven the Host of Sauron very nearly in half. It was then that the approaching army unfurled its banners, deep blue, and bearing a rayed star above a white tree. Thus the expeditionary force Ciryatur had sent to Lond Daer came up at last to the battle. They drove against the southern fraction of the enemy, loosing first a hail of arrows and then charging afoot, and quickly it was o'errun.

The Men and Elves who had followed Helluin turned on their enemies to the north, and having seen the banners of their friends, fought with renewed vigor and drove those standing against them in a rout to the north with much slaughter. But a few of the enemy, some thousand from mixed companies, escaped the carnage.

At last the press upon the cavalry was relieved, and there came Gil-galad, and Ciryatur, and Glorfindel, and the other knights of the Allied Host, able at last to ride against their foes. To them galloped the cavalry from Lond Daer, reinforcing them and breaking the encirclement about them with a charge of lances. Many of the foe they ran down and slaughtered as they fled the field. For the next two hours the bloodbath continued and the Host of Sauron was't swept away as so many parched stalks of hay before a firestorm. By day's ending so few remained that rather than pursue them through the night, the High King and the Admiral ordered their troops to stand down and return to camp.

Now when the battle had been broken by the arrival of the host from Lond Daer, the path before Helluin had been quickly laid opened. Then she had made her way southeast in haste, Anguirel in one hand, the Sarchram in the other. Across the miles she ran, fleet as a deer, seeking to come against the Dark Lord in his tent upon the bluff 'nigh Tharbad. She covered the distance quickly, but not quite quickly enough, for Sauron Gorthaur had kept his eye upon her and knew when would come the moment of her arrival.

_Not this day, Helluin, _he thought,_ not in the hour of my host's defeat do I choose to face thee. Another time, another place perhaps…and time we both hath. But I salute thy darkness nonetheless. No Child of the One hath slain in a day more foes than thou. Yet rather woulds't I seduce thee than slay thee. Nay, we shalt not meet this day._

When Helluin arrived, Sauron was but recently fled; the dust from the hooves of his horses still hung in the air. He had left a company of guards to waylay or delay her, but these she slew in a few minutes. He had not left a single horse. With every heartbeat her enemy raced further away in the gathering gloom and she was powerless to pursue him. She could feel his receding presence as a taunt upon her spirit.

Sauron had left one further token of his passing from Eriador. Beside the entrance to his tent stood the pole standard of his Glamhoth, the shriveled and smoke blackened remains of Celebrimbor, all the worse for six years of being carried before his armies. The arrow shafts still hung from the desiccated shreds of his flesh. In anger and frustration, Helluin hewed the black pennant from the top of Gorthaur's tent, carrying off the standard to present as a trophy of victory to her king. Then she took every other item in the campsite, stacked them high, and laid the mummified body of her friend atop it as a funeral pyre. With its black smoke rising to the heavens behind her, Helluin left the bluff and made her way back to the victorious army.

**To Be Continued**

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	42. In An Age Before Chapter 42

**In An Age Before – Part 42**

_Short chapter this time...just finishing up the War of the Elves and Sauron before a new mission is laid on Helluin anad Beinvir by an old acquiantance of Helluin's. _**

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**Chapter Twenty-nine**

_**The Restoration of Peace, Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun**_

To the camp of the Allies Helluin had come, a dour figure in her black armor, bespattered with drying blood and stinking of a slaughterhouse. The Dúnedain rejoiced in her presence. Partially because of her past association with the royal house of Westernesse and partially because of her recent overwhelming mastery in battle, they accorded her more respect and esteem than even the High King. This was evident in the way the Men thronged about her in the camp, the praise of their toasts at the victory banquets, and the frank adoration in the eyes of very nearly every soldier. Such was not lost upon the High King, and he felt both unsettled and somewhat guilty in his heart for his past treatment of her.

Gil-galad had been cordial when she had come before him to present the pennant of their defeated enemy, traditionally amighty trophyof victory, but he had been at a loss for what to say to her. He had slighted her many times since the war began and yet she had unwaveringly served his cause. Of the private war that Helluin and Beinvir had waged from 1695 to 1699 he knew nothing, but he did know that Helluin had engineered the northern victory upon the Lune, led the charge to relieve his encircled cavalry, and taken the pennant of the enemy. Helluin had followed those few orders he had given her, but she had accomplished far more on her own initiative. And most tellingly, despite the fact that she had commanded none, Helluin had inspired those who fought beside her more thoroughly than any other. She had led by example, and were popular acclaim to rule, she would now command this host.

"Helluin Maeg-mormenel, great and steadfast hath thou proven thyself in battle," he had said, though that had been obvious to all and she had proven both in Beleriand long ere his birth, "and upon the field no other hast achieved more by prowess of arms. I am honored to count thee amongst the Noldor and I am honored by thy allegiance to the crown."

It had been lame and they had both known it, but Helluin had handed him Sauron's pennant then bowed and withdrawn, seemingly with little concern. Two things she had wanted most and neither of these was his praise; the first was a long hot bath and the second, her return to Beinvír in Imladris. One was beneath the king's station to grant, the other beyond it had he even known. As ever, Gil-galad simply didn't understand her.

In the end she settled for a quick scrub and a cold drenching and then joined in the festivities of the host. Many casks and kegs had been tapped and much fare provided. At least she could slake thus her thirst and hunger.

"I felt thy wrath amidst the battle, my friend," Glorfindel had said softly as they'd taken a quiet moment together over cups of wine, "and it was terrifying. And I heard thee repeatedly cursing and challenging the Dark Lord himself."

"He fled before me, Glorfindel," Helluin had said in disgust, "leaving behind 'naught but a few lackeys, his pennant, and Celebrimbor's body." Her demeanor had grown morose.

The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower looked over at her. They had won a great victory this day. Had she really been so eager for single combat with Sauron that she felt 'naught but disappointment now? Most would hath welcomed deliverance from such a confrontation. Glorfindel recalled Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, who had ridden alone to Angband and challenged Morgoth to single combat. He had died before the gates of Thangorodrim.

"Had he but left a horse, I would hath brought Gil-galad his head, not merely his heraldry," Helluin muttered into her cup, recapturing his attention.

Glorfindel half believed her. She might actually be capable of prevailing.

"Maybe 'tis just as well," he said, "for I feel his doom lies far ahead and not from the hands of the Eldar shalt come his fall."

Helluin looked him in the eyes for a moment, pondering the veracity of his prophecy. In Gondolin he had never spoken with foresight, but since then he had died, spent time in Mandos, and then returned from Aman. Who really knew what he was capably of now.

"Perhaps 'tis so," she said at last with a sigh, "he hath still his Ring and his head. He shalt visit war upon us again I deem."

To this, Glorfindel had nodded in agreement. He wondered how long she'd tarry.

The celebrations continued for a week. Great was the feasting and ubiquitous was the drunkenness. Many came to congratulate Helluin, becoming ever more effusive with the amount consumed, until after three days Helluin had finally had enough. She slipped quietly from the encampment, wrapped again in her cloak of subdued greens, stealthy as one of the Laiquendi, and none marked her passing.

_I am sure they shalt find some other cause for oratory and song besides my deeds,_ she thought as the sounds of mirth faded into the night behind her,_ for indeed so oft hath they been recounted of late that I scarce care to remember them myself._ She headed north.

In the lands west of the Mitheithel she saw evidence of the passage of those of Sauron's soldiers who had fled the Battle of the Glanduin. They had left many tracks and the remains of poor camps. They too were marching north, though to what destination, she knew not. Now despite their defeat they still comprised a force of several thousands, easily large enough to threaten battle to any but a host, and they were desperate and no longer under the command of their master. Much evil could they bring to the land while the victors ate and drank to the south. Helluin hastened forward in stealth.

After a fortnight Helluin stood again outside the slot canyon that pierced the red sandstone cliff upon the western walls of the northern Hithaeglir, and proceeding hence through it, heard again the challenge of the Guards of Imladris.

"I am Helluin Maeg-mormenel of the Host of Finwe, newly come from the war with tidings of victory," she declared, "I pray thee convey me hence to Lord Elrond."

In truth she couldn't hath cared less about seeing the _Peredhel_. 'Twas to find Beinvír that she had come. That reunion occurred rather quickly after Helluin's presence was reported in the valley.

Helluin was indeed conveyed straightaway to Elrond to present her tidings. Unlike the High King, the Lord of Imladris greeted Helluin warmly, meeting with her in his study and rising from his chair to envelope her in a hug.

"Glad am I to see thee again, Helluin," Elrond said with a wide smile, "and newly come, safe and victorious from the war. I hath sent word to Beinvír to come hither, and in the meantime, pray tell me of thy days since thou left us."

"Well, my friend, the days hath been long with toil and filled with bloodshed, but also with victory hoped but unlooked for," Helluin said.

Ere she could continue the door burst open and Beinvír leaped into the room, laughing gleefully and launching herself into Helluin's arms as she rose from her seat. The Noldo barely caught her flying form, but couldn't stop them from crashing o'er backwards. Beneath them the delicately carved chair splintered, dumping both ellith onto the floor in an undignified heap. Helluin found herself staring briefly up at Elrond's ceiling, ere her vision was eclipsed by the face of her beloved drawing closer. She closed her eyes and met the Green Elf's lips with her own. Absence and the horrors of war had made them softer and sweeter than she remembered. For timeless moments she was lost, revelingin the kiss, but eventually she came to her senses, prompted thus by the chuckling of the _Peredhel_. Elrond was reclining in his chair watching their reunion with a mirthful glance.

Helluin struggled to maintain her composure, lifting her head and meeting Elrond's gleeful eyes. She had seldom felt so chagrined.

"I doth sincerely apologize for the casualty of thy furnishings, my Lord Elrond," she managed to choke out ere Beinvír recaptured her lips.

"I suppose the loss of a chair is but a small impropriety compared to thy compromising position and thy propensity for making out upon my floor," he cackled, "art thou oft so shamelessly inclined?"

To Helluin's mortification, Beinvír turned to him and asked, "Art thou always so shamelessly inclined to watch?"

To her credit, she had said it with a straight face, only breaking into a grin when she turned back to face Helluin and suck on her lower lip, effectively constraining any apologies on her part.

Eventually they reclaimed their dignity and got to their feet, finding Celeborn leaning against the doorframe and suppressing his chuckles. Later the four sat upright in undamaged chairs, enjoying some refreshment while the remains of the first chair crackled in the hearth. Elrond had waved off all their words of apology and expressed 'naught but joy at their happiness.

Now that Celeborn had joined them they spent the remainder of the afternoon in counsel and Helluin's revelations brought them both wonder and joy and sadness. But her final detail left Elrond unsettled. Several thousands of the enemy still roamed the land, probably now nearer to Imladris than to Tharbad. Ere the four went to the Dining Hall he had ordered the watch upon the pass doubled and the valley's level of preparedness increased. That night, after the evening meal, the tale of the defeat of Sauron was recounted through the hours of darkness in the Hall of Fire.

Now it came to pass that Elrond took counsel with Celeborn and his advisors, and the next day he ordered his people to prepare themselves for battle. Helluin's tidings had inflamed his desire for action. Too long, he deemed, had they hidden deedless. Two weeks later, when the scouts beyond the pass had reported signs of approaching enemy companies, he marched forth with his warriors to meet them. Then, as later stories hath told, the last of Sauron's northern army was destroyed, caught between the forces of Elrond and Gil-galad.

After the week long celebration, during which the king had become increasingly bored and Glorfindel increasingly worried, Gil-galad had ordered the Eldar north to complete the war. The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower had reminded him that many of their enemies had escaped the battle and fled north and thither had Elrond taken refuge. And though Glorfindel mentioned it not, there too had Helluin probably gone. So it was that the two Elven armies converged upon the remnant of Sauron's army and utterly destroyed it. At last the victory was complete and for many years the lands had peace.

Now when the armies met, Glorfindel greeted Elrond, whom he had not seen since ere they parted ways in Lindon when the _Peredhel_ rode off to war, and he asked after Helluin and Beinvír, for neither of them did he see amongst the warriors of Imladris. But Elrond shook his head and admitted that he knew not whither they had gone, for though Helluin had come indeed and Beinvír had long been amongst his people, they had left upon some errand ere his folk had marched to battle. Where they might be now, he had no idea, for neither had named a destination.

**To Be Continued**

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	43. In An Age Before Chapter 43

**In An Age Before – Part 43**

_Silverme; thanks for your review, it's rare and always great to hear from a reader. Since you posted your comment, you have another 40 posted chapters to read. In the manuscripte this is actually Chapter Thirty. I have another 12 chapters written so far...up to the War of the Last Alliance...did anyone ever wonder where the Ulairi were while Barad-dur was besieged, orwhy they never appeared in battle?_**

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**Chapter Thirty**

_**Belegaer, West of Forlindon – The Second Age of the Sun**_

After the Battle of Glanduin and the breaking of Sauron's Host, but ere the army of Imladris marched to battle, Helluin and Beinvír had taken their leave of the hidden valley, and this was not done without cause. On their third night together they had been resting in the room at the hospice that the Green Elf had occupied since her arrival. It qualified as one of her longest stays under a roof anywhere. That night, as a gentle rain fell and brought the song of moving water to the woods, they beheld a vision of the Lord Ulmo. This time Helluin recognized him immediately and bowed her head in reverence.

"_Heldalúne Maica i móremenel_**¹**, of late thou hast triumphed in war, but in the Song of Endóre thy victory is but a day's skirmish and a far greater doom lie'th ahead," the Lord of the Waters declared. "Far beyond thy years upon Endóre shalt be fought _I Tella Ohtale_**²**, and for it, one thou know'st not must of needs be armed. Thou hast aforetime succored the line of Huor. Now comes the time to do thus for the line of Hurin. To his house too doth thou owe a debt."

**¹**(**Heldalúne _helda_** (naked)**_ + lúne_** (blue), Quenya trans of Sindarin_ **Helluin **_**_hel(d) _**(naked) + **_luin _**(blue) **Maica i móremenel, _Piercing the Dark Heavens maica_** (piercing) + **_i_** (art, the) + **_móre_** (dark) + **_menel_** (heavens) Quenya trans of the Sindarin **_Maeg-mórmenel_**)

**²**(**I Tella** **Ohtale** **_The Last Great War_ ****_I _**(def art, the) + **_tella_** (last) +**_ ohta _**(war) + **_-(a)le _**(general intensive) Quenya, called the **_Dagor Dagorath_** in Sindarin)

"I acknowledge it," Helluin said gravely, "what act is asked of me in repayment?"

Beside her Beinvír stared at the Vala with eyes wide in awe. She felt his presence surging in her blood, as waves rolling upon an inner shore, and the Light in his face was utterly compelling.

"Thither shalt thou go, to that most sacred mortal isle upon Belegaer; that land which was't aforetime 'nigh the Cabed Naeramarth. There shalt thou see standing a stone. There shalt thou seek the brother of thy most stalwart of allies. His sister shalt show thy way. Bring hence the brother's broken body that it may be mended ere the Song's end and returned to the hand it favors."

At this, Helluin's eyes widened in surprise. Never before even to the ears of the Wise had a Vala declared the fate beyond death of even one of the Second Born Children of Iluvatar. Then she recalled the words of her friend, Glorfindel, returned from death and the Blessed Realm before the war. _"In the First Song was all presaged, and so the world runs on to its conclusion, the struggle's final end in the Dagor Dagorath, which, mind thou, shalt be championed by a Man avenged."_

"I shalt do thy bidding, Lord Ulmo," Helluin said as she bowed her head. At his summons she again felt a great doom laid upon her.

"As thou hast aforetime," Ulmo said, "and as before, thou art the only upon Endóre whom I would ask." He paused for a moment, as if regarding her with sadness, but he said only, "Seek thou in Mithlond after Captain _Mórfang_**¹** of Númenórë."

**¹**(**Mórfang, _Black Beard_ _mór, _**(black) + **_fang_** (beard) Sindarin)

For one instant his eyes shifted to Beinvír and he smiled upon her in blessing, but as with Helluin a moment before, there was sadness in his eyes.

In the next moment the vision faded and they were released. Beinvír gasped but Helluin was already reviewing all the Vala had said. Cabed Naeramarth was a name only vaguely familiar to her. Still, she had her suspicions. Her _'most stalwart of allies'_ was certainly Anguirél, and the House of Hurin had ended with Turin while Gondolin still stood. In the morning she would seek after more details from Elrond.

"_Cabed Naeramarth_, the Leap of Dreadful Doom," Elrond told her, "'twas a site 'nigh the banks of the River Teiglin. Once it was called _Cabed-en-Aras_, the Leap of the Deer, for in that place the river ran deep in a ravine, narrow and steep. 'Twas there that Turin son of Hurin slew Glaurung, the Wyrm of Morgoth. That land is held sacred, just as the lives of those buried 'nigh were deemed accursed."

Helluin regarded Elrond's words with nothing less than amazement. The River Teiglin had run in western Beleriand, but that land now lay 'neath the Sundering Sea. Indeed all Beleriand had been drowned at the end of the First Age.

"Nay, not all, though very nearly so," Elrond disagreed. "Ere the first of the Edain set sail for Elenna, they tested their seacraft in many ships under the tutelage of Cirdan's folk. Amongst those to set sail from Forlindon in those days, some discovered remnants of Beleriand that still stood above the water. These they named by fancy and their best reckoning. So were found closest, Himling, and then the larger mass of Tol Fuin, and finally alone to the south and furthest, Tol Morwen. Whyfore would thou know these things, Helluin?" But the dark Noldo said 'naught in response, for a command had been laid upon her by an authority she deemed exempt from question. Ere its completion her quest concerned none upon the Hither Shores save those named to partake of it.

And now Helluin knew where she was sent and understood the errand set before her, and she declared nothing about it to any. Helluin and Beinvír left for Lindon on 4 Nórui, (June 4th) and passed west through the lands with stealth. It took them until 27 Nórui to reach the Grey Havens, but the fleet of Númenor still lay at anchor.

The Dúnedain army was returning but slowly for many were injured and all were weary. Only a part of the cavalry had arrived. In Mithlond, though all stood in readiness to sail, there was a sense of ease now that the war was won. Helluin and Beinvír asked after the captain that Ulmo had mentioned, and after two days they found him supping in the common room of an inn along the southern shore.

Captain Mórfang was a tall Dúnadan with very dark brown hair and dark eyes rather than the more common grey, and these almost Elven bright, recalling the blood of the First House of the Atani, or perhaps a foremother of that house long in the past. True to his name, he sported a thick black beard, neatly trimmed and including a moustache. Helluin and Beinvír found his brash appearance belied a quiet and serious nature. He was well read in lore and history even for a sea captain, precise in his speech, whether in Adûnaic, Sindarin, or Quenya, and both demanding and proud of his crew. He was, at the time of their meeting, but 44 years of age, very young for a sea captain, but well respected and deemed highly competent by his peers. Beyond this, he was possessed of a deep seated sense of pride and responsibility.

"Captain, thou may think me fey, or perhaps deluded," Helluin had said, "but I am come hither at the command of the Lord of the Waters, and this for the second time in my life, and I am to undertake a mission at his behest. Thus I am in need of a captain and a ship."

"And howsoever hath thou come to engage me in thy quest," he asked, not for a moment questioning the veracity of her statement. 'Twas as if he had read the truth of her heart in her eyes and trusted his own judgment, something Helluin hadn't expected from a mortal.

"Indeed thy name was put forth by the Lord Ulmo," she replied, "and I questioned not his wisdom."

The captain nodded. It made sense to him. He was one of those few amongst the armada who owned his own ship rather than sailed as a commissioned officer for the crown. He was a Captain Venturer, not a Naval Officer, and only due to the dire need for ships had he agreed to serve as a troop transport.

"Whither goes't thou, Helluin?" He asked, expecting perhaps Lond Daer or Edhellond.

"Tol Morwen," she said softly.

At her words the captain sucked in his breath, for to him, they carried the ring of fate. Not since ere the foundering of Beleriand in the last Age had a mortal Man set foot upon that hallowed ground. Yet who was he to gainsay a Vala? He was called. He would sail.

Helluin and Beinvír took ship from Mithlond with the next day's tide, and with fair weather and calm seas made their way to Tol Morwen. The solitary isle lay some 250 miles west off the coast of Forlindon, and about 225 miles north of the Gulf of Lune. It was small, so small in fact, that Helluin took it for an omen that they had found it at all in the vastness of the Sundering Sea.

Coming thence to the shore of that blessed isle after but six days aboard ship, they were the first to make landfall upon it since the changing of the world at the end of the First Age. Helluin led Beinvír and Captain Mórfang ashore alone, leaving behind the crew, and she guided them inland from the narrow strand. Helluin bore a small sack o'er one shoulder and Beinvír a light, narrow-bladed shovel. They made their way uphill until they reached the highest ground, and this was 'nigh a tall grey stone, just as the Lord Ulmo had said.

Then coming to stand before its face, they saw runes carved deep upon it in the Cirth of Doriath, and though those letters had borne many centuries of weathering, still they were to be understood. There Helluin read in the Sindarin tongue, _TURIN TURAMBAR DAGNIR GLAURUNGA_**¹** and beneath, _NIENOR NÍNIEL_**²**. Equally weathered, but more crudely carved and now barely readable upon the stone's western face, they made out the words,_Si gohain úben e-chae Morwen Eledhwen_**³. **

**¹**(**TURIN TURAMBAR DAGNIR GLAURUNGA, _Turin Master of Doom Glaurung's Bane, _**Sindarin)

**²**(**NIENOR NÍNIEL, _Mourning Tear-Maiden, _**Sindarin)

**³**(** Si gohain úben e-chae Morwen Eledhwen, **lit trans **_Here together with them (is) the resting place (of )Morwen Eledhwen,_** ver trans_ **Here lies also Morwen Eledhwen** _**_sí_** (here) **+ _go- _**(together) **_+ hain_**(3rd pers pl neut pro, them) +**_ úben_**(not without, with) **_e-chae_** (the resting place)_ **mor**_(dark) + **_(g)wen_**(maiden) _**eledh**_(Elf ar,) + **_(g)wen_**(maiden) Sindarin)

Now Captain Mórfang, knowing this grave site for what it was, fell to his knees with tears in his eyes, doing honor and reverence in memory of this fell fighter of the Edain, the accursed and the ill-fated son of the greatest mortal warrior of Beleriand. Hurin was a man who had defied a Vala rather than submit to his evil will. He had lived in torment; a prisoner cursed and forced to watch the destruction of his family, yet through all his years of captivity he had never bowed to Morgoth. Long the captain knelt unmoving before the stone and the shadows crept 'round it from west to east fleeing the sun.

When finally he blinked and looked up again, he noted Helluin slowly walking a spiral of diminishing radius around the grave site. Beinvír stood quietly off to the west with the sun at her back, casting forth a lengthening shadow before her as she watched. Helluin was moving in silence, a determined look upon her face, with the unsheathed sword Anguirél held point downwards before her. The black blade was clenched unwavering in her grasp, passing a couple inches above the ground, the sole focus of her attention.

Around and around the stone she went, and though the captain couldn't be absolutely sure, still it appeared that Helluin's course covered every inch of ground. He knew no mortal would have been able to survey the land so precisely, but he didn't doubt such ability in one of the Eldar. 'Twas merely one of the many mysteries he'd observed that separated the two kindreds of the Children of Iluvatar.

What treasure she sought was also a mystery. Helluin had claimed to be searching at Ulmo's command, but she had repeatedly refused to name her purpose. Indeed since their initial meeting he had learned little beyond what she had first revealed. Of course he was curious, but he was also patient.

The captain continued watching Helluin closely, following her slow progress with his eyes, trying to discern any shift in her attention, any telltale alteration in her focus. He craned his neck as she went out of sight behind him around the stone. Captain Mórfang found that Helluin's continued motion, unchanging in pace and purpose, was lulling to the eyes, and ere long the captain found himself yawning and blinking to maintain his attention on her. How did she herself keep awake, he wondered? How did she keep her mind from wandering? She had been at it for hours. Surely it had to be boring even to one of the Firstborn. And how did Beinvír manage to watch her, motionless hour after hour as she had remained, in what must be an even more boring task? He couldn't find an answer, and as the sun sank to the waves, his head nodded.

"_Yé! Utúvienyes!_**¹" **Helluin cried out, startling the captain from his doze.

**¹**(**Yé! Utúvienyes! _Behold! I hath found it!_** **_yé _**(look here, lo!) **_+ U-_**(ómataina) **+_ túva-_**(come upon_, find_) + **_-ie_**(perf. near past, _have found_) **+ _-n(ye-)_**(1st pers subj, _I_) + **_-s_**(3rd pers neut obj, _it_) Quenya)

Captain Mórfang jerked around to find Helluin half a fathom from the stone's eastern side, forcing the tip of Anguirél into the earth. A bluish flame, shifting and ghostly, seemed to waver over the blade's surface. Beinvír was striding towards her bearing the shovel. He looked on in horror, believing that they intended to excavate Turin's grave! An Elf was going to desecrate the grave of the son of Hurin Thalion! He leaped to his feet.

"By the Holy Names of the Valar, surely thou intend not to disturb the bones of the dead," he exclaimed. He rushed over to Helluin and stared at the ground in shock. The black bladed sword was free of her hand and working its way deeper into the soil of its own volition. There was something viscerally terrifying about the weapon's animation.

"My Lord Captain, I seek not to disturb the sleep of this noble _Adan_**¹**, but only to repay a debt laid upon me long ago."

**¹**(**Adan,_ Man_**, (sing.), (pl. **_Edain_**),one of mortal race of the Three Houses of the Elf Friends of the First Age. Sindarin)

"And what debt can'st thou possibly owe to the House of Hurin, whose last son long ago passed beyond Arda?" Turin had died o'er 1,800 years before.

"Upon the field of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad ere all was lost, Hurin Thalion and his brother urged me away from the coming defeat, but charged me to succor the sons of their houses yet to be. At Avernien I paid that debt to the House of Huor. This day I shalt repay the noble House of Hurin."

Captain Mórfang didn't know whether to believe what he had just heard. Though he knew well the story of the Sack of Avernien and its Avenger, those deeds had occurred so long ago that to speak with one who had lived in those times was numbing. Indeed he'd had grave doubts about the propriety of coming hither to Tol Morwen at all. The Dúnedain considered this ground sacred. On impulse he reached out for the hilt of the sword, which by now stood with o'er half its length in the soil.

"Stand ye fast! Thy death shalt surely find thee and soon, distant son of _Dúrrél_**¹**," Anguirél's icy voice warned. "Hinder thou not the search of a next of kin."

**¹**(**Dúrrél, _Dark Daughter, dúr_**(dark) + **_rél_**(daughter) Sindarin)

The captain withdrew his hand as if it had been burnt and stared at the sword in horror. When he looked up, Helluin and Beinvír were both staring closely at him.

"Who was Dúrrél?" Beinvír asked. Helluin was curious too, but had her suspicions.

It was some time ere Captain Mórfang could find his voice. He was in shock and had indeed many questions of his own.

"Until this moment none knew for sure if indeed Lady Dúrrél had ever lived," he said at last. "It hath been said that she was by three years the elder daughter of Baragund and that she left Dorthonian for marriage still young in the very year of the Dagor Bragollach. But the House of Bëor was all but destroyed in that war and much was forgotten, and Lady Dúrrél came not into the tales of those years."

Beinvír nodded to him but Helluin was silent. Removed by 1,800 years, Captain Mórfang was a distant cousin of Turin, second cousin of Tuor, and therefore related with yet a further degree of separation to both Elrond and the Kings of Númenor. _No wonder Ulmo chose him,_ she thought, _for this place would mean more to him than to any other._

"Dig thou hither," Anguirél declared, prompting Beinvír forward with the shovel.

Helluin withdrew the sword and sheathed her, then took the shovel and began to dig. She proceeded slowly and carefully down the line Anguirél had penetrated, until at last she struck metal at the bottom of the narrow hole.

Setting aside the shovel, Helluin reached into the hole with her long arm. Twice she searched underground and twice she brought up her hand bearing black steel. First came the hilt shard, ending mid-blade in a clean break. Next came the distal shard. Helluin tested the joint and found that the breaks matched. Nothing had been left behind.

She set down the halves of Anglachel, renamed Gurthang by Turin after reforging in Nargothrond, and cleaned them. After all the years in the earth, the black steel showed no tarnish, but the pale fire of the blade was extinguished and it spoke no more. When Helluin was done, she placed the shards in the sack. Then she stood and carefully refilled the hole.

"We art finished, I deem," she announced, hefting the sack over her shoulder.

Without further comment, Helluin led the way back downhill to the ship, a silent Beinvír and a somber Captain Mórfang trailing behind. He had much to think about, for alone of all Men living in Middle Earth, he had seen the last resting place of Turin Turambar and Morwen Eledhwen, and the Black Sword of Nargothrond. In that same hour he had seen also the Black Sword of Gondolin. He may well have been the only Man to ever see both of the sentient blades, forged ere the ruin of Beleriand by Eol of Nan Elmoth, while perhaps the last to see the twain together had been the smith himself.

Like most of the Dúnedain he had been raised with an acquaintance of the lore of the past. More than many though, he knew not only the history of Westernesse, but also the stories of the First Age and Beleriand. Yet never before had he felt with such immediacy his connection to the legendary Edain of the past. Lives lived well 'nigh two millennia before had become real in the present as he'd confronted the artifacts upon Tol Morwen. And he had done so in the company of one who had lived in those far gone days, had known those whose names had already faded into myth; one whose memories stretched back far further still. He could only wonder what Helluin intended to do next.

They cast off the following morning and rode the tide southwest, out to sea rather than heading southeast back to land. Captain Mórfang gave Helluin a questioning look but held his peace and followed the heading she had requested. They maintained this course for a week, crossing the most accommodating seas the crew had ever sailed, and reckoned that they had come some 1,600 miles, placing them north and well west of Númenor…and for a mortal ship, uncomfortably close to the Shadowy Seas 'nigh Aman.

"Stand hither now and hold thy position, Captain," Helluin said that evening after climbing the mainmast and searching the waters ahead with her Elven sight, "for upon thy vessel 'tis forbidden to venture further. We shalt tarry no more than a day."

Captain Mórfang simply nodded and passed the orders to the sailing master. He wondered if his passengers were to be taken hence to the Blessed Shores, leaving thence the Mortal Lands forever. Night fell with no sign of activity upon the sea, and through the hours of darkness no word came from the watch. In the morning a squall approached and by the third hour past dawn the ship was deep in a fog bank, though no rain fell.

The crew found themselves in an eerie seascape, wherein sight ended at the gunwales and the upper masts were lost in a shroud of cloud. Sounds were muffled and even the lapping of the waves upon the hull seemed to come softly and from a great distance. No hint of sun shone o'erhead, and indeed one quarter looked much as another, and there was no clue as to the hour save the sandglass. The only movement 'nigh to hand was the slowly swirling tendrils of fog which made their way amidst the lines and rigging and laid upon all souls the feeling of a slowing of time unto a standstill. So pervasive and convincing was this illusion that none dared to move swiftly, for to do so had come to seem unnatural.

Sometime near what the ship's bell declared to be noon, Helluin and Beinvír made their way topside and stood amidships at the rail upon the starboard side. Here they were facing west, if the ship had not rotated in its position, and there they waited, drawing the attention of the watch. Captain Mórfang thought it wise to join them, and so he came to stand beside Helluin, one hand upon the rail, staring out into the fog.

Shortly later, or so it seemed, though the passing of time was a futile exercise without a rumor of the sun, a whisper upon the water was heard, as of the soft passage of a hull. The captain leaned upon the rail squinting, the better to see any that approached. Then out of the murk came a swan-prowed ship, white timbered, and with a subtle glimmer of light about it. Its single mast bore only a furled sail, and yet the craft hove alongside and smoothly slowed to a halt. The captain and his crew were very impressed; they could not hath maneuvered better under the fairest of conditions. But how had this crew found them with visibility so poor? With his crew he stared at the new arrivals in wonder.

The mariners of the Amanyar, for they could be no others, cast up no lines, nor sought to fix the two crafts together in any way, yet never did they drift apart, but maintained their relative positions as one. Upon the deck of the white ship stood but six figures, four in the raiment of sailors, doubtlessly Teleri out of Alqualonde like the seacraft, and other two robed in white. These were golden haired, tall and grave. Their eyes were strongly lit with the Light of Aman and their bright faces were utterly ageless. So unnatural did they appear that the captain found his mouth dry and his hands shaking upon the rail.

_Vanyar, _Helluin thought, _and no doubt lords of that kindred. Their like I hath not seen in a very long time…not since they came to war in Beleriand, and thence only from afar. Longer still hast it been ere I last saw any of Lord Ingwe's people so close._ To these two, Helluin and Beinvír bowed deeply.

"_Vanima. Utúliet_**¹," **the nearer of the robed figures said in a voice that was at once soft but piercing.

**¹**(**Vanima** (good)** Utúliet, _Thou hath come, túla- _**(come) + **_U-_** + **_-ie_** (perf near past suff) + **_-t_** (subj pro, thou) Quenya)

"_Ten i valie Ulmou, utúlien_**¹," **Helluin calmly replied.

**¹**(**Ten i valie Ulmou, utúlien, _By the order of Ulmo, I hath come, ten_** (because) + **_i _**(the) + **_vala- _**(order(by vala) + **_-ie _**(verbal noun) + **_Ulmo _**+**_ -u_** (gen, of) +**_ túla-_** (come) + **_U-_** + **_-ie _**(perf near past) + **_-n_**(subj pron, I) Quenya)

At a nod from the robed one she had spoken with, Helluin handed the sack over the rail and lowered it by a line to the uplifted hands of the Vanya on the white ship. Without looking, he passed it to his companion.

"_Namárie_**¹**, _Heldalúne Maica i móremenel_**²," **he said

**¹**(**Namárie, _farewell_** Quenya) **²**(**Heldalúne _helda_** (naked)**_ + lúne_** (blue), _Quenya trans of Sindarin **Helluin **_**_hel(d) _**(naked) + **_luin _**(blue) **Maica i móremenel, _Piercing the Dark Heavens maica_** (piercing) + **_i_** (art, the) + **_móre_** (dark) + **_menel_** (heavens) Quenya trans of the Sindarin **_Maeg-mórmenel_**)

At once the white ship began to move away, but ere a moment had passed, the figure let the merest hint of a grin shape his lips and he called back to Helluin.

"_Arandil tultat melarya yerna melisserya_**¹**_."_

**¹**(**Arandil tultat melarya yerna melisserya,_ Arandil sends (for you) his love to his old lover Arandil + tutta-_**(send for) + **_-t _**(pron suff, you) + **_mela-_** (love) + **_-rya _**(poss pron, his) + **_yerna_**(old)**+ _melisse_**(f.)(lover) + **_-rya _**(poss pron, his) Quenya)

To this Helluin laughed lightly, but Beinvír possessively wrapped her arms around Helluin and planted a deep kiss upon her lips. It warmed her heart greatly when she felt Helluin's arms come around her and pull her closer yet. The Green Elf was very happy to think her claim would be conveyed to Aman. _Let my reputation precede me hence beyond the Halls of Mandos,_ she thought in satisfaction, _and let my beloved's old flame find his happiness in his love for his king. He was unwise to let her get away._

It took only moments for the white ship carrying the two Vanyar to disappear into the fog, and it went thither in silence as it had come. Ere evening the fog blew off, revealing a fine sunset and a calm sea. A gentle breeze came up from the west, and quickly it grew to a comfortable strength for sailing. They had completed their mission and were being dismissed from the waters 'nigh the Undying Lands.

"Would thou convey us hence to Lindon, my good Captain?" Helluin asked.

"Gladly shalt I do so, Helluin," Captain Mórfang said, "and I should thank thee as well, for in thy company I hath seen wonders."

"Such is a part of what keeps my heart upon the Hither Shores, for I hath long ago seen all upon those Undying." Here she looked over and met Beinvír's eyes and held her glance until the captain cleared his throat and withdrew.

"Shalt we go thither," she asked the Green Elf, casting a quick glance up to the talan atop the mainmast, "it looks to be a fine night to watch the stars."

At a nod from her beloved she began to climb the rigging.

**To Be Continued**

9


	44. In An Age Before Chapter 44

**In An Age Before – Part 44**

_General Audience- Hadn't been able to log in and update for a while until I discovered that to access the author functions on this site one has to enable 3rd party cookies on the firewall. Wonder whose they are?_

_Calvusfelix- glad you enjoyed the last chapter and appreciated the irony. I'm sure you'll find more in the chapters to come. My Middle Earth is a twisted place at times._**

* * *

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**Chapter Thirty-one**

**_Calenglad i'dhaer (Eryn Galen) – The Second Age of the Sun_**

The years following the War of the Elves and Sauron had seemed to pass all too quickly to Helluin, and with every new decade some of the ancient nobility and spirit within Arda diminished or was lost. Yet day by day life had slowly advanced without dramatic traumas or the sharp turning points of doom. Beinvír and Helluin wandered the lands of Eriador and Rhovanion together, coming at times also south of the Ered Nimrais to the Kingdom of Belfalas. They were known in Lindon, Mithlond, and Imladris, and it was taken for granted that they would be together forever, whether in Arda or in the West.

Now in the years after the war concluded and Helluin retrieved Anglachel and delivered his remains to the Vanyar from Aman, few things of great renown came to pass in Middle Earth. Among those few eventsof which lore doth speakwere the first White Council of Imladris, and the love of Elrond and Celebrian, the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel. Indeed the two events were linked, for when Galadriel had come from Lórinand in S.A. 1710 seeking Celeborn, she had been accompanied thither by their daughter.

To that initial council no summons had come to Helluin. Indeed she was hardly surprised. Yet again she had been excluded from the counsels of her king. Gil-galad, Cirdan, Galdor, Glorfindel, and many other lords from Lindon and Mithlond had journeyed across Eriador to meet with Elrond and the leaders from the other Elven realms. Thither, as was said, had come Galadriel and Celebrian, and with them King Amdír of Lórinand, his son, Prince Amroth, and many of his advisors. There also went King Oropher of Greenwood, ever suspicious of the Noldor, accompanied by his son, Prince Thranduil, and even an emissary from King Lenwe of Edhellond. Besides Helluin, those not invited included Tórferedir and all of the Laiquendi.

The meeting of the council was hardly a secret. In the forests 'nigh rebuilt Sarn Athrad upon Baranduin, the wood was thick with Green Elves. Never since the war had they seen so many of the nobles of the Noldor and Sindar riding together with purpose.

"Whither goes't yonder lords, riding hence so many and so fair, think thou?" Asked _Gwilolrán_**¹,** Tórferedir's lieutenant, as he looked out from the trees at the passing assemblage. Beside him, the King's Hunter too looked to Helluin.

**¹**(**Gwilolrán, _Flying Moon,_ _gwilo- _**(fly) + **_-l_** (act pres part suff, -ing) _+ **rán**_ (moon) Sindarin)

"I wager they go either to a council or a celebration well planned," she said, noting that the Noldor came with no great escort of soldiers, but with scribes and store of provisions, and they went not in haste, nor tarried as if at their leisure. "They art too many for a private holiday, and too few for a siege. They ride too fast for a lighthearted revel, and far too slow for an emergency. By their direction, I should say they make for Imladris or Lórinand, for Eregion lies in desolation and Ost-In-Edhil in ruins."

"And they doth seek not either thy company or counsels, Helluin?" Tórferedir asked.

"Tórferedir, they asked not my aid in the war, and when at last I arrived following our battle, thence to the Dúnedain was't I assigned. Nay, no word hath come to me, nor should I expect such," Helluin said, trying to stifle her annoyance with being yet again disregarded. "Yet perhaps I should go thither and arrive uninvited simply for the sake of embarrassing the hosts. Indeed I am curious as to what they intend. Art thou not curious as well?"

"If thou think'th that to a council they doth go, then yes, indeed I am curious," he said.

"Perhaps thou should come before them with some dire tidings known to none other then thyself aforetime," Beinvír suggested, "t'would be in character at the least."

"T'would make Gil-galad all the more resolved to ignore me until the end of days," Helluin said, "and leave me thence subject to some errantry unwelcome, I wager, for ever aforetime hast such been my reward." Still, she couldn't help but grin at the prospect.

"I should see thee not dispatched thither to Harad or Khand on account of my curiosity, Helluin," Tórferedir said, chuckling, "nor would I see Beinvír sent thither with thee."

"I appreciate thy concern immensely, of course," Helluin said, "yet I am tempted to hasten thither on my own account despite it."

"Perhaps 'tis time to let lay the dogs and leave them to scratch their own fleas," Beinvír said, "I should rather like to see again the Greenwood, but without enduring Oldbark's welcomes. Since no royalty accompanies us now, t'would be possible, would it not?"

She looked at Helluin hopefully. Helluin smiled back. _Go whither I am not wanted, or go thither and abet my beloved's desire,_ Helluin asked herself, _'tis hardly a choice worthy of thought. And in truth I hath no desire to see Harad or Khand._

"Very well," she said, "to Calenglad i'dhaer we shalt go."

Beinvír very nearly danced with happiness. As always, her enthusiasm and joy warmed Helluin's heart. She held out her hand and the Helluin immediately clasped it.

"I suppose we shalt be going," Helluin said to Tórferedir and Gwilolrán.

The two nodded to them expecting no further farewells. Amongst their people 'twas not uncommon for one to take one's leave informally and return whenever they chose, with neither schedule nor itinerary. By declaring their destination, Helluin and Beinvír had already supplied as much information as was customary. Their route and its timeframe was their own business, and in time of peace the Laiquendi would never think to constrain them or pry with further questions. It was simply against their nature.

So Helluin and Beinvír walked out of the forest hand in hand, the riding of the Noldor only recently past. Dust still hung in the air and hoof beats could still be heard drawing away into the near distance. Helluin and Beinvír ignored them and followed the road to Sarn Athrad at a leisurely pace. Once across the ford they immediately left the road and headed through the woods to its north, though they continued to follow its track. Their next destination was the Sirannon and the West Gate of Khazad-dum. To reach it, they would cross the Gwathlo at Tharbad.

Now when they came to the ruin of Ost-In-Edhil 'twas a sorrowful sight to look upon. Broken walls and burnt masonry traced the line of the outer wall. Toppled stones and the twisted gates marked the entrance. Helluin shook her head as they passed and neither were willing to tarry amidst such a depressing landscape. Through a gap rent in the courses of stones lay the vista of a city leveled to the ground. Sauron's troops had spared nothing, as usual, consecrating their destruction with fire.

Star-blue eyes swept past the place where Helluin recalled the White Tower standing, but there was 'naught save more rubble to mark the site. A short distance away, only the steps leading up to the doorway marked the Hall of the Gwaith-I-Mirdain. Somehow the interval between the two seemed shorter than Helluin remembered it, now that no buildings stood between. For a moment, she wondered why even the steps had been spared, then came to the suspicion that they had remained as a monument to Sauron's triumph. Upon those very steps his soldiery had taken Celebrimbor prisoner. The thought made her seethe as she helplessly recalled his fate and Sauron's cowardice.

_Bastard ran from me_, she chaffed, unconsciously producing a low growl in her throat at the memory. Beside her, Beinvír cast her eyes at her partner. The Noldo was seeing with her mind's eye rather than what was before her. She shook her head.

"Helluin, the ghosts that haunt thee art only in thy mind, for the departed hath made their way across the sea," she said, "revive not their shades to assail thee, my friend."

"Hard pressed am I to thwart their cries, though they ring only from my fancy unto my waking mind," Helluin replied.

"The war is past, _meldanya_," Beinvír said, trying out the Quenya she had heard Helluin speak. It didn't translate exactly from Sindarin, a fact she liked very much.

"Yet the memories remain, _meldis meldwain nin_," Helluin replied.

"I know," Beinvír agreed, "longer than the fallen leaves."

Two days later they rounded a curve on the road to the West Doors and found the sentries numbering two dozen and already awaiting them in a wedge formation. Behind the soldiers stood several others of the Naugrim, one amongst them very familiar.

"Helluin of the Noldor, hail and well met," the captain of the company called out in Sindarin, "we rejoice that thou hast survived the war." He and the other guards offered the two ellith a bow.

"As do I of thee, O stalwart Captain," Helluin replied, bowing equally low. "Hail and well met."

She then shifted her attention to the others, her lips curving in a smile.

"Hail and well met, Master Narvi, Glad am I that thou hast survived the war," she said.

"Glad am I to see thee both, my friends," Narvi said as he came forward to greet them. Today the Elves felt a lingering sadness upon the vibrant craftsman. "So many hath been lost of late…so many fallen. Oft in these last years I hath desired in vain that somehow we could hath done aught to amend that of which thou spoke at our last meeting. Alas, we could not. Now art Celebrimbor and all his folk lost, his city and lands fallen to ruin, and many others slain as well. The victory is tainted with bitterness and the world diminished." He heaved a great sigh and looked deeply into Helluin's eyes. "So must the kindred of Belegost hath mourned the loss of Azaghâl in the Nirnaeth at which thou fought. The memories of this war sadden us. However doth thou maintain thyself, Helluin, with all the memories thou hold?"

"Sometimes I know not, my friend," Helluin said, "and the weight of such should hasten my Fading. But for the Beinvír's love and the black rage of battle I should certainly hath become forever morose."

"And so thou still love thy place in Arda," he said, "and despite all that hast come to pass, thou art still attached to this world."

"Indeed so. In all Creation there art for my kindred only the Hither Shores and the Undying. Well did I explore the lands across the seas, and now their greatest attraction is lost forever. More call I doth feel to these lands and those living upon them still. I am not yet weary of it."

Narvi nodded in understanding and for a time was silent, but after a while he resumed, and those of the sentries listened intently to his discourse.

"My folk tell of the unseen enemy upon the enemy's flank in the years when they fought in Eregion. Some force marched there and fell bitter upon the Glamhoth. Yrch prisoners taken by our companies claimed that one there flung into their camps the heads of their slain fellows, and of that enemy did they feel great fear. I hath always thought that in their words I felt the echo of the darkness thou hast claimed. Thou marched not with Celebrimbor, Helluin; doth thou know aught of what I speak?"

Helluin sighed ere she answered. In the time spent while Beinvír healed in Imladris she had actually become surprised at how her conduct had evolved. Flinging the severed heads of the Yrch into their camps had been but the beginning and not the worst. She had fallen deep into the depths of her wrath and she had given free reign to her darkness. She was uncomfortable about it, yet not wracked with remorse. This in itself troubled her. That she could do thus, know it to be questionable, and yet not feel more strongly some revulsion o'er her deeds.

"'Twas as thou hath thought, Narvi. Upon the western flank of the Glamhoth did Beinvír and I wreck havoc upon the Glamhoth in support of the retreating Elven host. Ere Sauron turned to fight the hosts of Khazad-dum and Lórinand, we harried them about Bruinen. Then when they withdrew south, we followed."

At her words the Dwarves gave a great cheer.

"Unto the Ghosts of Mitheithel and Bruinen we doth give honor and renown," the captain of the sentries declared, "most fearsome enemy of the enemies. Thou hast spilt the blood of the Yrch in such plenty that all our warriors envy thy prowess. Hail to thee, allies of old. Thou shalt be held in high honor amongst our kindred until the last of days."

The company gave another great shout. Beinvír looked up at Helluin and the Noldo read much in her eyes. Surprise that their deeds were known and recalled waged with darker memories of what had come after. There too was yet more surprise that those she had ever distrusted had come to hold her in such high esteem. 'Twas far removed from her old expectations of being roasted and eaten by the Naugrim. She hoped they wouldn't ask what she and Helluin had done for the rest of the war though.

"We extend our hospitality unto thee both," Narvi said, "and I am sure that many in Khazad-dum shalt desire to honor thee. Many will be the feasts when word of thy deeds is spread. And indeed, I desire thy company and thy counsel. Will thou not enter into our halls and stay amongst us a while?"

Helluin looked to Beinvír, who gulped and nodded. The Green Elf still felt a residual discomfort at the prospect of being underground, but she was resolved to master it. Narvi at least, was a friend. And in Helluin's company, she had already wandered farther and seen more than any other of her people. And so she was excited to think of being the first of the Laiquendi to set foot within a mansion of her people's traditional unfriends. It would be yet another new experience to add to the tale of her years, and what more did one live for, save love and adventure?

"We shalt be honored to accept thy kind invitation, my noble friends," Helluin said, "for thy timely coming in aid to Eregion upset the enemy and thou bought with thy blood the preservation of many lives. We honor thy league of friendship and thy courage upon the battlefield, and we would honor thee as well as receive honor from thee."

The words of praise were traditional in spirit and greatly approved by all those who stood 'nigh. And so Helluin and Beinvír were ushered through the West Gates of Hadhodrond and into the deep halls of Khazad-dum. It was 17 Lothron, (May 17th) 1710.

"So I am now a Ghost of Bruinen as well as a Ghost of Drúwaith Iaur," Helluin whispered to Beinvír as they passed through the _Ennyn Durin_**¹, "**and thou with me."

**¹**(**Ennyn Durin,** **_Doors of Durin,_** the enchanted West Gates of Khazad-dum, built by Narvi and Celebrimbor. Sindarin)

"I understand now thy earlier claim, that titles art the wage of many miles trudged and many battles lost," Beinvír whispered back, "and I should gladly trade this one for the peace that was broken and the lives that were lost."

"As would I, _meldis meldwain nin_, yet such is not our choice."

By their fourth day in Khazad-dum, the two Elves had eaten so much of the Dwarves' fare that each felt as if they had gained a third again in body weight. The feasting had been very nearly endless. The speeches had become mind-numbing. The toasting and drinking and other celebrations had become well 'nigh revolting in their excess.

"I shalt find my demise here in the deeps more quickly than upon any battlefield," Helluin remarked. "I should doubt that my armor even fits me anymore. Galadriel shalt think me drinking enchanted waters yet again, though this time from a stream whose virtue increases only girth."

"Perhaps she shalt think thee with child?" Beinvír suggested. Helluin choked.

Beinvír was sitting beside her on a sofa, her hands covering her face and her legs sprawled straight out in front of her so as to reduce the experience of a lap. The pressure on her bloated tummy was distinctly uncomfortable.

"Thy friends torture us with merriment and banquets more surely than Sauron with his fires and black arts," she groaned. "Rather than my old fear of being eaten, I hath come to believe the Naugrim slay with excess of kindness and food. I shalt eat myself to death at their tables long ere they roast and eat me. 'Tis such a twist as never would I hath imagined. Yet through night and day they sit beside us supping as ones with bottomless stomachs. Indeed how doth they do it?"

"In all honesty I know not, my friend," Helluin said, "unless it be that the food goes directly to the increase of their beards." She couldn't help revisiting an unwelcome memory of Iarwain's beard chewing the crumbs split from his mouth. She shuddered.

Beinvír tilted her head and regarded Helluin with one eye.

"Say not that I shalt awake with hairy face and bulging belly," she begged. "We must be on our way ere we expire here in the dark. Without sun and moon all times seem as mealtime…'tis neither healthy nor right. We shalt become like Morgoth's thralls in Utumno; Elves ruined in his deep dungeons. Let us be on our way tomorrow, please…"

In spite of their greatest efforts at courtesy and their greatest restraint at table, 'twas two more days ere the pair made their way from Azanulbizar and into Nanduhirion. By then both felt glutted as never before in their long lives. The Naugrim had bid them a joyous farewell, replete with oaths of friendship and alliance, and invitations to return.

Amongst a people whose language held o'er 140 different words for slaying or being slain, the toll Helluin and Beinvír had exacted upon the enemy during the war was regarded as a wondrous testament to the depth of their wrath and their prowess in unleashing it upon their foes. That the enemies had been Yrch was regarded even more favorably. Indeed Helluin had never seen the Naugrim so jovial as when the slinging of the severed heads into the Yrch camps was recounted in the halls of Khazad-dum. The two Elves had become celebrities; very nearly icons of Dwarvish martial culture, and the apotheosis of the warrior spirit. The result was an almost embarrassing form of hero worship…along with endless overeating, drinking, and retellings of the slaughters. Helluin thought a month's starvation a goodly balance for their last week of overindulgence. Beinvír was contemplating begging Helluin to jog with her all the way to the Greenwood, despite her native distaste for traveling in imposed haste.

"No talan in Lórinand is sturdy enough to hold us now, I wager," Helluin muttered as they came 'nigh Celebrant the next evening.

"I cannot imagine climbing for at least a week," Beinvír agreed. "Our weight shalt surely insult the trees. Perhaps we should bypass Amdír's lands entirely." She looked at Helluin, and then off to the south.

"I am not sure I should trade Lórinand for Fangorn," Helluin said, warily eyeing the dark splotch upon the landscape to their south. It seemed to her eyes a blot of night shadow fallen upon the western slopes of the Hithaeglir leading down to the Vale of Anduin. "Besides, 'tis out of our way."

"Thou art correct, of course," Beinvír said, "nor would I favor the dark-hearted and groping trees there o'er the golden mellyrn. Very well, to Lórinand we shalt go, and anyway, our welcome is 'nigh at hand."

The words were fresh out of her mouth when the branches ahead parted and Haldir, March Warden of the Northern Borders, stepped from the trees. He smiled in welcome as he walked toward them.

"_Ai a mae govannen_**¹**, _Helluin en Rimb Finwe a Beinvír Laiquendi_**²**," he said. "Many hundreds of years it hath been since last 'neath the mellyrn thou walked. I bid thee welcome on behalf of King Amdír in his absence."

**¹**(**Ai a mae govannen,_ Hail and well met,_** a traditional greeting. Sindarin) **²**(**Helluin en Rimb Finwe a Beinvír Laiquendi, _Helluin of the Host of Finwe and Beinvír of the Laiquendi,_** gen. const., Sindarin)

As he came closer Haldir's eyes widened, for now he found himself looking up at Helluin more steeply than his memory recalled. He gulped and blinked.

"Greetings, Haldir, noble March Warden of Lórinand," Beinvír said, offering him a smile. "I am glad to find thee well after the war."

Haldir gave her a smile and nodded to acknowledge her words, but his eyes soon flicked back to the Noldo.

"Hail and well met, Haldir," Helluin said, "and yes, I am again taller than when last we met in thy lord's hall. I am sure thou hast noted a similar effect upon Celeborn and Galadriel in the past as well."

She couldn't help smirking at him. Celeborn at least, had appeared taller when she had seen him in Eregion and Imladris during the war. She could only assume that the same was true of his lady and that the Sinda Prince had drunk from Oldbark's stream merely to keep up with her gains in height.

"I am sorry, but seeing again this effect indeed took me at unawares," Haldir said. "Taller thou art every time I see thee and sooth, such effect too was't in the lord and the lady seen. But in them'twas o'er 300 years past, and though 'twas shocking to us at the time, somehow since then familiarity hath bred…familiarity."

"'Tis so, yet glad am I for thy remark upon my height rather than upon my girth."

At this remark, Haldir was completely baffled and he cast his eyes repeatedly up and down Helluin's figure. She stood girded in her black armor and battle dress, the same as she had been when first she'd appeared before him 1,550 years ago, save that she was now a full hand's length taller. No change in her girth, either of gain or loss, had he marked.

"Art thou with child?" He muttered, but he could detect no trace of a second life within her. He looked to Beinvír in his confusion and found 'naught but laughing eyes and a furtive grin upon her lips. He shook his head to clear it. Ever had he found her beauty disconcerting.

"In proportion thou art much as thou hast ever been," he finally declared, "save only for thy increase in height. Neither stretched nor squashed doth thou appears't to my eyes, I am sure. Whyfore then should I hath remarked upon thy girth, Helluin?"

At this both Helluin and Beinvír couldn't restrain themselves from snickering, so seriously was Haldir regarding the dark Noldo. Their laughter confused him yet more.

"I am sorry, my friend," Helluin finally said, "for I should rather laugh with thee then at thee. We art come of late from the halls of Khazad-dum, wherein we hath endured a week of feasting and revels that hast left us o'erstuffed like fatted sows. Indeed 'tis a wonder that Dwarves art not taller, in light of how dedicated they art at table."

At this, Haldir did chuckle knowingly.

"Ah-ha, more plainly now doth I understand thee, for in the war and after, many times heroic feats of consumption by the Naugrim did I witness. For sooth, 'tis a wonder they doth stand not taller than the Tor, or at the least, as bulky. Come hither, my friends, hence to Caras Galadon shalt I be honored to convey thee."

With that, they made their way o'er Celebrant and through the golden woods, a small detachment of the border patrol joining them for the march. Through the afternoon and into the evening they walked, trading stories of the war and tales of their years apart. By nightfall they had come to Tuna-i-Aldoen, and Helluin saw that the central mellyrn had grown tall, forming a crown of trunks about the remains of the ancient central stump. Again, she noted the faintest of glimmers upon that parcel of land, as if some last remnant or fugitive memory of a Valier's touch still lingered there. _Here perhaps Yavanna herself once lay down to rest from her first labors in Arda, and in her thought conceived the first mallorn in the days of Aule's lamplight long ago, _she thought.

They stopped for the night a league further southeast, and despite their original misgivings, Helluin and Beinvír were soon ensconced together on a talan with Haldir, while the remaining guards took one in a tree nearby. Long they remained awake, and by the light of a single lamp, shared many tidings.

"Ill as was't the war, still in it, I deem, some good was't achieved," said Haldir, "for in the years since Sauron's defeat, of Yrch 'naught hath been seen. Few and fearful they art, if indeed so far south of Gundabad and so far north of Mordor doth any still dwell."

"That is good tidings, Haldir," Beinvír said, "for we art making our way hence to Greenwood and shalt travel the more at ease for thy words."

"Another thing there is then of which I should speak," he said, "for in the last two years unto the banks of Anduin hath come Men. Settlers they art, living in homesteads apart from one another. They bother none and art courteous after their fashion, yet independent also and indeed somewhat aloof. And there is yet more. Upon a few nights in this same time, my guards hath marked the comings and goings of great bears such as in many long years hath not been seen. In the Vale of Anduin and up the slopes of Hithaeglir they doth roam. At times we see them sitting, gazing up at Ithil as with reverence, and sometimes at the mountain peaks. They too bother none and we hunt them not for they enter not the forest."

"Do not hunt them, Haldir," Helluin told him, "nor hinder the Men. Neither mean thy people harm, nor will they enter into the forest save only at great need. This pact they hath with thy folk from the days of Lenwin, and with the peace they hath returned to their ancient homelands. Doth thou know them not?"

"Nay, I do not."

"Then I shalt only say that they art enemies of the Enemy as art thou, and all fell creatures do they abhor. They art ancient, Haldir, though I know not the right tale of their origins. Like the Onodrim they look after their own, seeking neither alliances nor waging open war. Yet they were, in days long past, the allies and friends of the House of Durin, and call the mountains their home. I am glad they hath returned."

"Thou hath known then aforetime these settlers?"

"Indeed so. I hath fought in their company with the Naugrim at our sides. Long ago I called one friend. They art noble and shalt trouble thee not."

Haldir nodded, accepting Helluin's opinion. Of all those he had come to know from beyond the borders of his own lands, none had her breadth of experience. Indeed, the only one he had ever met who approached Helluin's range of travels was Galadriel, and she was strange to him, and had been even more so since shortly before the war. In the future she would become stranger still, yet eventually he would come to understand why.

In the morning they went on their way, coming to Caras Galadon in the early afternoon. There Helluin and Beinvír stayed as guests for two days, trading tidings with those of King Amdír's advisors who had not gone to Imladris for the council. On the third day they set out again, going forth from the forest, north toward the River Gladden ere they crossed Anduin. Perhaps it was mere sentimentality, but Helluin wanted to check something there for old times' sake.

**To Be Continued**

10


	45. In An Age Before Chapter 45

**In An Age Before – Part 45

* * *

**

At the verge of the mellyrn wood, thick trunks hid the forms of the two ellith. They stood together scanning the adjacent fields with their sharp eyes. From a short ways off, perhaps a furlong's distance o'er a low rise, came a thin thread of smoke. From yet nearer came the buzzing of bees, and ere the land topped the rise, they marked that the native groundcover had been replaced by tillage of wheat. Helluin smiled, and with her friend, slowly moved from the border of the forest.

Theywalked forward slowly and in plain view, finding a narrow path around the low hill that led to a gate in a fence of split rails, much as one Helluin had seen long before. There beyond it, 'cross a yard of clover and flowers, stood a thatch-roofed cabin of logs from whose chimney the column of smoke was rising.

"'Tis much the same as the home of Berlun and Grinda that stood close by here 1,500 years ago," Helluin told Beinvír, "and in it I see a way of life unchanged o'er many lives of Men. Glad am I to think that some distant son of my friends hath found a home on his ancestors' land, planting and sowing again, tending his bees and milk cows, and perhaps raising here also the next generation of his kind."

"In this place thou find some sanctuary of the heart, my friend, for 'tis a tangible bit of continuity with thy fond memories of a time long past. It makes thee feel less worn by the years, I wager, for it should certainly do thus for me."

"Indeed so, and all the more do I treasure such after the war," Helluin said, "that such might again find their lives in peace and keep to their ancient ways despite all the change that hath come. Yes, it does my heart good."

She recalled her moments of hysteria, while lying on the ground between the marked mounds of the graves of the couple she had known. Seldom had she felt more divorced from the world, from time, and from thetransient nature of allothers in Arda save the Eldar. Her sense of displacement had been strongly triggered by the evidence that, while exploring the mellyrn wood for what had seemed to her but a short time, she had missed the passing of her mortal friends. They had grown old in a blink of her eye, their lives had waned and ended in her absence, and she had never really thought about it until confronted by their graves. Then she had been struck with regret.

"_Berlun, the life of the Eldar, long as it is, becomes the repository of memories and sadness for those things dear that hath passed beyond recall. Would that I had bid thee farewell, my friend." _She had whispered on that day.

Helluin shook her head. The memories remained of course; their imagery undimmed and their impact undiminished. Such was the Life of the Eldar…immortal...and all to often, lonely and introspective.

_Thou art lost and long gone to thy rest, my friend. Yet thy people continue, and one day they shalt know me and my kind as but a memory, fading and finally forgotten with the passing years. Therein lies the undeniable strength of the Mortal Life. In thy children and their children shalt thou live until the end of days, while we of the Eldar fade. With such a survival strategy, thou who art weaker shalt surpass all we hath wrought and come into thine own majesty one day, for time is on thy side, not against thee, whither thou believe it or not. Iluvatar is wise far beyond the ken of his Children._

"Come, let us go," she said. Then with Beinvír beside her, she made her way from the cabin towards the banks of Anduin the Great. Soon they crossed the waters and stood upon the eastern shore.

"Thou sense not Huorns upon the border?" Beinvír asked just to make sure as she glanced nervously towards the edge of Greenwood Forest.

Beside her Helluin was carefully watching the trees. Nothing moved save some birds flitting amongst the branches o'erhead. But for their calls and the whisper of breeze amidst the leaves all was silent. It appeared to be 'naught but a forest at peace.

"I sense little of the watchfulness I hath noted aforetime," she said at last.

"Think thou that we should sing?"

"Nay. Ideem that whatsoever watches o'er Greenwood remains some distance within. I feel no threat. Let us enter here and see what we may."

The two Elves walked 'neath the boles of the trees, Helluin watchful, Beinvír wary but slowly relaxing as time passed without incident. It seemed to her that more sunlight penetrated the canopy than on their previous visit and that the air passed more freely through the leaves. They saw nothing untoward, either of the olvar or the kelvar, and eventually they came to feel more at ease. The afternoon passed and they traveled some four leagues from the river ere evening fell.

"I should come first to Laiquadol, and there seek for Oldbark," Helluin said as they settled amidst the same quartz boulders where they had passed their first night with Celeborn and Galadriel…and the earthworms.

"I agree, though I suspect he shalt soon know of usfrom his own sources," Beinvír replied. "Was't he not privy to word even from Lórinand aforetime?"

"Indeed so. The trees ever gossip upon the breeze and bear tidings to ears that know their tongue. I seek Oldbark as one would any sovereign when coming as a guest unto his realm," Helluin said, "as a courtesy, and for sake of tidings such as he would share."

"Perhaps we should seek also the kingdom of Oropher while we art hither, for he too is lord of a realm within Greenwood."

"Hmmm, perhaps we shalt," Helluin said, a calculating gleam taking light in her eye to accompany the grin that curled her lips. At this, Beinvír nodded suspiciously. Her friend was planning something and she doubted that Oropher would enjoy it.

The night passed uneventful, with neither the unearthing of nightcrawlers nor the almost spiteful churning of the soil by the trees' roots. Indeed t'was a peaceful rest the Elves had in the hours of darkness. When they arose the next morn, only minimal shifting of the nearby trees did they mark. None had wandered off or stalked about with pent up anger.

"Well, that was certainly a more refreshing repose than when last we stayed hither," Beinvír remarked as she folded her blanket of mixed pelts. Only once during the night had she briefly risen from her "dreams", and then only to pluck a large slug from her arm and shoo it off amongst the boulders. She had admonished it but briefly ere dismissing it, while it regarded her with eyes on stalks, for it had knownno better.

Helluin nodded in agreement with Beinvír's words. For her part, she had rolled up onto an elbow once when araccoon had come sniffling past their camp, preoccupied, searching in the leafmould with its snout. She had given it a warning glare and it had retreated a couple yards. Thereafter they had ignored each other and she had returned to her rest.

They continued walking east towards Laiquadol all that day. The weather was quite fair, for 'twas early Nórui, (June). At one point in the afternoon, even did they see a forest doe with her two young, walking at a distance across their path. Their most constant companion amongst the kelvar of Greenwood was a mockingbird who flitted from tree to tree o'erhead, regaling them with the calls of every other bird in the wood. For her amusement along the way, Beinvír fell into a game of testing his repertoire.

The bird would whistle forth, producing the tune of a robin. Beinvír would then answer with the call of a bluebird. He then would mimic her note for note, winning a smile of approval. She would then whistle the notes of a nightingale's song and he would respond in kind. It went on thus for a while. When it came time again for Beinvír's turn, Helluin laid a hand upon her friend's arm to still her, and then performed the quick trill of a _lis ince_**¹**. The mockingbird tilted its head to regard her as if in question. Helluin repeated the call. The bird tried it out, only faltering slightly upon the final crescendo. Helluin again repeated the call. The bird followed flawlessly. Helluin gave another call; that of an _ambale_, (yellow hammer bird), and this time the mockingbird mimicked it on the first try. A few more did the Noldo teach to the feathered singer of Middle Earth, warblings from the throats of species native to the Undying Realm across the sea. For a while thereafter the bird practiced his new tunes, seemingly proud of his enhanced repertoire, ere he flew off ahead of them to the east.

**¹**(**lis ince, _honey bird, lis_**(honey) + **_ince_**(small bird) Quenya)

"I am sure that ere dusk, Oldbark shalt hath heard the call of the west from the throat of that bird," Helluin said, "and he shalt mark it, for he misses 'naught that comes to pass within his realm."

Indeed 'twas so. After passing their second night in the Greenwood, upon the same granite outcropping where they had been o'errun by the spiders, Oldbark met them upon their path in the late morning.

"Hoooo-hooom. If it isn't Helluin called also Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwe and Beinvír of the Laiquendi friend and companion on the road of Helluin," he said while beaming down at them. "It is good to see thee both again…and so soon."

Helluin smiled and Beinvír rolled her eyes. It had been 335 years.

"Greetings, my Lord Oldbark," Helluin said, offering a sweeping bow, "I am glad to see thee well. Thy forest seems at peace, and much happiness doth that bring me after the upheavals of recent years."

The Onod nodded and actually smiled at her sentiments.

"Much has come to pass in the lands beyond the forest's borders of late, or so I have heard," he said, nodding to himself, "and little of it good save the resolution. That miserable little outcast, Sauron managed to bring some of his foulness to the west, I hear. I am sure you can give me all the details I should care to learn…perhaps later though. His story is ever the same at heart and I am sure I have heard right down to the core of his evil aforetime."

"Thou hast heard true," Helluin agreed, "for he brought death and destruction to Eriador but was defeated in his war, though Celebrimbor was slain and all the realm of Eregion laid waste."

"So I have heard, um-hmmm," Oldbark said, shaking his head. "I hath also heard he fled thy offer of combatat the end." He regarded her with a careful glance but his lips hinted at a grin.

"What?" Beinvír asked, looking at Helluin with wide eyes. "Thou hast said naught of this."

"Towards the end of the fighting things became somewhat…confused," Helluin hedged.

Oldbark chuckled. A look of disapproval shaded the Green Elf's features.

"Helluin, as much as any who fought, served to undo the plans of Sauron Gorthaur, young Laiquende, or so I have heard," Oldbark said to Beinvír ere he turned to Helluin and offered her a flick of an eyelid that might have been a wink.

Beinvír accepted his words with a chuff and a sigh, resolving to question her beloved more closely about the final battles of the war. Oldbark turned back to face them both.

"I have heard that many of themighty ones of thy kindreds have gone o'er Hithaeglir to some great council. Oropher grumbled long ere he went forth, dragging his son Thranduil thither at his side. Word has it that the nobles of Lórinand went thither as well," Oldbark mused. "Soooo, why have you come hither rather than thither, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwe, eldest of the Noldor upon these Hither Shores? Surely your counsel is valued?"

"Indeed it is not," Helluin replied.

"Ever it seems the king doth seek to distance himself from her, though she is the most widely traveled of them all," Beinvír said in irritation. "Few in Lindon harken to her, heeding her counsels only grudgingly, and then most oft in times of threat. To my eyes they art pompous and ungrateful, great ones though they be."

Oldbark regarded the Green Elf's anger with a knowing nod. Helluin sighed.

"I am absent from them save when I bear ill tidings thither," Helluin said. "Such wins me scant thanks, and I deem the king regards me much as he would a storm cloud or a pestilential breeze. He hast come to question my wits as well, for I misplaced 82 years in his presence once upon a time, and ever from of old hast my battle fury discomfited him." She shrugged.

"Mmm-hmmmm, I see," said the Onod. "So instead you came to Greenwood to teach new songs to birds?"

"Indeed 'tis just so," Helluin agreed, "and by thy leave, I would show my friend the wonders of thy forest, now that it thrives in peace."

"We require no special welcomes," Beinvír added with a cautious glance up at the Onod.

"Oooh-hoooo now," Oldbark said, "it gladdens my heart to think that you wish to enjoy the forest for itself, and I believe I know you both well enough to expect no trouble to come of your stay…no new kingdoms or any of that nonsense. You are both wanderers after the fashion of Elves in the old days. Very well, you have my leave to explore to your hearts' content. Stay as you like; the forest will be here a very long time."

The two Elves bowed to the Lord of Greenwood, a gesture which seemed to kindle a light of mirth in his eyes, but he dipped his "head" to them in return. So began Helluin and Beinvír's stay in Calenglad i'Dhaer. It was 3 Norui, (June 3rd), S.A. 1710.

'Neath the trees of Greenwood the years passed in peace. Following Sauron's defeat, not an Orch or Easterling was to be found in Rhovanion, and any who lingered 'nigh remained well hidden for many decades. Helluin and Beinvír enjoyed their travels, wandering as their fancy called them, east, west, north, and south. Despite some tension arising from Helluin's Noldorin identity, for a time they stayed as guests amongst the people of Oropher, who had settled in that time about the southern side of the Emyn Duir. The two found that people surprisingly numerous.

Though Oropher and his son had come hither from Lindon by way of Eregion and were Sindar, most of his subjects were Tawarwaith, Silvan Elves related to the Galadrim, for they had chosen to follow Lenwe when he left the Westward March. In this time of peace they had few borders and little cause for wariness, and so many went hither and thither, following their hearts amidst the forest. Thus they lived much more the lives of Nandor than Sindar. Oft times Helluin and Beinvír would join with some company, wandering at liberty for a year or more ere returning to Oropher's halls. The lifestyle particularly appealed to Beinvír, being familiar from her home in Eriador amongst her own people. To Helluin the company seemed at times too numerous for her more solitary nature, yet 'twas still infinitely preferable to city life.

Once King Oropher even joined them with a number of his household, straying far south for a season during the summer. The two ellith found him never mirthful, for the weight of rule weighed on him even while at ease, but he was more relaxed under the sky than in his halls, able to smile, tell tales, and sing with a fine voice beside the campfire at night. And late on just such a night, he confessed that for him, such forays recalled his youth in Doriath long before.

'Twas for just such purpose he had come east o'er the Hithaeglir. For many years he had sought a way to distance himself from the culture of Beleriand and the concerns of the Noldor, ("No offense intended, Helluin," he had said), in order to reclaim a mode of life he felt now existed only amongst the Moriquendi. He wanted to get "back to nature", and live an unfettered life as had the Sindarin Elves in the starlit years. In return, Helluin had smiled and told him of the realm of the Avari she had once known to the north of the Forest River. Oropher's eyes had lit up at the mention of the caves of King Telpeapáro, for they renewed his memories of Menegroth while times had still been good in the days of Thingol and Melian.

In her heart, Helluin found that she could hardly blame him for his attitude. Had she the choices to make again…for a moment she fancied herself remaining in Aman another 650 years, and then coming to the Hither Shores just as the Host of the West was returning from the War of Wrath. She would hath come to Lindon and then made a beeline east into Eriador. She shook her head, dispelling the idle fantasy.

Helluin found that King Oropher's son, Prince Thranduil, was still possessed of the light spiritedness of youth, being but 11 centuries old at the time. The weight of memories and the cares of rule had yet to burden him as they later would. As such, he still retained his curiosity. He oft asked her for songs of Valinor and accompanied her on a harp as she sang, his nimble fingers giving the instrument a lilting voice as he played, his eyes closed in rhapsody. Both father and son became fast in friendship with Helluin and Beinvír during that time, and the two were ever welcome in their realm even when the days again became dark. So time passed.

'Twas a fine day in Gwirith, (April), S.A. 1847, when a mockingbird had flown down to alight on Beinvír's shoulder. The bird had hopped to and fro in excitement, drawn the Green Elf's hair through its beak as if grooming its mate's feathers, and even searched in her ear for lice. Beinvír had giggled at the tickling motions of its frantic beak. Finally it had seemed to recover itself, for it cocked its head and regarding her eye to eye ere it shifted its beady gaze to Helluin and recited all the songs she had long ago taught its sire. It seemed that through many generations of eggs, the birdsongs of Valinor had been passed down verbatim.

Helluin listened to the recital, nodded in approval and prepared to teach the bird another tune, but it flew up onto a nearby branch on the southern side of the clearing they were sitting in. She and Beinvír had been taking their ease, enjoying the afternoon sunlight that dappled through the canopy of fresh green leaves, and admiring the hypnotic dancing rhythms of the breeze thusly made visible. They were in central Greenwood, roughly even north-south with the confluence of the Gladden River and Anduin, and about 35 leagues to Anduin's east.

The bird stared down at the Elves, recited for a second timeits songs, and then flitted yet again a short distance south. There it stopped and stared back at them hopefully. When they simply stared back, it abandoned its perch and flew to their clearing, circling it twice at head level and producing a raucous scolding ere it returned to the branch on the south side. There it repeated for a third time its songs.

"'Tis clear enough it wants us to follow," Beinvír said with a sigh, "and here I was so comfortable." She rose to her feet. Helluin followed, picking up their travel bags.

"Wither doth thou lead us?" The Noldo asked. The mockingbird extended a wing pointing south, and then flitted again a short distance in that direction. "Thou art welcome to speak thy message plain, O Bird of Many Tongues," she added.

The mockingbird answered with a cacophony of various calls, all gibberish to the Elves' ears. It stared at them and bobbed its tail and head.

"It hath rhyme, but not reason," Beinvír said, appraising the bird's words. "Perhaps 'tis confused by a head filled with too many songs?"

"Perhaps 'tis the child of an addled egg," Helluin suggested less charitably as she followed the bird's flight south.

The mockingbird proved a relentless guide. Day after day they followed its chattering flight, and ever it led them south-southwest. After waking them at dawn, leading them hence through the morn, and stopping to groom its feathers at noon while they supped, it would then continue on till dusk. Upon the wing would it snatch its meals, taking flying insects unawares, and so it seemed to have little patience for the ellith's mealtimes, oft scolding them when they tarried in a glen to cook.

"A curse upon thy haste, O Beaky One," Beinvír chaffed one evening, "we hath followed thee thirty leagues. Pray grant us a moment's peace. Not upon bugs as thou does't can we sup." The mockingbird scolded the Green Elf more vigorously still.

"Indeed; still thy blathering at once," Helluin ordered, "else thou shalt adorn this night's pot thyself." She made as if to reach for the Sarchram.

The bird stilled its chatter grudgingly, puffed up its feathers in obvious indignation, and then glared at the Elves ere setting its head 'neath its wing for the night as darkness fell. In restitution, it roused them at the first rumor of Anor's rising. With groans and shaking heads, Helluin and Beinvír followed yet again.

Mercifully it seemed, their journey ended two days later. By then 'twas obvious to them that they were being led to Laiquadol, and sure enough, their feet trod the path to Oldbark's hall as the evening came down on 22 Gwirith, (April 22nd). There stood Oldbark and another Onod named Soursap. The mockingbird recited its songs one last time, seeming well pleased with itself ere it took its leave.

"Um-hmmmm, 'tis the two wandering Elves at last," Oldbark said. "I see you have successfully followed my herald hither. Very good. Now do come inside. There is some news you should hear."

"Helluin and Beinvír followed the Onod's beckoning gesture and passed within his wooded hall. They saw that all there was as it had been on their last visit; the encircling wood was as dense as ever, the enchanted stream glowed faintly in the gathering gloom, and the upper heights of Laiquadol were thick with healthy green.

The two Enyd turned to face the Elves and set their "toes" in the edge of the stream. Oldbark gave Helluin a glance that she knew portended a serious conversation. She gestured Beinvír to sit with her. Helluin had no intention of standing through a talk that might last several days. After pulling out ground clothes and making themselves comfortable, the two ellith gave the Enyd their full attention.

"Now word has come to me of some changes in the world beyond the wood," he began, "and while such is not really my business, still I keep my ears open. Soursap here has come from Fangorn bearing word from yet further south."

The Elves looked at the other Onod and Oldbark paused. Neither Helluin nor Beinvír had really thought of the Onodrim trekking from forest to forest and crossing the lands between. Though there was no reason not to accept it, the thought had simply never been considered.

"Now the reason I summoned you to Laiquadol is that Soursap's tidings concern the kindreds of Elves and Men, and so they may mean more to you than to me," Oldbark said. He nodded to the other Onod, bidding him speak.

Soursap drew himself up and cleared his throat ere he began. He presented his tidings in a manner reminiscent of a young ellon charged to recite his lessons before his tutor, for he stood upright and still, absent body gestures and all but the minimum of facial expressions. He even held his "hands" behind his back.

"Upon the 28th day of Gwaeron, (March 28th), that being 26 days past, the whisper of the trees spoke to our lord Fangorn, bearing tidings from the coastal realm of Belfalas. It was declared that King Lenwe, long upon Middle Earth, had finally taken ship into the Blessed West, for he was at last able to commit the rule of his diminishing realm to others he deemed noble. With him went many of his folk and household; indeed, so many that their sailing comprised a fleet of 37 grey ships, all laden with Falathrim."

Helluin was amazed. She hadn't visited that land since late 1125, when she had met Falmandil and taken word of her first sighting of Mordor to Númenor. 722 years, Helluin realized…longer than the entire First Age. And it had been well 'nigh 1,250 years since she had been to the capitol city and visited the king's court.

So Edhellond now lay depopulated and bereft of its lord, she thought. Lenwe had gone across the sea at last. She recalled the old Nando fondly, for he had shown her kindness and demonstrated a daring and inquisitive spirit. And for her, that visit had led to so much more; in _Aearben_, a ship of Belfalas, she had met Veantur and sailed upon _Entulessë_. It had been her first trip to Númenor and the beginning of the marriage from which had come her only child. She smiled wistfully at the memories, and then noted Soursap eyeing her covertly and delaying the continuation of his report. She collected herself and gave him a nod to continue.

"King Lenwe only relinquished his rule after the remnant of his people declared their willingness to accept as their lord and lady, Celeborn son of Galadhon, Prince of Doriath, and Galadriel of the Noldor, Princess of the House of Finarfin."

Noting the jaw-dropped, blank-faced stares on the faces of his two listeners, Soursap again paused in his delivery. Helluin even managed to produce a soft gasp of surprise.

"Arriving with them in the year 1802 came their daughter, Celebrian, beloved of Elrond Peredhel," Soursap added, almost, it seemed, for shock value.

It was the first Helluin or Beinvír had heard of the budding relationship of their old friend. To his credit, the Onod betrayed nothing, not even allowing himself the merest hint of a smirk at their astonishment. Rather, he remained silent as the two ellith recovered and gazed into each others' eyes in silent communication.

_How came this to pass, I wonder,_ Helluin asked,_ for never were either of them great wanderers? What put into their heads the notion to come thus to the sea so far from both Imladris and Lórinand? Did Amdír tire of hosting them perhaps?_

_Perhaps they sought a land untouched by the war, _Beinvír speculated in response,_ or perchance the sea longing came upon them? Surely Galadriel yet longs for the Undying Lands of her birth and Celeborn to see them and his Telerin kin? For all we know, they could hath been sent thither by the council._ She shrugged.

_True…we know all too little yet of their counsels to make sense of their reasoning. I know that long ago Galadriel sought to rule a realm of her own. It seems that she hath now inherited one, if only one bereft of populace. Yet still strange to me it seems for them to hath wandered so far, especially Celebrian, if indeed she loves Elrond._

_Perhaps there is more,_ Beinvír said,_ the world is wide and more than Celeborn and Galadriel act within the Circles of Arda._

To this Helluin nodded, and the two broke their contact to again shift their attention to Soursap. Almost, the Onod appeared to have been waiting for them to harken to him.

"From the south coast comes yet further word," he declared, and Helluin rolled her eyes. "At the havens of the Númenóreans upon Umbar are great works of stone begun, for that settlement is now being raised as a fortress with wall and sturdy gate, as if in preparation for war. Lond Daer too is reinforced. Word comes that since the war, the Men of Westernesse have become more stern of bearing, and their search for resources upon the Hither Shores is no longer for timber only. Now they seek metals and other sources of wealth, and they spend ever less time in aiding their kin east of the sea. Between the Dúnedain and other Men a darkening has taken hold, and those of Middle Earth perceive as less benign the presence of these mariners now than aforetime. Indeed it seems they are increasingly resented and in many places, even feared."

Now this news was disturbing to Helluin and Beinvír, not merely surprising as had been the words spoken aforetime. Indeed, they were hard pressed to believe it. In the past, the Men of Númenor had come amongst their sundered kin upon the Hither Shores with aid, and they had taken back to their island little more than timber for to build their ships and stories to enrich their lore. Yet now 'twas said they came seeking wealth to enrich their treasuries and conducted themselves more as prospectors? And in response, the Men in Mortal Lands had come to hold their presence less a blessing?

Helluin knew the strength of Númenor. She had seen it during the war and suspected that it had grown yet greater since. The Men of Westernesse could long before hath subjugated their hither cousins had they taken it upon themselves to do so, yet never before had they seen themselves as lords o'er their kin in Middle Earth. What could have changed them, Helluin wondered, and how far would the changes go? She was skeptical by reflex and searched her memory for some clue.

Ciryatur had been ever faithful to the cause of defeating their Enemy. He had been both a great warrior and an able commander, but also, he had been a noble Man. Helluin had come to know enough of his mind to doubt that one such as he would seek to enrich himself at the expense of other free people. The sea captains she had known in the past, Veantur, Falmandil, Ciryandur, and even Baragund of his Queen's Navy had in them not the desires of treasure hunters or conquerors. Their kings and queens, even Tar-Ancalime with all her self-concern and disregard for others, had never evinced any designs upon Middle Earth. Helluin reviewed her memories carefully. In the end, she could find only one that she felt disturbing.

In 1601, she and Beinvír had come in embassy to the court of Tar-Telperien the Queen. In Armenelos they had met the Queen's Heir, Minastir, Veantur's latter day look alike, and from him, Helluin had sensed some envy for the eternal Life of the Eldar. She remembered feeling that here was one subtly displeased with his lot, who yearned for a fate beyond his kind. Yet Tar-Minastir had ever devoted himself to aiding the Eldar and the free people of Middle Earth. At his behest the Númenóreans had practically rebuilt their navy in five years, and he had dispatched Ciryatur at once to save Lindon and all the Elven folk during the long-awaited war. He was a noble leader, a proven _elvellon_**¹**, and a good Man.Helluin wondered if he had made peace with his impossible desires, or if of them, some shadow had come to darken his spirit. She dearly hoped that such was not so, for where a king led his subjects would follow, and as a father to his children, his life was an example to his people.

**¹**(**_elvellon,_ elf-friend. **Sindarin)

The desires of Tar-Minastir, balanced against his later faithful performance and all the prior history of the Men of Westernesse left Helluin doubtful that such a change could hath come o'er that folk. Yet whyfore would Soursap's tidings be false? She could only suspect that, having come of the whispers of trees, perchance they reflected the olvar's resentment of the Númenóreans' cutting of timber. They had done damage aforetime to the forests of Enedwaith. She could not accept the Onod's tidings outright.

"For myself I should see such change if indeed it hast come to pass," she said.

"Such as I know of the Dúnedain cast into doubt these reports for me as well," Beinvír agreed. "Shalt we seek confirmation of them with our own eyes?"

"Ere I believe in the avarice of Númenor I must," Helluin answered. "Ever hath that noble kindred been free of the Shadow. I shalt not believe untested that they art tainted."

"Then we shalt make our way hence to Lindon?"

"Nay, my friend. We shalt seek out an abode of Men, not their guest-quarters amongst the Noldor. We shalt go south, to Umbar."

Beinvír nodded her agreement and Helluin turned back to the Enyd.

"Many thanks I doth offer for thy summons and thy tidings. Indeed of great interest they hath proven," she said. "Yet some doubts hath I in light of past knowledge, and so I must seek after the truth of this matter. On the morrow we shalt make our way south down Anduin."

Oldbark and Soursap nodded to the ellith as they bowed to their hosts. Helluin's reaction was as they'd expected. Perhaps with her reputation and esteemed position she could influence those mortals somewhat for the benefit of all.

Soursap looked up at the dark, night sky and muttered, "Feels like rain…tomorrow or perhaps the next day."

**To Be Continued**

11


	46. In An Age Before Chapter 46

**In An Age Before – Part 46

* * *

**

**Chapter Thirty-two**

_**The Havens of Umbar – The Second Age of the Sun**_

30 Gwirith, (April 30th), was a day much like each of the past seven; chilly for the season and pouring rain. Helluin was grumbling and Beinvír was stoic and silent. The Green Elf stared out from 'neath the hood of her cloak as the drops pummeled the fields all about them. Off to their left to the west, Beinvír could still hear the swollen flood of Anduin in her mind's ear, carrying away an astonishing array of flotsam and gnawing at its banks. Watching the torrent earlier had grown uncomfortable for her and she was thankful that their path now lay some leagues inland from it. She felt sorry for the fish and sorry for the ducks.

They had made about 55 leagues since leaving Laiquadol on the 23rd, and now they were some 30 leagues from Greenwood, just south of the eastward thrust of the downs and the Brown Lands. The scenery was monotonous and another 60 leagues of the same lay ahead ere they came to the even less picturesque lands north of the Cirith Gorgor that led into Udûn. O'erhead the weather was monotonous too, with grey skies from horizon to horizon. It seemed the days to come would bring no change in the steady, drenching rain.

"_Feels like rain…tomorrow or perhaps the next day,_"Helluin griped under her breath, recounting the words of the Onod, Soursap. "Would that he had said, 'feels like rain tomorrow and everyday', and I should owe him some measure of respect for his seership. Then I should be a happy Elf…Oh, tra-la-la," she muttered.

Beside her, Beinvír rolled her eyes. She could well imagine that such a drenching meant 'naught to the Onodrim, bringing neither discomfort nor displeasure. _'Tis the olvar's revenge_, she thought, _I am sure they revel in it, for 'tis naught but water, their favored draught_._ Well, sooner or later even they would miss the sun._ In the meantime, she wondered after the condition of the swamps that Helluin had mentioned lay ahead.

By 9 Lothron, (May 9th), the weather had changed not a wit and the two Elves were beyond the verges of ill-humor. Not only were they soaked in all respects, but steeped in mud as well. Thoughts of a dry bedroll and a campfire seemed like hopeless dreams of riches beyond the wealth of Tirion the Fair and no less a magick than what a Vala might conjure. To escape their depressing circumstances they had walked for days, half awake and half in the realm of memory, seeing their surroundings with phantasmal vision and passing the miles suppressing the full attentiveness of their minds. Yet now even that respite had ended.

Helluin and Beinvír slogged forward in stealth, so much as was possible, fully aware of their surroundings, for they had come within eight leagues of the Cirith Gorgor and the gateway to Mordor. Each knew that her own eyes would hath marked their progress with ease from the heights of the Ered Lithui or the Ephel Duath that stood dead ahead. And there was 'naught available for cover in that desolate terrain. They could only trust to the virtue of their Elven cloaks, now bespattered with mud and dark with water, to hide them from prying eyes.

"'Twas just our luck to find the marshes swollen and extending a good twelve leagues further south than aforetime," Helluin said in disgust, "for now upon Sauron's very doorstep must we tread."

"And 'twixt here and there lie all those mounds of what seems the furnace slag from a demon's foundry," Beinvír observed, "'Tis beyond ugly, and provides cover all too good for a forward detail of border guards. I should not be surprised to find Yrch popping up at our feet any moment."

"Indeed those foul heaps were not to be seen upon my last visit," Helluin replied. "It seems the Black Lord hast been improving his realm's inhospitability."

For an Elf, such a sight had an effect akin to the motion of waves begetting seasickness in a mortal. Such environments affected each individual to a varying extent. Her first sight of Mordor had left Helluin physically nauseous and disoriented for a fortnight afterwards.

"Helluin, this landscape is making me ill," Beinvír said through gritted teeth.

"I am sorry, my friend. There is naught to be done for it save to persevere. Traverse it we must ere we come to Ithilien and the way south 'neath the shoulders of the Ephel Duath. That too is a long way; 150 leagues the road runs ere we shalt see the last of those jagged peaks upon our left and find the flatland of Harad before us."

At this news, Beinvír groaned and asked, "And thence how far to Umbar?"

"Some ways further indeed, though the mileage I know not for certain. Only do I know that Umbar lies at the head of a sheltered bay, well south of the mouth of Anduin," Helluin hedged. "I hath never visited that land, knowing only of it such as hast been told to me aforetime by the Númenóreans."

'Twas another 550 miles and more from the border betwixt Ithilien and Near Harad to Umbar, but Helluin simply didn't have the heart to tell her friend that. So far, for all their dismal days of walking, they had come but a scant third of the way. She herself could only contemplate the next two or three fortnights of walking by gritting her teeth.

The rains finally abated as they passed into Ithilien on the night of 13 Lothron, (May 13th). Heavy skies persisted yet another two days. During that time the Elves couldn't refrain from looking hopefully at the sky and willing it to hold its fluids at bay. With the return of sunlight on the 16th, Helluin and Beinvír were able to dry their gear at last. A couple days later they found kindling and deadfall dry enough to make a campfire and cook food for the first time in o'er three weeks. Thereafter, as they walked the wooded land of Ithilien, they enjoyed fair weather with but a few brief showers. On 3 Nórui, (June 3rd), the Ephel Duath turned abruptly east and the endless scrublands of Harad stretched out before their feet.

Harad seemed a bleak monotony, being much like their earlier views east to Rhûn north of Mordor, save that now all was harshly lit with bright sunlight, whereas aforetime all had been dimmed by falling rain. The day's heat became oppressive, leaving them panting as they trudged mile after mile. At whiles Helluin thought a horse would hath been welcome; to be ridden until it succumbed of thirst, then eaten and its hide tanned to patch their boots. She shook her head and carefully watched Beinvír for signs of exhaustion.

Now Helluin had led them southwest after passing beyond the Ephel Duath, and on 19 Nórui they came 'nigh the seacoast at last. Here the heat was somewhat lessoned by breezes off the water and that was a blessing they oft thanked both Manwe and Ulmo for. Also they found now many streams emptying into the sea. Thus lack of fresh water was no longer a problem and they drank their fill at need. Thence down the coast they went, and they crossed the River Harnen on the 23rd. And at last, upon the 30th of Nórui, they spied the rising walls of Umbar, painted red in the setting sun. As they watched from just o'er the crest of a hill a quarter-mile inland, the long black evening shadows cast by the walls and towers of Umbar stretched across the land to the east until all blended in the deepening gloom of night.

"And so it seems Soursap spoke true of Umbar," Helluin remarked, "for surely those art to be strong fortifications, battlements, towers, and guarded gates abuilding."

"They shalt be strong works indeed," Beinvír agreed, "though long in the finishing I wager. In however long hath passed since their start, some parts of the walls hath risen but half the courses of those completed to their battlements. The towers art far from finished. Indeed only one rises high above the walls. I should say the Men of Westernesse shalt be long occupied in their works here."

Helluin nodded in agreement. There was much masonry left to erect. Still, never before had she seen the Númenóreans fortifying their havens on the Hither Shores. Yet it had perhaps been a reaction long in the coming. Helluin recalled the precautions of Falmandil and his officers, and they ashore in the friendly lands 'nigh Pelargir, way back in S.A. 1125 when she had reported on the Black Land. For the first time she had found the Dúnedain traveling the lands armed.

_"Helluin, thy words speak of dark days to come," Falmandil said gravely, "and yet they but make clear what we hath at times seen. See thou that now we come bearing swords? For many years such was not the case for we were received at all times with friendship. Yet of late on several occasions violence hast indeed been visited against our people, and this mostly to the south in the lands about our new haven at Umbar that is still abuilding. The days darken upon the Hither Shores, but not so dark did we deem them as thy words report."_

And now, after winning a war in which many of the defeated had come hence from these very lands, 'twas little wonder the Dúnedain felt the need of walls and arms upon the Hither Shores. The Haradrim had fought on Sauron's behalf and this was their homeland. And the Dúnedain were far from Númenor. Their building of fortifications signified nothing dark perhaps; indeed no more than prudence and safety would dictate. The location was a good one for those who came across the sea. 'Twas a fine harbor, and easily navigated from Romenna on a course due east-northeast.

In the darkening night Helluin noted the torches of sentries pacing upon the unfinished walls, and those of others roving beyond, making circuits of the havens in the stillness. The two Elves lit no fire, but lay down to take some rest staring up at the stars, and Helluin let herself fall into but a shallow repose. If the Dúnedain maintained such a careful vigil at night, she would not ignore the possibility of threats while camped beyond their patrols. Not for naught would the Númenóreans commit their efforts. There was obviously danger to be found in the wide lands of Harad and it would not take her unawares.

At dawn, 1 Cerveth, (July 1st), S.A. 1847, Helluin and Beinvír came down out of the hills to the east of Umbar and under the camouflage of their cloaks, walked the dirt track to within 25 yards of the eastern gate ere a sentry marked their presence.

"Halt thou, unknown wayfarers," he ordered as his fellow sentries moved to back him.

They had not drawn swords, but stood ready with the spears they carried. There were eight of them in all. Helluin and Beinvír came to a halt but cast back the hoods of the cloaks, allowing the Dúnedain to see their features.

"Thou art of the Eldar kindred," the leader of the guards said in surprise as the Men behind him began whispering amongst themselves, "name thyselves, I pray thee."

"I am Helluin, called also Maeg-mórmenel. With me is Beinvír, Laiquende of Eriador. We art known to thy people, indeed to thy sovereigns through many generations. We would hear tidings of Númenórë, and of Tar-Minastir the king."

For a moment the guard leader didn't answer, but both Elves could hear the increased muttering among the detail of sentries. Indeed they seemed mostly surprised. At last the leader of the guards elbowed his second and then glared at the others to silence them, and as a group they came forward to meet their visitors.

"Indeed thou art both well known in our homelands and amongst the Dúnedain thou hast renown," he said when his company stood before the two Elves. "We offer thee welcome to our havens of Umbar on behalf of King Tar-Minastir. The havens art commanded by Lord Tindomul, second son of the King's Heir, Prince Ciryatan. As thou art known, and indeed art related to our commander," he said, nodding to Helluin, "'tis but right that we accompany thee to his audience so that the lord may extend his welcome in person."

So saying, he and the company bowed to Helluin and Beinvír ere he gestured them forward through the gate. The guards formed an escort of four to each side of the Elves as they marched towards the most complete of the towers. Behind them, a second detail of guards took their station to complete their watch.

From the moment Helluin stepped in to the presence of Tindomul, Lord of the Havens of Umbar, she felt her skin crawling. There was indeed some shadow upon this son of Númenor. In form, he appeared much as the other Dúnedain, tall, dark-haired, grey-eyed, and well-knit in frame. But oft during their audience his lips curled in a sneer or a smirk, and there was a fell light in his eyes without discernable cause. He first regarded Helluin and Beinvír through narrowed lids 'neath furrowed brows, as if with resentment, then schooled his features to reflect a smile of welcome that reached not his eyes ere he offered them a nod of his head rather than even a shallow bow.

Helluin and Beinvír bowed to their host in return, noting that he stood not, but remained seated upon an elevated chair much like a throne. Both of them noted how young this commander was; indeed, Helluin marked that he was not yet of an age where aforetime even the command of a single ship would hath been committed to him. _He strikes me as a third mate who hath usurped the captaincy by playing upon the names of his father and grandfather,_ she thought, _a brat he is, and a spoiled one at that._

Tindomul was but 27 years of age, forward and willful, and already popular in some influential circles at home. Knowing that save by mischance he would never sit on the throne of Númenor, and being indeed devoted and faithful to his elder brother Atanamir, he had ever sought to attain renown in his brother's eyes and glory in his own name. Amongst the contingent who sought riches and power in Middle Earth, which was headed by his father Ciryatan, the King's Heir, Tindomul had been both vocal and zealous. And while his older brother was oft constrained to Armenelos by his role as heir to his father, Tindomul came to the Hither Shores in his stead.

Even as a boy he had been enamoured of adventure and his dreams had grown to include the wresting of wealth from foreign lands. Since his teens he had sailed thither, and though still unqualified for captaincy, he was no stranger to the sea or the havens…or to ambition. Indeed in his restlessness and love of sailing he followed closely in the footsteps of his father Ciryatan, who had been a great captain in his own younger days. Thus in the last year and with their father's approval, Tindomul's elder brother Atanamir had prevailed upon their grandfather the king to gain the appointment for Tindomul as commander of the Havens of Umbar. Atanamir thereby gained a loyal proxy to seek treasures and extend the influence of the Dúnedain. With the same act, he had indebted Tindomul and cemented his younger brother's fealty.

Now Tindomul was young enough to accept unquestioned the values he had learned of his father and elder brother, and he had opened his heart to the call of wealth and power. Yet he was old enough to know the taste of both and to feed his desire for more. From his grandfather the king, he had inherited the influential position of his family and a deep-seated yearning for a station greater than the scheme of Arda had accorded him. With his elders, he had partaken of the yearning Minastir felt for the Life of the Eldar, but unlike Minastir, his elders had rejected the king's dreams of what was set beyond their grasp, favoring instead that which they could hold in their hands; wondrous works of craft, fine fabrics, rare wines, delicacies for their tables, gold, gems, cunning arms, and power. For Minastir, that yearning had been unrequited, yet he had retained the nobility of the kings of old. For his son and his grandsons the yearning had found gratification in a surrogate and by that choice was all the future dimming and the downfall of their people sealed.

"Greetings, Lord Tindomul, Commander of the Havens of Umbar," Helluin said as she straightened from her bow.

"Greetings, O scion of the noble House of Kings," Beinvír said. "We art honored to be received by thee and by thy people."

"Hail and well met, renowned warriors and enemies of Sauron," Tindomul replied. "Thy deeds in the past war art held in awe across the sea. Many art the tales and much lore I heard in childhood extolling thy prowess. Gladly do I greet thee, and indeed would make of thee a request."

Here, Helluin raised an eyebrow in question and gave a nod, bidding the Lord of Umbar continue. She had not failed to mark that all his praise had to do with war.

"Since my youth I hath trained 'neath the sword masters of Armenelos, ever seeking to refine my skills," Tindomul said, his eyes taking on an almost feverish glint, "yet even the greatest of them defer to that which they saw in battle aforetime; the black sword wielded in thy hand at Baranduin and Gwathir. I pray thee do me the honor of a session of instruction, that I might see firsthand such proficiency as none of mortal blood may attain." The last was said with a trace of bitterness but partially concealed.

Though his words sounded fair, Helluin was immediately on guard. She had felt the challenge in Tindomul's speech, for his cadence and expression had been insincere. 'Twas obvious to her that this second son of the King's Heir bethought himself grander than his years and experience warranted. The skills he could hath achieved in his training would be scarce what she had taught Beinvír in the first months after the Green Elf had taken up the short sword. She doubted if the techniques she could convey would even be perceived, let alone learned. Still, as a guest she could hardly refuse such a graciously worded request from her host, and so she bowed her acceptance.

"If 'tis truly thy desire, then gladly shalt I share with thee such as I hath learned of the battle arts in the last 6,000 years."

Upon that day, Helluin was already 6,363 years of the sun in age. Her own first lessons had come from Eönwë and the Maiar of Tulkas in Blessed Aman.

Tindomul nodded and a grin shaped his lips, but it held a twist native to his nature that he marked not. Indeed he was displeased that Helluin was flaunting her eternal life and the length of her battle experience. Resentment born of jealousy for the Life of the Eldar was a reaction that had become second nature to him.

"In that case, we shalt meet in the courtyard thither after the evening meal," he said, indicating a smoothly paved quad that was visible beyond the east window of the hall. "Would such a time give thee ample space to rest from thy journey? The evening hour is still well lit and the heat less oppressive."

Again Helluin merely nodded her acceptance of her host's desire. She had fought in daylight, twilight, full darkness, summer's heat, spring rain, winter chill, and 'neath the roots of mountains. She had slain her enemies under conditions this Man could not endure.

"Excellent," Tindomul said with a wide smile lighting his face.

Beinvír noted that when smiling, Tindomul resembled a _limb nagoron_**¹**.

**¹**(**Limb nagoron, _Great Biting Fish (Shark) _limb**(fish) + **_nago-_**(bite) + **_-or_**(agent) +**_-on_**(great in size or importance)Sindarin)

Thereafter the Lord of Umbar seemed to lose interest in his guests, and after some meaningless talk, he summoned a servant to convey them hence to the guest quarters and attend them. Though they knew it not the servant was a Man of Harad, sold into slavery in his youth but now middle aged, and long deprived of his tongue. He said not a word to either of them and directed them with gestures alone. He proved stoic to the point of facial paralysis. Indeed, he spared the two ellith so few expressions that they came to believe his features carved of wood and immobile. Even a tic would hath been welcomed. To their requests he assented with a nod. He was admirably attentive but completely disassociated from them, very nearly a ghost.

By the evening meal, Helluin and Beinvír were indeed refreshed. Partaking in their rooms of a noon meal followed by an afternoon of washing and lounging had done their spirits wonders. It had been months since they had taken their ease in comfortable surroundings. The same servant who had led them thither to the guest chambers came again at the seventh hour past noon to convey them hence to the Lord of Umbar's board.

The dinner was held in a great stone hall of many windows and columns, richly appointed, with tapestries adorning the walls and a cunning chandelier of crystals o'er head that flickered and gave birth to rainbows in the evening sunlight.

Upon the Lord's Table was draped a fine linen, embroidered with arabesques in many hues and bordered with gold. The serving platters and bowls were also of gold, as were the candelabras, (though as yet no candles burned), the pitchers, and the goblets. Heavy silverware, accompanied by lap cloths that matched the tablecloth, was set for each diner. The wealth of food at the Lord's Table was truly astonishing to the two Elves despite their familiarity with the Númenóreans' delight in feasting. At that meal they were confronted with more fare than they had consumed in the last month of their journey. Just the variety of loaves alone seemed a wonder of the baker's art.

Tindomul sat in a tall-backed chair at the table's head with his lieutenants upon either hand. Down each side of the table sat his officers. Helluin and Beinvír were seated across the table from each other, two places from the tables' head, having thus four officers and the Lord before them and another twenty-two Men down the table from them. They were close enough to partake of the Lord's conversation. Both noted that Tindomul offered neither a blessing o'er the food nor any thanks to Eru for their bounty ere they ate. He merely lifted his goblet and drank to signal the start of the meal. His Men followed him, heaping their plates and filling their goblets.

The two Elves spent a moment in silence ere they began, but this passed for the most part unnoticed by those around them, already engaged as they were in gorging. It did not, however, escape the attention of their host.

"Thou offer thanks to the One for thy vittles," he observed with a smile, "yet 'tis unto the hunters and farmers and vintners that we art more rightly indebted. Through their efforts is this table provisioned, for though indeed this Middle Earth was fashioned by the Spirits Undying, yet it hath become bountiful only through the efforts of Men."

"My Lord Tindomul, we hath seen this world through long Ages, and ever it hath provided for us, whether through the efforts of Men or Elves," Helluin replied. "We take it that such is only so by the grace of the One who hath created all for his Children."

The Lord of Umbar favored her with a smile, but she felt it insincere…a gesture expected more than heartfelt.

"We of finite years doth value the more the efforts of our brothers whose time pass'th all too quickly, for they, committing their lives thus to provide our sustenance, do indeed make a greater sacrifice of their precious days than hast the One whose labors art but a fraction from a life without beginning or end. We thank Him not the less, but rather the Men who work the land more."

"I marked not any words of thanks spoken from thy lips unto thy farmers, hunters, or vintners," observed Beinvír.

"Nor I any words of thine offered to Eru," Tindomul responded with a dark look.

"We speak not aloud to those not present," Beinvír said, "yet the words go out from our hearts for the One to hear."

"Then if thou can'st speak thus to Him, indeed offer a word on our behalf, for never hath our voices carried further than our ships, and both art banned from those Undying Lands in the West," the Lord of Umbar said with bitterness, "'Tis rather for we of mortal kind to do for ourselves and reap by our efforts what this life can offer."

"Doth thou forget the voyage of noble Earendil? He was a Man such as thou, and but for his voice, carried upon his blessed ship beyond the fences of Mortal Lands, would all hath long ago been 'neath the dominion of Morgoth," Helluin said. "Unto his words did the Valar harken, and to his plea did they respond. Mark me, O Lord of the Havens, thy voice doth carry beyond the margins of Arda. Eru harkens to the words of thy heart and thou art not alone."

To this, Tindomul gave silent reflection and his gaze was for a time drawn within. Yet finally he returned his glance to Helluin, and in it she saw his resolve. Not lightly or at a few words would he resign from his beliefs.

"Perhaps 'twas so in the Elder Days, Helluin. In the deeds of that time, lore declares, thou thyself had a hand. Yet since the passing of that time, many amongst my kindred deem that the ways of Arda hath changed, and that the Lords of the West hath become remote. We of mortal years discern that through our efforts only shalt good or ill be granted us. In the past war 'twas not the victory won by Men? 'Twas not the doom of that time decided by the toil and blood of our kindred? To us it hath become evident that in this Age our fate shalt be determined by our own hands; what passes in Middle Earth shalt be brought about by those in Middle Earth. We art thankful for the gifts once conferred upon us, but look not again for such a boon or succor, just as a Man who hath come of age must put off the support of childhood and find his own way."

"Yet even in thy manhood, still thankful to thy fathers should thou be," Helluin said.

"As indeed I am, for who but a father teaches his son the strength to order his days?"

Thereafter the topic was dropped and word turned to the doings of the company of Umbar. The tidings of the Hither Lands 'nigh the havens were reported. Ventures along the coast and expeditions into the interior were recounted. Some argued for establishment of a Númenórean haven at Pelargir upon Anduin, but this Tindomul would not allow deeming such an act presumptuous at present.

"Anduin is still the holding of the realm of Belfalas and shalt yet be for a while," he said, "though in future days perhaps this shalt change. Edhellond stands but sparsely populated and ever more of the Eldar take ship into the West. Already 'tis doubtful that they can hold their further precincts, and were we not yet in league of friendship with that land, quickly would we establish ourselves there. Yet such shalt come to pass, I deem, and much wealth come of it ere the years of our lives find their end."

About the table Men nodded in agreement with their lord. They expected Anduin to be ceded to Númenor ere they went to their final rest.

It became apparent to Helluin and Beinvír that these Men subscribed to a much changed view of the world and their place in it. Unlike their predecessors, they saw themselves as the sole masters of their fate, felt the Powers withdrawn from them, and expected reward for their efforts on their own behalf. The outcome of the war with Sauron had served to solidify their belief in their self-determination. _"To us it hath become evident that in this Age our fate shalt be determined by our own hands; what passes in Middle Earth shalt be brought about by those in Middle Earth."_

_Just so_, Helluin thought, _yet aforetime the one most like to thou in belief was Turin Turambar; master of his own fate, but ever fated by those above his place to fall. In thy words do I hear the echo of doom, O Tindomul, and I fear for thee and for thy people._

When the meal was finished, the lord and the Elves retired to prepare for the evening's activities, Tindomul with eagerness and Helluin with misgivings. Her suspicions, as it turned out, were well founded.

Tindomul was a better swordsman than Helluin had expected. He was quick, agile, and strong after his kind, and he had indeed been well trained in the fashion of the Dúnedain. Helluin would hath slain him in seconds had she not adjusted her movements. From ere the start Anguirél had thirsted for Tindomul's blood.

"Give me thy leave to slay this self-satisfied whelp, O Helluin," the black sword had requested while the Man had performed his warm-up exercises. "His youthful blood shalt be warm and sweet."

"Hush thou," Helluin had admonished, "his blood is kin to my own and not by my hand shalt he fall."

"Bah! He shalt prove thy enemy," Anguirél said with certainty.

"So be it," Helluin had replied, "but then 'twill be in battle that he shalt fall, not here."

"Thy words aforetime shalt prove true, and my own as well. Thy enemy shalt he be and not by thy hand shalt he fall at the last, though indeed in battle with thee he shalt die upon my blade."

For a moment Helluin regarded the Black Sword of Gondolin with curiosity, for Anguirél had not aforetime indulged in prophecy. Then she put aside her thoughts, for now Tindomul was ready and stood awaiting her.

"Show me thy skill," Helluin had ordered when the two met, and then they had clashed.

A heartbeat later they had drawn apart after the Dúnadan recoiled away from the Noldo. A glance showed Tindomul's tunic shorn straight across his chest without a scratch beneath. Helluin could hath eviscerated him had she extended her arm, but had instead calculated the stroke perfectly to hew only cloth. The next exchange lasted five strokes ere Helluin slapped the side of the lord's collar with the flat of her blade, showing clearly that she could hath hewn off his head. About them a gathering of officers gasped in amazement. Tindomul was not their best swordsman, but he was proficient and far from their worst. And 'twas apparent that he was far o'ermatched.

After five minutes of exchanges, during which time the second son of Ciryatan would hath died a dozen times, Tindomul was frustrated and Helluin was edgy. She could feel the rise of his wrath and the utter failing of his interest in any lesson she could teach. Ever he wielded his weapon with greater vigor and deadlier intent. 'Twas as she'd suspected. Their swordplay had taken on the o'ertones of a sparring match. In hopes of cooling his passions, Helluin sheathed her sword and faced him unarmed. At her nod he hewed at her and she evaded his every stroke. It only served to make him more furious. If the officers had been amazed aforetime, now they were awestruck. Beinvír stood amongst them shaking her head.

"Lord Tindomul, cease I pray thee," Helluin said, "for no point is there to continuing."

"Thou taunts me?" Tindomul hissed as he slashed wildly at her.

"Indeed not," she said. "But no value hath this exercise, for neither of us stands to learn aught from the other. We can each continue thus to no avail 'till nightfall. Why bother?"

But Tindomul harkened not to her words. Rather he continued slashing with increasing rage and failing control. Helluin continued slipping aside, reading aforetime his intent and evading his attacks. The Man began to sweat and his breathing grew labored in his exertion, yet his effort was rewarded with not even a touch. At last he leapt in the air, bringing down his blade in a mighty o'erhead stroke aimed directly at Helluin's head. Helluin stood her ground as he came down upon her and then too quick for mortal eyes to follow, she swept her forearm up and outwards against his blade.

O'er 1,200 years before, Gneiss son of Gnoss had forged in his smithy deep in Khazad-dum, the plates and mail that Helluin had worn ever since, and he had forged that work of _mithril_. Though o'erlain with black galvorn and looking like 'naught but steel, Helluin's armor was unbreachable by blade or dart. Only rarely had any weapon touched her in combat and never had any bitten upon her flesh. Now when she snapped her forearm up to deflect Tindomul's blade, the _mithril_ vambrace of the Dwarves met the sword steel of Númenor and the blade shattered in an explosion shards. One such raked a gash open across Tindomul's cheek.

The Lord of Umbar stood looking in surprise at the shorn hilt in his hand, a small trail of blood trickling down his face. For a moment none moved. Then an officer gasped.

"My Lord, thou art injured!"

And Tindomul, feeling the wound and its flow, raised his hand thither and his fingers came away blooded. In that moment the frustration of the sparring ignited the long abiding resentment he had ever felt against the Eldar. His jealousy for their eternal life, for their matchless prowess, and for their condescending ways prompted him to rage. He flung away the broken hilt-shard.

"Seize them!" He snarled. "With thy Elvish trickery hast thou drawn the blood of a lord of the royal house of Númenor. For this offense shalt thou answer!"

In a heartbeat the officers moved to heed their lord's order, encircling the Elves as Beinvír hastened to Helluin's side. Swords were drawn and the Men nervously advanced. Helluin would stand for none of it, not even to humor them. Too quick for their eyes to follow, she drew Anguirél with her right hand and the Sarchram with her left. Her eyes were cold and hard as chips of sapphire.

"Stand ye fast Men of Númenor, for I shalt surely slay thee if thou lay hands upon us." And as the Men watched, blue fire was kindled in Helluin's eyes…battlefire.

"Seize them, I command thee!" Tindomul ordered. "Hast none of thee the courage to do thy lord's will?"

The Men advanced an uncertain step. All knew the stories of the past war. Herein they were treading the thin ice of their mortality in boots of lead. The blue fire blazed in Helluin's eyes just as had been described in their lore. In a moment aught else of which they had heard was also manifest.

In the courtyard of Umbar the gathering gloom of evening was repulsed. There flared a light of silver and gold. The shadows of the encircling Men leapt against the surrounding walls, surging to life as an aura of brilliance flared about the figures of the two Elves. In reaction, the Men shaded their eyes, horrified by the display of power.

Helluin and Beinvír moved forward quickly. With a single stroke Helluin swept aside the blades of two officers who stood before her, for they wavered, uncertain against her advance. Their blades clattered to the ground and she shoved them bodily aside. Then she and Beinvír were running, back into the guest quarters, down a hall, the Dúnedain only hesitantly turning to follow. Beinvír snatched their bags on the run, and with them, their bows and quivers and her own short sword. They made the door, the guest hall behind them shot with leaping shafts of light and shadows cast harsh upon the walls. Shouts came from the courtyard; Tindomul ordering his soldiers to apprehend them. Yet the guards at the outer door fell back before them in terror and Helluin made for the gates of the havens unfought, blazing with the Light of Aman.

At the gate Helluin cast the Sarchram and it hewed free the bolt ere it returned to her hand. Then with a crash, she flung open the gates and into the deepening evening they fled, past sentries scattered by the flight of the Grave Wing who shielded their eyes and cowered back from the light. A furlong beyond the walls of Umbar, Helluin abruptly extinguished her corona, and then donning their Elven cloaks, the two disappeared into the gloaming.

Midnight came upon the northern track three and a half hours later. By then Helluin and Beinvír had put four leagues betwixt themselves and the havens as they'd hastened through the dark. They had not been pursued. Helluin was still seething at their treatment and Beinvír was saddened. She had been fond of Ciryandur and his crew, and Captain Mórfang she had thought noble.

"'Tis far worse than rampant tree cutting now," Helluin said. "If such as Tindomul shalt indeed rule in Númenor, then swiftly shalt the Eldar find themselves facing enemies more fell than the hosts of Mordor. I cannot believe that such a one is a grandson of Minastir!"

"I wonder if indeed the king knows what passes in the Hither Lands," Beinvír asked, "or if he is ignorant of his grandson's mind?"

"I find I care not," Helluin chaffed, "for 'tis the duty of a king to govern those granted power 'neath him. Tar-Minastir hath no excuse. His Heir Ciryatan hath no excuse."

"Think thou that both hath been betrayed by Atanamir and Tindomul?"

To this Helluin groaned. Short of sailing to Númenor there was no way for her to know. But Tar-Minastir had disappointed her and Ciryatan she knew not. Atanamir in his turn would sit upon the throne of Westernesse. Tindomul would most likely become his Captain-Admiral. And both would rule their people with resentment of the Eldar and disregard for the Valar guiding their hearts while they turned their energies to amassing treasure. She shook her head in amazement. How could such hath come to pass?

"Would that thou had given me leave to take his life this day," Anguirél muttered in her sheath.

After a while, Helluin silently nodded in agreement.

"Would that I had," she whispered.

**To Be Continued**


	47. In An Age Before Chapter 47

**In An Age Before – Part 47****

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**Chapter Thirty-three**

_**Edhellond in Belfalas – The Second Age of the Sun**_

Having aught else for a destination, Helluin and Beinvír made their way north and then west along the coast, and by that path came at last to Edhellond, haven of the land of Belfalas. During their trek they oft spied a variety of craft upon the waters, fishing boats mostly, but rarely the greater ships of Númenor, and once even a Nandor vessel much like _Aearben_ in which Helluin had sailed in S.A. 600. And as had that earlier vessel, this one too was headed into the west.

The coast grew busier once they passed the mouths of Anduin, for here were the long established fishing villages and lesser port towns that had grown up during the long reign of King Lenwe. Here too, ships of Númenor had been wont to call at times, proffering aid to the Men of the Hither Shores o'er the last 1200 years.

Now though, this seemed to be changing. More than once the two Elves heard comments from fisher folk giving voice to the growing resentment of the Dúnedain and their newfound quest for riches. This was shocking to Helluin and but reinforced her impressions from Umbar, and such additional proof left her saddened. The love of exploration of Veantur's time and the noble spirit of concern for their brothers of Falmandil's generation seemed to hath waned with the victory their might had achieved during the last war. And having brought about the downfall of a great enemy by their strength of arms, the new generation sought some reward in the following time of peace their fathers had bought.

When Helluin and Beinvír at last reached Edhellond, on 13 Urui, (August 13th), S.A. 1847, Helluin noted that much had changed since her last visit in 597. For one thing, in the past, never would they hath been at leave to wander the coast for well 'nigh three weeks without being greeted or questioned by soldiers of the king. Now, though the roads seemed safe and the laws maintained, no sign of the ruler's sovereignty had they seen. 'Twas as though the civility and peace of the people and their country continued by inertia alone, both having been so long accustomed to order. Indeed Lenwe had been a good king, ruling Elves and Men to peace for 'nigh on 6,000 years.

On this day, the two ellith came within two furlongs of the city gate ere a company of eight sentries challenged them. These were Nandor, dressed as in days of yore in dark green tunics and trousers, and cloaks of a shade lighter green. The familiar device of a cresting wave was emblazoned upon their belt buckles and cloak broaches. They bore swords as of old, yet now Helluin saw they wore Sindarin mail 'neath their tunics. Four also bore spears, the other four bows and quivers. The company leader wore a small silver broach in the shape of paired trees upon the left breast his cloak, a Noldorin motif.

"Declare thyselves, travelers," the captain asked, "ye who come'th thus unheralded to Edhellond." There was neither wariness nor hostility in his tone, Helluin noted, and indeed it seemed for once the question was merely a question. The captain looked them over carefully, noting her black armor and their weapons and nodding to himself.

"I am Helluin of the Host of Finwe," she answered, "also called Maeg-mórmenel. With me is Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador. Indeed we art wanderers, having traveled far and long, and we seek rest for a time in thy lands."

"Thy names art known to us, Helluin and Beinvír," the captain said, "both from of old and from the present. I hath marked thy gear and thou art as tales say. Hast thou heard that King Lenwe at last took ship into the Blessed West and that a new lord and lady doth rule this land?"

"Indeed 'tis known to us, for word hast traveled upon the wind and by the whispers of trees, and tidings came to us in Greenwood ere we set out four months past," said Beinvír. "We hath heard that thou art now ruled by Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, who art known to us."

"Indeed so," the captain said, "and they hath told us ever to expect thee at some time, though they said not when. It seems they hath long accepted the inevitable eventuality of thy presence while knowing not its time. Nevertheless, thou hath the welcome of the lord and lady, and they hath left standing orders that thou should be conveyed to them upon thy arrival." Here he bowed to them and indicated they should follow his company towards the city.

Helluin found that little had changed in Edhellond o'er the last 1200 years, and she found that this comforted her. The wall and gate appeared just as they did in her memories. The wind still blew up the avenues from the harbor with a familiar whistled note. In the distance the tower of the citadel still rose above the pale limestone buildings she had seen on her first visit. If anything differed, 'twas that fewer folk now walked the curving streets.

Of course to Beinvír all was new and the Green Elf walked with wide eyes, her head swiveling to and fro, taking in all she could see. Here was the kingdom first established by her people ere any of the Quendi had found their way to Aman, and for the Nandor, Lenwe had been as Finwe was to Helluin's people, a founding father and first High King. He had raised Belfalas and Edhellond long ere Denethor had led her ancestors o'er the Ered Luin and into Beleriand to become the Laiquendi. Now at last she walked the streets of his ancient realm. Indeed, having lived in Eriador and journeyed to Lórinand, Greenwood, and now Belfalas, she was the first of her people to make her way to each of the existing Silvan Realms. Perhaps only Helluin, who had also set foot in Ossiriand in an Age before and had also met the Avari, could claim to be better traveled amongst the realms of the Moriquendi.

Soon enough they came to the tower that rose above the ancient keep and there at the door the sentries stood aside and the two spoke to the door warden declaring their names. As on her previous visit, the door warden requested her arms, and those of Beinvír as well, and they surrendered them with the usual dire warnings from Anguirél and the Sarchram. The door warden, still shuddering from the threats upon his life, held open the doors and bid them enter, announcing their names to the court within.

"Look carefully about thee as we walk to meet the lord and lady," Helluin whispered to Beinvír as they passed the threshold, "for King Lenwe crafted here a wonder of masonry depicting the sky as once it stood o'er Cuivienen which even I had not seen aforetime. 'Tis a marvel of our world."

But Beinvír needed no encouragement, for she had stopped still in mid-stride and stood frozen upon the dark floor staring upwards at the cunning craft of Belfalas. Far above, amidst arches and columns wrought in the forms of trees and branches, were set the stars of Varda and Aule in their first glory. Not only were their positions accurately depicted, as Helluin had noted aforetime, but too, colored glass had been implanted in some of the openings to color the sunlight to the hues of the kindled stars. After a time, Helluin gave her friend a soft nudge and nodded towards the dais at the far end of the hall and they resumed their stride.

Now Helluin noted that in the semi-circular apse 'neath the canopy there were now set side by side two thrones. Upon them, backed by the carved relief of waves cresting, sat Celeborn and Galadriel, and they rose to greet Helluin and Beinvír as they approached.

"Greetings and fair welcome to thee, my old friends," Celeborn said as a smile shaped his features. "I am thankful thou hath survived the war and art free again to travel as thou hast ever been wont to do. Much did I worry when thou left Imladris and Glorfindel knew not thy whereabouts when he met us upon the field."

"Hail and well met, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel," Helluin replied with a requisite bow of her head. "Thankful am I for thy welcome and glad am I to find thee both well."

"My thanks for thy welcome to thy wondrous hall," Beinvír said after bowing to the lord and lady. "I am sorry thou were worried by our leave taking. Surprised too were we to be called thus, yet none may but heed the summons of a Vala."

At her words Celeborn's eyes widened a fraction. Here was a matter for later discussion, for to be called thus to serve the Powers was very rare. Now he was curious.

Galadriel offered her welcome as well, and she they had not seen since ere the war. Indeed they had not seen her since leaving the couple with Oldbark at Laiquadol. She met the two ellith with a grin that could be described as a smirk, directed particularly at Helluin, whom she approached closely. They were now eye to eye with no disparity in height to be noticed.

"Greetings, Helluin and Beinvír," she said, "long indeed hath it been since last we shared company. To thee both I find owe many debts, not the least of which art thy efforts in the war that preserved the life of my husband, nor," and here she leaned close to whisper to Helluin, "I should say, for directing me thither to Laiquadol. I do note though, that my calculations were in error. I had intended to greet thee from a higher perspective rather than mere parity."

At Helluin's expression of consternation she chuckled and mirth lit her eyes with sincere joy. Somehow to the older Noldo, the princess seemed not only more rational than aforetime, but also possessed of a new found maturity and presence of mind. Was she actually poking fun at her previously held rivalry? Helluin could hardly believe it. For o'er 3,500 years Galadriel had resented her. Could that hath all changed with a mere increase in height? Yet Finarfin's daughter had ever been snippy in Aman, back when she was a handspan taller. Helluin shook her head in confusion. Now she was curious. Here too, it seemed, was a matter for later discussion.

That discussion proceeded o'er a private dinner in the royal family's dining room. There, about a cozy table of polished wood, Celeborn and Galadriel hosted Helluin and Beinvír. Attending also was their daughter, Celebrian. In the past Helluin had only met the younger princess and had never spent time in her company. Beinvír knew her only by sight from a brief introduction in Lórinand centuries before. Both travelers were curious about the daughter of the lord and lady. Indeed, all were curious about each other. It made for a lively meal and one far more enjoyable than that hosted in Umbar, though the fare was not nearly so grand.

"Helluin, ere aught else is spoken, I feel thou art due words of explanation from me," Galadriel said when they had been seated. Helluin gave the princess her attention and she continued. "From of old in Aman did I bear thee ill, and for no fault of thine, but rather such was born of my own jealousy. In my heart I believed that being a princess of the Noldor, none other, and particularly not a commoner so aloof, should incite so much the attentions of the host. I believed myself in conflict with thee, indeed in deficit to thy achievements, and in compensation, reveled in my greater height. To me such became disproportionately important, and when thou appeared increased thus so as to negate and then disadvantage me, I was wroth beyond reason." Here Galadriel paused and offered Helluin a smile, of equal parts chagrin and sympathy. For her part, Helluin merely gaped at the princess, even having heard aforetime her sentiments in Lórinand.

"Thou may think 'tis by my increase in height that I hath put aside my spat with thee, but such is far the lesser reason. Now as thou know, during the war Celeborn led a sortie against the Host of Sauron, passing with the Sindar of Lórinand to battle o'er the Caradhras Pass. I feared greatly for him, and when no word came year after year, even greater did my fear grow. It grew greater still when returned came the Nandor under Prince Amroth, citing their failure and the northward pursuit of my husband and Lord Elrond by the Glamhoth. In that time did I realize what was truly important, and finally let go of what was not.

Then in 1710 did I come at last to Imladris for the council, and in that time many tales did I hear of thy courageous stand against Sauron's forces…indeed to such acts as did preserve the lives of Celeborn and all those who found refuge at last in the Hidden Valley. So then in thanks did I hold thee and thy friend, and ever shalt I acknowledge my debt to thee. And this debt I do accept, without resentment and without reservation."

Helluin was struck speechless by Galadriel's words. Never in an Age had she expected such a turnabout. She was so shocked that when the Lady of Belfalas rose from her seat and came o'er to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, she sat frozen as one carven of stone. 'Twas long ere she could even manage to sputter, and longer still ere she could form words. Beinvír, Celeborn, and Celebrian sat watching with wide grins curling their lips. And so after well 'nigh 3,800 years of the sun, the antagonism between Helluin and Galadriel was laid at last to rest. Next, Celeborn sought to satisfy his curiosity.

"Beinvír, thou hath said a summons came unto thee and Helluin from the Valar in those days shortly following the war?" He asked, turning his attention to the Green Elf.

Beinvír swallowed the mouthful of wine she had taken and then composed her answer.

"Indeed so, Lord Celeborn," she said, "though 'twas but one Vala that doth appeared in a vision shared betwixt us." Here she glanced o'er at Helluin who had recovered for the most part from her exchange with Galadriel. Helluin nodded for her to continue while she sampled the breast of a braised squab marinated in yogurt and 31 spices.

"Thou shared a vision, truly?"

"'Twas the Lord Ulmo who came before us, and indeed we were visited by the same vision, for we saw it together," Beinvír said. "For my part, I was awestruck to silence, but Helluin spoke with the Blessed One, for He knew her from of old and had summoned her aforetime."

Celeborn raised his brows in amazement. Helluin had twice been called to errantry by the Vala Ulmo? To be called thus even once in a lifetime was a matter of legends from the Elder Days. The Lord of the Waters spoke but rarely to the Children of Iluvatar in the Hither Lands, and thence only to stay some great doom.

"To Avernien did He summon me to oppose the sons of Feanor and to buy time for the escape of Elwing and the Silmaril," Helluin stated as she chewed. At the surprised looks from Celeborn, Galadriel, and Celebrian, she added, "I am sure 'tis only my slaughter of Amrod and Amras that hath been recorded in the lore of those days. In all the days thou spent with Lord Elrond I am surprised he told thee not that tale." She shrugged. After a moment's silence, in which she gnawed the meat from the squab's drumstick, she added for Celebrian's benefit, "Too, I went thither afterwards in search of Maedhros and Maglor, to free the _Peredhil_ and avenge the slain of Avernien. Strangely, I wound up aiding them in battle and agreeing to their custody of Elrond and Elros. Well did they discharge that trust…until they became again stupid following the War of Wrath."

Celebrian nodded to the dark Noldo and sat for a time in silent contemplation of how Helluin had long ago touched the life of her beloved. Beinvír resumed then her narrative.

"The Lord Ulmo commanded us to Mithlond seeking one Captain Mórfang of Númenor, and thence to sail for Tol Morwen. There we aided the search of Anguirél for the body of her brother, and afterwards conveyed his remains thither, unto the Vanyar of Aman."

If her earlier tidings had surprised the others, these words struck them dumb. 'Twas a space ere any spoke, but finally Celeborn broke the silence.

"Anguirél hast long been thy sword, Helluin, and therefore if gender doth a blade claim, I reckon _her_ brother be none other than Anglachél. That sword I saw in days of yore, for that black blade came of Eol to Thingol, my lord, and later passed to Beleg and thence to Turin son of Hurin. Anglachél was a fell blade, or so said Melian, but none I know heard aught of intent or voice from that weapon."

"Anguirél too is a fell blade, possessed of a spirit and a voice," Helluin assured him.

The Lord of Belfalas nodded in acceptance of her statement. Such was not unheard of.

"Whyfore then would Ulmo command thee to bring forth the shards of Anglachél unto Aman?" Galadriel asked, for she felt a foreshadowing of the import of this matter.

"We believe that in our vision did Lord Ulmo confirm somewhat of that which hath ever been hidden," Beinvír claimed, "and that being the fate of even a single one of the Younger Kindred. Anglachél was to be reforged and returned to his master's hand, for at world's ending is to come a final battle and a reckoning. Upon that day Turin is to be champion."

Where aforetime the silences had been in reaction to surprise, now none spoke for their awe. And Helluin, recalling the sense of humor she'd discerned as mortal in an Age before, remembered the words of Tuor in Gondolin and recast them for Turin.

"'Tis dark work, but somebody hast to do it." She grinned and followed her words with a sip of wine.

"I wonder if Elrond knows aught of this?" Celebrian asked. "He would find it quite fascinating, I am sure."

"He hast become quite the loremaster," Celeborn added, nodding in agreement.

"'Tis true, and aforetime did he aid me with details to clarify the words of Lord Ulmo," Helluin said. "He hath absorbed great knowledge of history in his studies. Also a talented healer hast he become," she added, but she said no more of their battle afflictions. Little did Helluin relish spreading the account of her atrocities or Beinvír's near-fading.

"I hath always found him noble and wise," Beinvír said, "and he hath both a leader's strength and a father's compassion." She offered Celebrian a smile.

Her words of praise fairly made the younger princess glow. 'Twas obvious to all how highly Celebrian regarded Elrond. Galadriel smiled warmly at her daughter's reaction with love suffusing her eyes. Having seen her mostly haggard or cross, this expression was new to Helluin, who sat analyzing it and found it quite fitting to her fair features.

"Yes, a fine father he shalt make one day," Celeborn teased, bringing a blush to his daughter's face and a chuckle of his own in response.

"If ever he allows himself the opportunity," Galadriel added. At the questioning glances from Helluin and Beinvír she added, "At the White Council of 1710 was't he appointed Vice-Regent of Eriador atop being Lord of Imladris, and he feels now the weightier his responsibilities 'neath Gil-galad who hath himself never married. Elrond deems himself claimed first by his office and would see it settled ere he commits himself to marriage and a family."

"Bah," Helluin said, "ever shalt some cause for upset be found in Arda and 'naught that any of the Eldar can do shalt change that. Elrond shalt find himself ever unfinished of his task. In his own mind must he find a balance 'twixt his king and his beloved."

"I am sure he shalt come to just such a state…eventually," Celebrian said with a sigh. She glanced down uncertainly at her plate. "Gil-galad he regards as a father as much as a king and he is loath to disappoint him in any way. Indeed I understand this."

"I am sure Gil-galad would begrudge not his son such happiness," Helluin said.

"Hast Elrond stated what he thinks necessary for the ordering of his responsibilities?" Beinvír asked.

Celebrian looked up at them sadly. "He hast suggested 'naught less than the fall of Sauron, for only in this doth he sense peace and the security in which to raise a family."

"And yet well 'nigh all our folk were born in the time of Morgoth," Galadriel said, "and even unto Aman came danger and war and death."

"Aye, and in Arda Marred, ever shalt some discord arise," Helluin stated with certainty, "'tis its nature, presaged in the Ainur's Song. 'Tis true that peace may reign for a time, but security is an illusion at best…else worse, a delusion. 'Tis not a state absolute, but rather a quality found only in degrees."

"Perhaps with time his beliefs shalt change," Beinvír offered. She noted that none of the prior comments had served to ease at all the princess' sadness, and so she had tried a bit of optimistic sympathy. She was rewarded with a small smile from Celebrian.

"So do I hope," she replied, "for if all concerns of security were answered, yet still there is fate. One may be struck down unexpected even in the best guarded keep."

For Helluin and Beinvír, who had spent centuries wandering in and out of danger, a preoccupation with achieving the illusion of security in Arda seemed very strange indeed. Beinvír was more worried that the waiting would be worse for Celebrian's spirit than to enjoy her happiness in a home under siege. She recognized that Elrond's delay was postponing the present in favor of a hope for the future. It denied what was…their present love. She shook her head. For all his wisdom in lore and healing, she thought her friend Elrond favored a course fraught with folly.

Thereafter the diners conversed upon many topics and shared tidings of much that had passed in Middle Earth. Helluin and Beinvír appraised the monarchs of the mood of the Dúnedain of Umbar and indeed Celeborn and Galadriel were shocked that such a turn had come to pass. True they had marked the increased avariciousness of some captains, but the two travelers spoke of a dark path upon which the future leaders tread. 'Twas the first time known to them that Men of Westernesse had assaulted any of the Elder Children of Iluvatar, for in the past, ever had goodwill thrived between their kindreds.

Predictably Celeborn and Galadriel were upset. They were the rulers of a small seaside realm and Númenor ruled the waves. None were so mighty upon Belaeger. The notion of the might that had turned the tide of the last war standing against them was cause for quicker drinking and much worry for the future.

"They hath designs upon Anduin," Beinvír recalled from the dinner conversation at the table of Tindomul, "and at Pelargir would they establish a haven for their enrichment from the trade of the river."

"Yet for the time being, they withhold their hand from action," Helluin added, "for they see that in time thy influence upon the margins of thy realm shalt wane and their influence shalt peacefully replace it. They would both hath their cake and sup of it as well, obtaining their dominance o'er the river while retaining still for a while their friendship with the Eldar. Crafty and calculating do they deem their counsels, yet ever to their own gain they doth look."

"Alas, Anduin is subject to Belfalas more by tradition than aught else in these latter days," Celeborn admitted. "Scarcely art there even folk numerous enough to people the havens of Edhellond in these times. From Ethir Anduin upriver to Mindolluin's shadow art mostly the dwellings of Men. So it hast been since many of Lenwe's folk fled into the West during the war and in the years before and after."

Helluin and Beinvír nodded in understanding. Who could blame the Nandor of this country for fleeing the proximity of Sauron and his Black Land in time of war? Hosts of the enemy had marched past, and though they had been bound for the war in Eriador, still too easy it would hath seemed for them to simply turn south in the river's vale and march upon their homes. For millennia the people of Lenwe had known mostly peace. Only from the mariners of Cirdan and from Helluin herself long aforetime had they heard tell of the wars of Beleriand…and that lore had filled them with fear. Now Morgoth's Lieutenant had come in strength against the Eldar to their north. The days darkened, the years of terror of which they had heard were renewed, and in their collective imagination, their choices had been to flee Middle Earth or to endure the horrors Helluin had seen in the First Age. 'Twas little wonder they had left.

"They flee still do they not?" Helluin asked.

"A boatload now and a boatload then," Galadriel said, "and who can blame them? Sauron was not destroyed, only defeated. He shalt meditate ever upon conquest and yearn to promote our downfall. He is no doubt even now rebuilding his armies." Then her voice fell to a whisper and she added, "He hath still his One Ring. I am charged by the Council to continue in the care of one of the Three. And wherefore more unexpected for it to hide than upon the coast, so near seeming to his own realm and in a realm itself so weak? Yet here we hath come, knowing that the eyes of the Númenóreans and the folk of Anduin shalt be ever watchful…and here, if needs prove dire, we can'st escape by water to Lindon."

Helluin nodded. 'Twas a good ploy and well planned. Here the Elven Ring brought danger to but a few, and these least likely to perceive it or their added peril, for their existing peril was already great. And here, as Galadriel had said, escape was readily available.

"Yet now that which thy words report indeed leaves me uneasy," Galadriel said. Her voice broke Helluin from her musings and she harkened to the princess. "If we can no longer rely upon the goodwill of Númenor, our watch upon the Black Land is curtailed. The realm of Belfalas is in decline, and indeed shalt Men one day come to rule these lands. I would hath that stayed for yet a time, for these younger Men…Tindomul and his ilk, may prove untrustworthy at need.

I hate to dwell on doubts, Helluin, but those enamoured of wealth may fall the more easily to temptation, and ever was such weakness rewarded by Sauron. A boon he would reveal to those willing to accept it, and coming thence 'neath his sway in the taking, their loyalties fallen, then into his hands would their strength come. I trust not in these Men."

_And into Sauron's hands hath come the Nine,_ came the Lady's words to Helluin's mind.

Helluin marked Galadriel's words. She could not help but agree. At that moment, she wouldn't hath trusted Tindomul further than she could throw him…about two fathoms, give or take. And what if he were offered a Ring? He or any of those amongst his people who so craved wealth and power? She nodded to Galadriel to signify her agreement.

"Would that I had the strength to hold the Vale of Anduin yet a while," Galadriel said, looking Helluin in the eyes, "and with such strength keep a watch upon Mordor, for Sauron's power shalt rise again and I would hath a warning of it ere his troops assail us."

"Indeed all the Noldor look to that time with foreboding, for the doom of continued war was made in the hour of Sauron's defeat," Helluin said. Her anger rose uncontrollably as she remembered that day. "I felt it as I stood in his camp 'nigh Tharbad watching the dust rise behind his fleeing horses, for I had hastened thither even as the battle waned, seeking him for to take his head. He fled from me and made good his escape. But for a horse or a handful of minutes I should hath engaged him in single combat, that craven wretch. All would I hath gladly put to right in that hour had I but been fated the chance. Yet such was't granted me not." Helluin gritted her teeth and sat with jaw clenched, grim of face. She fell into a brooding silence, blue fire flickering in her eyes.

About her the others sat silent in awe. Not only had Helluin dared to come 'nigh the Enemy who had long filled all their people with dread, but had actually charged after him intent on slaying him, Maia though he was. Not since the High King Fingolfin had smote upon the gates of Angband in challenge of Morgoth had such an account of reckless courage been heard. It was all Beinvír could do to keep from being sick.

Galadriel sighed. Here was the strength to hold back both Men and Sauron…for a time. Yet Helluin was not her subject to command. She was a wanderer, and if any held her allegiance in Middle Earth 'twas Gil-galad, the High King and right sovereign of their people. Long ere Galadriel's birth in Aman, Helluin had followed the Host of Finwe, and now, after three Ages of the world and four High Kings, even Gil-galad's claim o'er her was questionable. He had well 'nigh refused her service during the war and had excluded her from the White Council after it. Though Galadriel, Celeborn, Elrond, and Glorfindel had all beseeched him to change his decision and send for her, he had kept his own counsel. Yet Helluin had ever been the enemy of the evil ones, and in this her purposes had concurred with the rest of the Noldor. No, Helluin was not subject to command by the House of Finarfin so long as the House of Fingolfin ruled the Host of Finwe in Middle Earth, but perhaps she could be moved with an appeal. Galadriel turned to her husband and engaged him silently in conversation for a few moments. At last he nodded to her in agreement. Beinvír watched them with growing apprehension.

"Helluin," Galadriel called in a soft voice, waiting until the dark head harkened to her. "Hath thou some duty to our king or some destination of thine own on thy road ahead?"

To these questions, Helluin sighed and shook her head 'no'.

"Woulds't thou consider, for a span of time of thine own choosing, to keep watch upon the lands to the east?" At her words both Helluin and Beinvír looked at her sharply in surprise. Beinvír was about to protest, but ere she could do so, Galadriel spoke again. "I would cede to thee a fief; all the lands of Belfalas from Ethir Anduin to Mindolluin, west of Anduin and east of the Gilrain. Thou and thy friend would be Lord and Lady of the lands of Lebennin…a realm of thine own and not subject to Belfalas. We cannot hold well those lands and would see them passed on to one well suited to defending them against both Númenor and Mordor." Celeborn nodded in accord with his wife's words.

Helluin and Beinvír could only gape at Galadriel in disbelief. She smiled at their shock. Helluin choked. She took one look at the horrified expression on the Green Elf's face and began shaking her head 'no'.

"I understand thy reluctance," Galadriel said turning to address Beinvír, "and yet I would that thou consider a moment what I hath offered. The land is wide and the uplands forested and for the most part free. Ever hast the population concentrated about the coast and alongside the rivers and in the lands 'nigh to them where tillage and travel art easiest. Yet more, a land's rulers need not stay ever in their realm. Even we travel." Here she turned to Celeborn and smiled.

Beinvír made no answer, but calmed her breathing. The Lady was persuasive. In truth, the lands Galadriel referred to were unknown to her save from distant sight. Helluin had seen much of them but that was long ago. More than anything though, the Green Elf was viscerally repulsed by the idea of being tied to one country, responsible for its people, and living 'nigh the land of the Enemy. She looked at Helluin and found her still recovering from her shock and as yet unable to make any decision.

"Just promise me that thou shalt give my proposal consideration," Galadriel said. "In all honesty I can think of no other who could so effectively order this realm at this time. I pray thee, think upon it. I can ask of thee no more than that, I suppose."

To Beinvír's horror, a still dazed Helluin nodded 'yes' to the princess' request. Thereafter the meal was governed mostly by silence. At its end Helluin and Beinvír retreated to their guest quarters. As they passed from the door of the dining hall, they o'erheard Celebrian admonishing her mother with, "I cannot believe thou did that!"

"I pray thee, tell me not that thou art actually considering the Lady's plea?" Beinvír asked in their room later that night just to be sure. When Helluin hesitated to answer immediately, she groaned. Indeed 'twas an uncomfortable silence as ruled ere the Noldo spoke.

"In truth I hath not thought upon it, for too deep in shock am I still," Helluin admitted at last. She hauled off her boots and dropped them on the floor. Moving much like a machine, she stripped off her armor and laid it o'er a wooden form made for that purpose. "I doubt I shalt be able to think at all ere the morn. Hither I came believing she was wroth with me as ever aforetime and yet now she offers me a fief and a title? Me? Thou? Such a course goes against all I hath done all my life, and yet I can see the necessity of it, may the Valar preserve me."

Beinvír regarded her with mouth agape. Anything but a complete refusal was beyond her ability to digest. With a sigh she looked out the window into the night and listened to the waves rolling in the distance upon the shore. The sea unsettled her…perhaps it unsettled all, skewing their counsels and rendering the less stable their wits. She chewed her lip in uncertainty. After some moments she looked back at Helluin, who was now dressed only in her shift and was easing herself back onto the mattress as if it were a bed of coals, completely preoccupied with some internal dialog.

_Oh this is not good…not good at all_, Beinvír thought, _and what horrors shalt the morn bring? Surely I shalt not rest for my fear and anticipation, and Helluin shalt not rest for her shock and indecision. Alas, we should hath stayed in Greenwood._

Indeed the night proved rest-less for both and the morn came all too quickly as 'tis wont to do at such times. Anor rose and brightened the room unmercifully. From the window came the sounds of a seaside city coming to life; the snap of canvas and the cries of gulls, sailors, and fish mongers. Beinvír raised herself on one arm and looked o'er at Helluin. The tall Noldo was lying flat on her back staring sightlessly at the ceiling, and the Green Elf noted that she was gritting her teeth and that her hands were clenched in fists. For her part, Helluin was still oblivious to the waking world. She was deeply enmeshed in conjectures and suppositions that had grown in the hours of darkness into a monstrous construct of projections in her head. Before her mind's eye played a tableau of scenarios hatched from answering Galadriel's offer either yea or nay. She was locked thus in phantasms of the future. Beinvír walked to the nightstand, and retrieving a ewer, returned to the bedside and dumped the contents o'er Helluin's head.

Helluin bolted upright, sputtering and blinking, and gasping for air. She swiped a hand across her eyes, flicking off the water, and then looked at her partner in surprise as if seeing her for the first time in weeks.

"Thou was't stuck," the Green Elf explained, "thy mind circling like a buzzard o'er a drought land ever searching for a well spring that exists not. Thy world was populated with but the dried carcasses of ideas and suspicions, I wager. No answer shalt thou find within that realm, my friend. Only by accepting a journey can'st thou come to its end."

Helluin blinked at her.

"Art thou saying that indeed I should accept Galadriel's offer?" Helluin asked.

"Nay, nay!" An alarmed Beinvír exclaimed. "I should beg thee to flee Edhellond at once and give no answer at all, for I greatly fear thou shalt be imprisoned by thy duties as were Celeborn and Galadriel in Eregion, or as is Gil-galad in Lindon and Elrond in Imladris, save that thou hast for a neighbor none other than Sauron. I can'st not think of a fate worse for thee. Reject that journey and escape its end!"

Helluin sat rubbing the dullness from her eyes with her fists and then shook herself vigorously like a wet hound. When she composed herself at last she glanced out the window ere returning her attention to her friend.

"Such as those thou mention make their own cage in the ordering of their realms. They create cities and courts therein to stifle themselves," Helluin reasoned, "and in no way art either necessary. 'Tis possible to manage a realm with neither court nor capitol, I deem. Indeed, I wonder if the subjects even need know that they art part of a realm at all?"

_Oh My God, she's going to do it,_ Beinvír's mind shrieked, _I recognize that tone…so reasonable at the start…she's convincing herself that such is possible. We shalt be here for centuries with Sauron upon the doorstep…I just know it. Oh joy!_

"…for the purposes Galadriel stated, a realm needs but a vigilant army, and even that not extensive in size…merely sufficient to repel brigands and lay claim of sovereignty…"

Beinvír stood listening to Helluin as she continued her exercise in self-persuasion. Her notions of the necessities of a realm were…unconventional…or more likely perhaps, to speak charitably, uninformed.

Wherefore had fled the wits of Galadriel and Celeborn, Beinvír wondered, to turn o'er thus to one asocial wanderer no less than half their realm? Could they hath picked a more unlikely ruler than a commoner disregarded as a menace by the king and court of her own people? Could they expect a peaceful reign from the one reckoned most violent amongst all the Noldor? Beinvír had to wonder just what the princess had against the folk of Lebennin. Even she herself had more experience of governing, having been long tutored with anecdotes in the company of Dálindir, the abdicated King of the Laiquendi.

"…and in civil matters, thou shalt aid me with thy wisdom." Helluin fell silent at last.

"Huh?" Beinvír asked, drawn hence from her ruminations by her partner's silence. She found Helluin staring intently at her as if awaiting an answer. The Green Elf focused her wandering attention and with a sinking feeling asked, "Pray repeat thy question?"

**To Be Continued**

13


	48. In An Age Before Chapter 48

**In An Age Before – Chapter 48

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**Chapter Thirty-four**

_**The Realm of Lebennin – The Second Age of the Sun**_

On 8 Cerveth, (July 8th), S.A. 1869 came word to Edhellond of the succession of Tar-Ciryatan to the throne of Númenor, for Tar-Minastir had passed to his son the scepter after ruling for 138 years. About the succession lay dark rumors of pressure exerted by the Heir in claiming the throne, but they were rumors only to those in the Mortal Lands.

These tidings came by way of a Captain-Venturer of Númenor who was known and welcomed in Belfalas, for in these days not all any longer were. Indeed many captains had no time or interest in meeting with the Eldar, for no treasure and little profit came of it. Increasingly, such visits were regarded as signifying deficiency of ambition and common sense in a captain and were resented by the crews as a waste of time. And so in the Hither Lands, many held their breath, awaiting what changes the succession might portend.

"Thou art dispatched forthwith unto the Realm of Lebennin, to bring these tidings to Lady Helluin and Lady Beinvír," Lady Galadriel told the errand riders that stood facing her in the courtyard before the keep in Edhellond.

The three ellyn bowed to their lady, but ere mounting one asked, "Whither shalt we find them, Lady Galadriel? Where in that land art they most likely to hold court?"

Galadriel scratched her head and tried to think. The two ruling ellith of her neighboring realm held no court and had established no capitol city. As ever, they wandered.

"Find thou any of their militia and explain thy mission. Thou shalt be conveyed hence."

The messenger could do 'naught but bow and mount, having received as much of an answer as his lady could provide. From other companies sent thither he had heard just such tales. It made an errand rider's task uncertain, and having no sure destination was something all messengers loathed.

For the next four days the three rode east toward Anduin, grumbling and hoping for the best. On the morning of the 12th they passed from Belfalas into Lebennin at Linhir 'nigh the combined mouth of the Gilrain and Serni, and there they were promptly stopped. A single ellon in a cloak of mixed grey-greens rose from the roadside and hailed them.

"Hail and well met errand riders of Belfalas, whither now doth thou ride?"

Indeed so abruptly and unexpected was his appearance before them that their horses shied and came to a prancing halt. He stood in the midst of the road and awaited their answer. They noted that 'neath his cloak he wore a tunic and trousers of the same colors, and 'neath that a shirt of black mail. A longsword was girt about his waist, a long dagger at his back, and o'er his shoulder a bow and quiver. The only token in all his gear was the broach clasping closed his cloak, and this was black metal in the shape of a ring bisected with an S-curve…the Sarchram.

"We art sent hither by Galadriel, Lady of Belfalas, bearing tidings to the rulers of this realm concerning Númenor," the lead messenger declared, "and I pray thee convey us thither."

The border guard, or so he appeared to be to the messengers moved not a muscle, but gave forth a piercing whistle. From the tall grass rose another dozen guards, bracketing the messengers of Belfalas on both sides of the road. Two came forth leading horses before their leader. A series of unfamiliar hand signs passed between them and the two riders nodded. One immediately mounted and rode east in haste. The second mounted and waited.

"Thou shalt accompany this rider east upon the road," the guard told the messengers, "and he shalt convey thee hence for the completion of thy errand. Farewell."

The guard stepped to the verge of the track and in another stride disappeared amidst the tall grass. When the messengers looked from where he had vanished, they found the other ten had disappeared as well. Before them the lone rider waited, still as a statue yet conveying a desire to proceed that felt akin to impatience. They coaxed their horses into motion with a few words and the rider moved forward as well. Indeed he kept two horse lengths ahead of them and set their pace at an unvarying canter.

For another two days they rode, and while the rider of Lebennin joined the messengers in their nightly camp, he rode ever ahead of them during the daylight. He spoke fair to them in the Sindarin tongue when he addressed them, and in raiment he appeared to be an ellon, but he was a mortal Man.

"Our captain alone is of Elven kind," he told them, "and he is as much instructor to us as commander. So it is nowadays throughout this land. Our rulers deem the strength of this country and the bounty to be protected both lie in the hands of Men. And so they teach and provide guidance, for in future days, so they say, Lebennin shalt be indeed a realm of Men." The messengers noted the hope and loyalty in his voice, for 'twas obvious he held his regents in high esteem.

'Twas indeed a bountiful land through which they traveled. Wide fields spread to either side of the road, and being high summer, these were green with well tended crops. Tall grain waved in a gentle breeze from the sea and plots of vegetables lay soaking up the light 'neath the sun. Inland there were orchards and vineyards, and beyond these the darker forests leading upslope to the mountains standing hazy in the distance. Sprinkled amongst the rolling hills and gentle slopes were villages and towns, and hamlets of Men. These appeared clean and well-ordered, tranquil and prosperous. The messengers were impressed with what they saw, for it evinced an increased vigor in comparison to the realm they had known but two decades aforetime. Yet they saw but few Elven folk and these invariably clad in cloaks of grey-greens. And one further thing did they notice; nowhere they rode did they mark the presence of troops, whether billeted or marching, drilling or deployed, yet ever was the road bordered by a furlong of tall grass or a wood, and ever they felt a careful watchfulness that spoke of safety.

"Wherefore hath gone the Eldar of this land?" One of the errand riders asked their guide at their camp the first night.

"Indeed they art here," he replied, "in numbers but somewhat greater than aforetime. We hath passed many this last day."

"Yet we saw them not."

"They hath taken up the habits and raiment of the folk of the Guardian Beinvír," he said, as if that made all else self-evident.

In the afternoon of the second day they came to Pelargir upon Anduin and there the soldier of Lebennin led the errand riders to a lodge on the outskirts of the town. Here they stabled their horses and were provided quarters in what they discovered, to their surprise, was a barracks of the troops.

The next morning they were summoned to a meeting chamber. They entered it and were bidden to seat themselves about a conference table. Barely had they seated themselves when the door opened again and two ellith entered, one unusually tall like their lady, the other somewhat short. Both were dressed as travelers, indeed attired much as the guards they had met, yet about the taller figure was an aura of shrouded light, and about the shorter a fugitive glimmer just to be detected. Both were unmistakable, the taller for her black hair, crackling blue eyes, and the mithril ring at her side, the shorter for her beauty and her accompaniment of the taller. The messengers rose and bowed.

"Thou bear hither tidings from the Realm of Belfalas?" Asked the taller elleth.

"Indeed so my Lady," the leader of the errand riders answered, "and we art to deliver them to the rulers of this realm by order of the Lady Galadriel."

"In that case, I pray thee speak and proceed with thy errand. I am Helluin of the Host of Finwe and my companion is Beinvír of the Laiquendi. We art the Chief Guardians of this realm."

The messenger nodded. Scant wonder they hadn't seen the Eldar of Lebennin if they had taken upon them the guise of Green Elves such as Beinvír. Even the Men they hadn't marked at their first meeting upon the road, for they too had been trained thus to stealth.

"Lady Helluin, Lady Beinvír, this message I was bidden speak to thee by Lady Galadriel in Edhellond seven days past. It hath been declared to her by a Captain-Venturer of Númenor who is an _elvellon_**¹, **that upon the Ré i Anaro of this year, did the King's Heir Ciryatan ascend the throne of Elros in Armenelos. He now rules Elenna after his father, Tar-Minastir, having taken the scepter in the name, Tar-Ciryatan."

**¹**(**Elvellon, _Elf-friend,_** sing Sindarin)

Neither ellith reacted to his words, for 'twas seemingly no news to them, yet they traded a glance between them and silent words were exchanged. Then Beinvír spoke to the messengers.

"Hath there been any word of Tar-Ciryatan's Heir, Atanamir, or of his second son, Tindomul?"

"Nay, Lady, no word hath reached our ears of them," the messenger said.

"I pray thee say thus to thy Lord and Lady," Helluin said. "Lebennin thanks thee for the prompt sharing of thy tidings of Númenor. We doth expect increased activity from the Dúnedain in sailings and the hastening of their search for wealth in the Hither Lands. Indeed since mid-year we hath marked 38 ships passing betwixt north and south upon the sea lanes off our shores…this compared to but 23 in the same weeks of the year past."

"Send also our good wishes to our friends, Celeborn, Galadriel, and Celebrian, and to all the folk of Belfalas," Beinvír added.

The messengers nodded their understanding of the message. Helluin and Beinvír bowed to them, and with that, left the room. An hour later the three errand riders of Belfalas were again upon the road, this time riding west for home. All considered, their mission had gone as well as they could hath hoped. And ever as they rode west they sought now to mark the presence of the Eldar and the Men who served as guardians, but they were foiled and only those few already upon the roads did they see.

On 13 Lothron, (May 13th), S.A. 2003 the gentle river chop lapped at the pilings of the quay in Pelargir. Save for the sounds from a tavern on the next street all was quiet. 'Twas just ere midnight, and o'erhead the last sliver of Ithil shed scant light upon the dark hulls of berthed ships. A waiting stillness lay velvet thick upon the water and about the warehouses and dockyards ashore there was no movement to be seen. It seemed all was deserted for not even a rat scuttled 'nigh. Soon from the center of town came the muffled pealing of twelve bells…midnight.

The soft dip and rise of approaching oars whispered in the darkness as a dinghy slipped across the water. Three figures wrapped in black cloaks were aboard, two rowing, the third staring at the docks. None spoke. No lanterns were lit.

At six minutes past midnight the boat hove alongside the dock and the third figure leapt softly ashore, fixed a line about a cleat and hauled the boat close by. While the other two figures remained at their oars, silent and unmoving, the one who had landed moved quickly into the shadows of the nearest warehouse. He advanced north hugging the wall, invisible to mortal eyes.

"Welcome to Lebennin, O thou of good faith," a soft voice said, causing the figure to gasp and flinch in spite of himself. The voice had come from directly in front of him and he had very nearly run into the speaker.

"I bear tidings dark," he whispered.

The figure in front of him let show the faintest of glimmers, paired blue, at head height, and these described a nod.

"Speak," the voice said.

"Tomorrow they shalt land, and finding none aforetime standing at arms inhither realm, they shalt lay claim to it in the name of the crown."

"Is he with them?" The voice asked, softly and with no emotion.

"They art at his command."

"Go thou in peace. Lebennin thanks thee for thy service."

"I am honored…" he began, but the blue was gone and he felt more than saw that he was alone. He could do aught but return in stealth to his boat. In a few minutes, the dinghy had gone as it had come, vanishing into the darkness and the peace of the night.

Dawn broke ushering in the 14th and with it a fair wind blowing upriver from the sea. By an hour past daybreak a tiny silhouette could be seen far downstream; a great ship of Númenor beating down the wind to the quays. Black it seemed and stark against the brightly flickering waves; a specter of doom flung upon waters lit by Anor to a stream of scintillating gold.

Ashore the docks stood deserted this day and the warehouses closed, while the ships afloat were silent and without watches. Yet still many vigilant eyes marked the ship's approach, silently waiting, patient and prepared.

"She is now but six leagues out and making, I should guess, a good nine knots," a voice reported, "two hours." A nod of agreement came in reply.

"_Give me thy leave to slay this self-satisfied whelp, O Helluin,"_ a fell voice whispered again after 156 years, "even as thou did not aforetime."

"If deeds beg blood this day then thou hast my blessing, O Anguirél."

By the time the ship hove to the docks and cast down its lines another company had joined the watchers, though naught was to be seen of them from the ship. Quickly a gangplank was laid and armed soldiers and mariners bearing cutlass and pike debarked. Amongst them there was a wariness, and yet 'twas obvious they expected not to be opposed. They stood together in a crowd surveying the docks, the berthed ships, the warehouses, and the streets leading into the town. At last a pair of officers stood forth, one bearing a standard of Númenor, white tree upon a field of dark blue 'neath a rayed star, the other Man older but still recognizable. 'Twas Tindomul, now a captain. He waited for all his company to settle and then he spoke.

"Here upon the 14th day of Lothron in the year 2003 of this Age do I claim this land in the name of the crown of Númenor. Henceforth these lands shalt be a province upon the Hither Shores and tributary to the rule of Tar-Ciryatan the king."

At this the standard bearer planted the flagstaff into the soil of Lebennin and the Men cheered. Indeed they cheered so loud that none heard the twang of a bow or the passing of an arrow. It flew true and found its mark with great force.

The cheering gave way to shouts of dismay as the flag of Númenor fell to the ground, its pole splintered and shorn in half by the impact. The sundered lower section stood shuddering. The leader stooped to retrieve the pennant and he saw that from the broken end protruded an arrow, shafted and fletched in white. The tip was finely wrought of polished steel. 'Twas an Elven arrow. Immediately he drew his sword, and seeing this, his Men fell into battle stances with weapons at the ready, their now suspicious eyes quickly searching their surroundings. Two only did they see coming towards them, but 'twas enough to wring a gasp from their lips and a desperate tightening of their hands upon their hilts.

"Who dares stand against the might of Númenor?"

"I do, Tindomul. Thou hast met me aforetime and thou was't worsted. This land shalt not be claimed by Númenórë this day for 'tis the sovereign Realm of Lebennin and it shalt acknowledge no o'erlord from across the sea."

As the Men watched, the two Elves came to stand but two fathoms from their leader. The shorter held a drawn bow that swung as she searched for a target. The taller held a black bladed longsword and a bright ring and her eyes crackled with a blue fire, warning of the battle rage they had heard tell of all their lives.

"Withdraw thy troops, Tindomul," Helluin ordered, "for thou stand now as hostiles and invaders and I declare thee enemies of this realm. 'Tis a sad day when I must treat thus a descendant of my own blood."

For long moments silence lay unbroken and all stood frozen as time trickled away like the squeezings from an olive press. A doom was being wrought and all held their breath. A choice now lay before the Dúnedain, either to respect prior claims as they had ever since the return of _Entulessë _to Mortal Lands, or to lay their claim and perhaps win in battle the first subjugated territory of their empire.

Despite all the weight of precedent to be set forever after, 'twas personal grievance that decided the course that day. Tindomul's anger had never abated in all the years since he had lost a sparring match to this Noldo in Umbar, and the grudge born of it he had nursed and it had grown strong. On this day Tindomul thought himself a far better swordsman than aforetime, and yet more, he had 200 armed Men at his back awaiting his orders. All desired the glory and riches to be found in this sleepy kingdom. They would stand with him. The lands about Anduin were much coveted and their taking had been long awaited.

"Nay, Helluin. I claim this land for the crown, but thou I claim already an enemy, and for thy crimes against me aforetime I shalt hath satisfaction. I see but two to defend a realm…'tis folly. None but thee stand against us and thou shalt both be slain."

"This is a sovereign realm, Tindomul, and 'tis well defended," Helluin declared.

Beinvír let forth a piercing whistle and from all about arose company after company of the Guardians of Lebennin. They were numerous enough to double cover the Dúnedain with their arrows and hold at bay those still aboard their ship.

And now the silence grew deep as death for the doom of that day hung by a bowstring; nay, even by a twisted hair of a bowstring drawn and held 'nigh the ear of an archer. In the waiting pall of that instant none dared breath. Even Arien seemed to halt her course.

"Keep for now thy wretched land then," Tindomul yelled in a rage, "but of thee alone shalt I hath redress this day!" And with those words he raised his sword and charged forward.

"And I shalt gladly drink thy blood at last," Anguirél declared as Helluin moved to meet Tindomul, second son of the King of Númenor and a prince of her bloodline.

O'er the last 156 years Tindomul had become a great swordsman. He had long trained 'neath the best masters of his land and had long bested all challengers amongst the Dúnedain. Yet who, of mortal blood and life soon to flee, could stand against one trained by no less a warrior than Eonwe in the Undying Land of Aman, back when the world was younger and the Light of the Trees still imparted its blessings?

Helluin expected that her adversary could bring her scant harm. His blade would never pierce her armor. Yet more, for all his prowess and royal blood he was still a mortal Man, and the gifts of the Calaquendi, tested and enhanced by her long centuries at war, rendered for 'naught any skills he could learn. Still she was impressed. He was far more powerful than any mortal she had fought aforetime. For the sake of his blood, in which her own flowed down through the generations from Almarian, the daughter she had born to Veantur of Númenor, she gave Tindomul three chances and thrice spared his life ere she slew him. For all that she saw the shadow upon him, he was still kin.

The first mercy was not hewing off his head in answer of his first stroke, for she saw aforetime his intent as ever she had with mortals. She turned her blade and snapped his head to the side with the flat, dazing him for a moment. The second respite she granted was in not opening his throat with the Sarchram, and indeed much evil in later days would hath been negated had she sent his spirit to the Void in that moment. The third reprieve she gifted to him was in not running him through when he slashed the air o'er her head as she ducked 'neath his stroke and rammed Anguirél's hilt deep into his belly. She had turned her wrist just enough to miss him with the blade and gore him with the crossguard.

Tindomul lay on his back in the sun, gasping for breath, sweating, and choking back his gorge after the blow knocked the wind from him. Above him Helluin stood at her ease, the black sword and the Grave Wing at the ready, waiting for him with her flashing eyes and her dark sneer. How he hated her! And he had very nearly had her several times, he deemed. T'would be but a matter of time ere he prevailed. He hoisted himself to his feet, took a deep breath, and surged forward again.

"Deliver thyself unto me, O thou forsaken," the black sword whispered.

He raised his blade for his next stroke and stopped short, the breath driven from him in a gasp that was echoed by the Dúnedain who hung back watching. Then he choked and was amazed to find blood filling his throat and fountaining from his mouth. Tindomul looked down in time to see Anguirel's black steel slipping from his chest as Helluin withdrew her. His own sword clattered from his hand.

"This blood doth taste not sweet," the black sword declared, "for 'tis tainted with the Shadow and I should be rid of it the sooner."

Without another glance at the fallen, Helluin stepped back and began cleaning her blade.

Tindomul sagged to his knees, the wheezing of a lung wound depriving him of his breath. He keeled over onto his right side, his sword arm and fallen weapon pinned 'neath him. He could see the dock stretching out before him, and the sides of ships gently rising and falling on the swells. About him the air seemed unnaturally heated. His vision was darkening. The beat of his failing heart filled his ears.

_So this is what death feels like_, he thought, _'tis failure and helplessness and defeat, and yet not so bad, for the moment's pain is gone and I feel but weak and cold. Now to rest._

But then a voice came to his ears, speaking soft and gentle at first hearing, yet harsh beneath and commanding…so commanding…and so persuasive, as ever it had been. He knew that voice well. He had harkened to it for o'er a hundred years.

_Forget not thy bargain, O Murazor, _it reminded him, using his Adûnaic name as it had ever been wont to do, _I hath fulfilled my part. Now comes thy restitution._

_I hath forgotten 'naught of it, yet I am dying, and so then short shalt be my service to thee be, I deem, for 'twas to be for but the time of my spirit's abiding upon Middle Earth and now my spirit shalt go beyond Arda._

His words were greeted by a chuckle, dark with menace, which chilled him to the bone. Tindomul could no longer see the world about him, only a grey haze softly buffeted by a breeze he couldn't feel. Then it parted, revealing a figure clad in plate armor, mirror bright, with inlaid arabesques of colored enamels, and 'neath a tall helm a face so beautiful that the cold smile curling its lips seemed wholly out of place.

_By the power of the Ring thou hath accepted art thou bound now in my service, for great gifts must be repaid with great price. For a score and five hath thou worn it. Now so long as I command thee, ever shalt thy spirit cleave to me, forsaking 'til world's ending the doom of thy kin. Welcome to my service then, Murazor, Lord of the Nazgûl._

The spirit of the Man who had been Tindomul screamed in horror. He had been tricked! He had been used! He had been promised the chance and the strength to confront his enemy, and this he had done…and never had he realized that he had not been gifted the strength to prevail. He had bethought his victory a foregone conclusion.

His horror was greeted with laughter, cold and triumphant. He was a wraith…a thrall.

Upon the quay of Pelargir Helluin looked down at her fallen foe. She rolled his body onto its back with the toe of her boot, but even as she gazed at his dead eyes he began to fade. In horror she searched his hands. There! Upon the index finger of his right, a Ring! She had seen it before and all the centuries since could not dim her memories.

In Lindon, at the council to which Gil-galad had commanded her with Beinvír in 1601 she had seen it. She had seen it upon a chain of gold clasped about the neck of her old friend Celebrimbor! 'Twas one of the Nine, made for their friends in Númenor; made with love and the best of intentions. And now Tindomul's body was fading just as had those of the two Ringwearers the master smith of Eregion had been forced to slay.

In desperation Helluin lashed down with the Sarchram to hew off his hand at the wrist. But she was late, a heartbeat too late. The Grave Wing struck the earth 'neath the ghostly arm and in that moment the last vestige of Tindomul's body vanished from 'neath the sun. The Men of Númenor gasped in shock. And from somewhere, from a great distance it seemed, a cold and triumphant laughter came to her ears. She had been tricked! She had been used! A scream of wrath rose from her throat in response as she cast her gaze across the river to the east.

"Sauronnnnnn!"

In the next moment a light of silver and gold flared upon the quay, brighter than Anor above. The dock timbers were scorched and smoke rose. Men covered their eyes to shield them from the radiance and they cowered back, friend and foe alike. 'Twas an outpouring of frustration and rage so great in its intensity that it beat upon the spirits of those who stood 'nigh as it were a physical blow. And finally the remaining Dúnedain fled back aboard their ship, cast off their lines, and in greatest haste, departed south to Umbar. It would be some time ere the Dúnedain came again to Lebennin save a few only of the Faithful who were _elvillyn_**¹**.

**¹**(**Elvillyn, _Elf friends,_** pl of elvellon. Sindarin)

**To Be Continued**

9


	49. In An Age Before Chapter 49

**In An Age Before – Part 49

* * *

**

Now despite Helluin's denial of Lebennin to the Men of Númenor at that time, many other lands fell under their dominion and many peoples were laid under tribute to the King of Men from across the sea. In the time of Tar-Ciryatan, resentment of Númenor grew stronger in Middle Earth, and so unto the realm 'nigh Anduin came many refugees fleeing oppression. These were for the most part welcomed by the peoples of Lebennin, though they were required to obey the laws of that land and keep the peace. Most took up their new lives with joy and prospered, for the land was bountiful and at peace.

Yet as always there were some few of evil disposition who sought to conducted themselves in imitation of those whom they had fled, desiring to take more than their due and reap the earnings of honest folks' labors. These would not be tolerated and were either deported from the borders or fled into the mountains to join with others of their ilk in enclaves in the Ered Nimrais. And those who fled thence were hunted down at times by the Guardians of the Realm, yet some persisted through the years, joining themselves to those who had lived there from of old, and they became a people apart, the Men of the Mountains…and they were not to be trusted.

In 2029 came word from Númenor of the ascension of Tar-Atanamir to the throne. By then the schism of the Dúnedain was well recognized by the Eldar in Middle Earth, and as with much else in Westernesse, this trend but increased as the years lengthened. Atanamir was resolved to be a greater king than his father; more powerful, more wealthy, and his name longer remembered. And 'neath all this was increased his resentment of the Eldar and of the Ban of the Lords of the West. No small part of his hatred came from the slaying of his brother by an Elda at Pelargir, the very same Elda who had polluted the blood of his house yet conferred not unto them the blessing of her immortal life.

Soon the king had gathered sufficient courage and self-regard to speak openly against both the Eldar and the Valar, and the most part of his people followed him and subscribed to his wisdom for they had become a great people, wealthy and powerful. Now the greater numbers followed the King and were called the King's Men, but there too were a smaller number that still honored the Lords of the West and kept their friendship with the Eldar. These alone came yet in peace, to Lindon and to Belfalas, and sometimes to Lebennin. There they met with their friends, and the Elves welcomed them, for few of the Elven folk would any longer sail to Westernesse, and those who did came to Eldalondë or Andunië only, for no welcome did they receive now in Romenna or Armenelos.

The reign of Atanamir the Great, as he was come to be called, lasted for 192 years, and when at last he relinquished the scepter to his son Ancalimon in 2221, 'twas only death that insured the succession. For the first time a king had withheld the rule from his Heir until death forced him thither, enfeebled, fearful, and bitter despite all the wealth he had raped from the Hither Lands during his long years upon the throne.

Tar-Ancalimon as ever clove to his father's ways, and so to Atanamir's greed and lust for power was added his own bitterness for the delay of his kingship. He had not the eternal Life of the Eldar and his father had stolen from him many years that Ancalimon thought rightly his. In retaliation he levied ever greater tribute from the Men of Middle Earth and made ever harsher his rule, for he too sought to be a greater king than his father. Despite his late coming to the throne, he ruled for 165 years. Those were long years of increased misery for his subjects on the Hither Shores, while in Númenor many amongst the King's Men ceased speaking the Elven tongues and taught them not to their children.

'Twas during Tar-Ancalimon's reign that the Havens of Umbar, already strengthened aforetime, became a fortification of great renown, indeed the strongest city in all the Haradwaith. This was done beginning in 2280 in response to a new threat out of the east. In 2250 the first conflicts with armies commanded by previously unknown servants of the Enemy were fought off with great loss, and these fearsome beings Men and Elves came to call the _Úlairi_**¹**. They were nine in number, like unto the figures of Men, but were ever cloaked and hooded in black and fear preceded them. They seemed to communicate betwixt themselves with screeches torturous to the ears. They themselves had no scent, but ever they sniffed at their surroundings. None saw their faces 'neath their hoods and most fled them in terror.

**¹**(**Úlairi, **lit. **_Ghosts, _****_úlaire_**(wraith, ghost) + **_-i_**(pl suff) Quenya. The Úlairi were robbed of their physical presence and were the incorporeal servants of Sauron. **_Nazgûl_** is their name rendered in the Black Speech of Sauron, **_Ringwraiths_** is 3rd Age Westron.)

The King's Men of Ancalimon's time came as conquerors to the folk dwelling in those lands and even upon the Faithful of their own people was their disregard and degradation visited. Thus when in 2350 Dúnedain of Andunië and others who still reverenced the West came in supplication to Helluin and Beinvír, they were granted welcome and leave to found a settlement and refuge in Lebennin at Pelargir, the very place that Tindomul had sought to take by force 'nigh on 350 years before.

Ancalimon proved like his father in yet another respect; he quit not the throne until death forced him from it, for he would desperately grasp each day given to him in power. His son Telemmaitë thought likewise and so a tradition was established. No longer did a king surrender the scepter to his Heir when he felt his time come 'nigh, but rather held greedily the reins of his rule until death took him, oft sickly, incontinent, despairing, and bereft of his wits. The conduct of elderly kings oft demeaned the ruler in his people's eyes and added to the collective fear of death that ever grew stronger upon them.

Tar-Telemmaitë took the throne in S.A. 2386, upon the death of Tar-Ancalimon, though he had wielded the power in his senile father's name for some time. He had become disgusted with his sire long ere Ancalimon passed beyond Arda, and from the first day of his rule feared his coming end yet more acutely even than those who had gone before. As if in answer of this, he lived 390 years and ruled for 140. 'Twas a long life and yet shorter than those of his house aforetime, while after him the spans of years in the royal house shortened yet further. 'Neath the shadow that had come upon Elenna, the gifts of the Valar to the House of Elros waned, and as they honored less those of immortal life, their own longevity was sapped from them.

In 2526 came Tar-Vanimeldë to the throne, the third ruling queen of Númenor. Word of her ascension came to Lebennin and Helluin was at first hopeful, recalling warmly Queen Tar-Telperien of a thousand years before. But tidings soon came to her from the Faithful that this queen was unlike those aforetime; neither bitter like Ancalime, nor duty bound and noble as had been Telperien. Rather, she was vapid. Helluin wrung her hands at the news and Beinvír had turned away saddened. Their sole consolation was that from descriptions proffered by the elvillyn, they learnt that Vanimeldë bore no resemblance to Helluin. During Vanimeldë's reign the power came to be exercised by her husband, (and cousin), Herucalmo, a greedy usurper who became so accustomed to his station that he withheld the crown from his son Alcarin, the rightful Heir, and declared himself Tar-Anducal. This pretender sat upon the throne for 20 years, until his death in 2657.

King Tar-Alcarin came to the throne in 2657 and ruled Númenor until 2737, a reign of but 80 years. Indeed he had the distinction of being the first Númenórean king to live less than 350 years. His son Tar-Calmacil lived but 309 years and was the first king to be known most widely amongst his people by his Adûnaic name, Ar-Belzagar.

Now Ar-Belzagar had in his younger days been a great captain of ships and a mighty commander of Men. At Umbar he widened the influence of Númenor until it encompassed well 'nigh all of Harad and threatened even Mordor. In those days all deemed him unstoppable.

Then fearing an invasion through the Nargil Pass upon the River Harnen, Sauron, who was yet filled with hate for the Dúnedain, disengaged his Úlairi and withdrew his armies, and he vacated the Black Land in 2731, marching thence to Khand and Rhûn wherefrom of old his master's Easterling allies had come. There, and in the lands still further east, dwelt Men who had worshipped Melkor in the Elder days, and amongst these Sauron came in might and seduced with his majesty those he could not cow, until well 'nigh all took him as both king and god. And so despite the oppression that Ar-Belzagar brought to those in the western lands, this singular good he achieved ere he sailed west and took the throne; that Sauron and his Ringwraiths were for a time driven back.

'Twas during the reign of Ar-Belzagar that another turning point was reached, though 'twas unknown to well 'nigh all in Middle Earth. In the year 2724 Helluin and Beinvír had come upon the eve of the Re i Anaro to the feet of Mindolluin upon the northern borders of their realm. There they followed a track made by the goats and sheep of the Ered Nimrais, up from the Vale of Anduin, ascending the steepening heights to the feet of the snow line. Thither lay a hollow, a small sward of green turf upon the mountainside, and long ago had Helluin first cast her glance upon it from afar.

_Surely the eyes of Manwe art upon this high place_, she had thought, _for 'tis in Middle Earth that place closest facing in spirit to hallowed Taniquetil that ever I hath found._

In latter days that same sward would again be regarded as hallowed by the Men who would one day come thither to found their mighty city. And even in that time, though great builders they were indeed, still as at the Hallow atop the Meneltarma of Númenor no structure did they build there, but upon certain days would the kings go thither, alone and in grave contemplation, to commune in hope and reverence with those in the Blessed West.

Now Helluin and her beloved stood in that high place looking far out across the land, past the green fields to the silvery river, and beyond it to the darkling walls of the Ephel Duath. As they watched, Anor rose, lofted hence by Arien to light the firmament upon the Day of the Sun which is mid-year and the day of longest light. And Anduin was kindled to a ribbon of fire that burned to a flush of gold, and the fields below were lit to reveal their bounty, miles of waving green grain and orchards with trees laden in fruit. Behind them the majesty of the Ered Nimrais thrust snow capped peaks to the heavens, twinkling and sparkling like towering crested waves of pearl and silver in the sun.

"'Tis a beautiful land and to Arda hath I ever cleaved," Beinvír said in awe of the view, "and upon this day I doth know indeed somewhat of the love for it that brought hither even so great a company as the Ainur."

Then Helluin said, "Upon this day I hath now passed in Mortal Lands, a span equal to that which I spent in Aman. No longer is the Blessed Realm my longest home, and the days henceforth draw me ever further from it. Now unto the Hither Shores doth my life cleave, and though the final home of all our people is indeed in the West, the home of my heart now is here."

3,620 years had Helluin dwelt in Aman, and now an equal span had passed, when to the westward march were added the days since she had accepted exile and returned to Middle Earth. Upon that day Helluin was 7,240 years of age. It would be long indeed ere she came ever again beyond the Sundering Sea.

Now Tar-Calmacil died in 2825 and he was followed by his son and his grandson, and the years lengthened even as the lives of the kings shortened. Yet all the while their wealth and their majesty increased so that each outdid his sire and each grew prouder, and ever further in their hearts from the Valar and the Eldar did they move.

By 2962, when the twentieth king, Ar-Adûnakhôr died at the age of 253, the teaching of the Elven tongues, Sindarin and Quenya, had been forbidden and no longer were they heard publicly in Númenor. Only amongst the Faithful were they taught in secret, and only to those families in Andunië did rare visitors from Tol Eressëa come in secret as well. Upon their last visit they brought to the House of Valandil seven stones of great virtue, for the Eldar foresaw that in future days speech between them would fail.

Now the Faithful held their king to be in open contempt of the Valar, for he had taken his crown in his Adûnaic name, and this they deemed blasphemy. Only in official scrolls locked in the palace was his name, Tar-Herunúmen, inscribed in Quenya as tradition and superstition dictated. Yet this was counted a blasphemy still, for Tar-Herunúmen in Quenya signified "Lord of the West", a title deemed fitting only for Manwe, the Elder King. Surely now, thought the Faithful, the kings courted some fell doom.

In that year Helluin was 7,679 years of age. Beinvír had been her beloved companion for 1,619 years, and together they had ruled Lebennin for 1,115 years. In that time they had assured the defense and continuity of Lebennin, shepherding it from a fading realm depopulated and ripe for the taking, to one strong, prosperous, and proud. Here Eldar and Men coexisted to their mutual benefit as they had of old 'neath the rule of Lenwe, and yet more than in any other mixed realm, 'twas more nearly a partnership of transition, teacher and student working in preparation for the doom of later days.

Ever had it been the belief of the Chief Guardians that Lebennin would become a realm of Men. The Eldar were leaving and their preeminence in Arda waned yet further with each passing year. Helluin and Beinvír had long recognized this. In token of their faith in the future they had taken no titles save those of Chief Guardians of the Realm. They had built no capitol city and held no court. What structure of governance they maintained was but to keep order within the realm and stand to defend it against its enemies. Most of the affairs of its people were decided at the local level, by the leaders in the towns, villages, and hamlets where they lived. There 'twas Men who ordered their own lives. The Eldar who yet dwelt in that land had been charged to teach what they knew of lore and craft, language and song, the tending of animals and plants, and to act ever as guests, for someday they would pass o'er the sea to their true home in the West.

As the years passed and this came to be more and more true, fewer and fewer of the people of Lebennin ever set eyes upon their sovereigns. Like the Eldar as a whole they faded from the collective consciousness, and this was by design. When they wandered the lands they dressed as guardians, called to themselves no attention, and watched as the society of Lebennin evolved.

In time some Men came to stations of high esteem within their communities and rose to become lords. Helluin and Beinvír saw this as a normal state indicative of the maturing of society and hindered it not save for when a lord acted against the law on his own behalf and threatened his people or his neighbors. Thence to that locale they would come, oft only to o'ersee the actions of the Guardians they sent. Then a new lord would be installed after the old was removed. Those of noble class knew this, and indeed the vast majority sought but to elevate their folk, yet perhaps once or twice in each generation would action by the Guardians become necessary. This safeguard was the primary domestic duty Helluin and Beinvír gifted to their realm. Beyond this, they kept the peace and watched the borders as Galadriel had beseeched them to do so long before.

And so, o'er the course of a thousand years and more, there grew up upon the southland 'twixt the White Mountains and the Sundering Sea, a prosperous and peaceful land of independent communities, tied together in a greater whole to which all gratefully felt an allegiance. There folk spoke many dialects of Men, evidence of the inclusion of refugees from many lands who had come hither fleeing the oppression of Númenor, yet well 'nigh all spoke also the Elven tongue, and oft Sindarin was heard amongst travelers and traders.

When at last in Lothron, (May), of the year 2994, a conclave of the lords of Men met to offer their eternal fealty to the Realm of Lebennin and to create for it a heraldry and a national council, then Helluin and Beinvír felt their work had at last come to its end. The peoples of their realm had grown to desire for themselves to undertake the ordering of the greater whole they had long safeguarded. So to that conclave, held upon a wide, grassy sward 'neath the sun and moon and stars as had the councils of the Hosts of the Eldar of old, they came to meet with their folk and to pass on the reins of power. The two Chief Guardians appeared together, walking into the pavilion that had been set, and spoke to the gathering for the last time as sovereigns, and for most gathered there 'twas the first and only time they would be seen and known for who they were.

"Thou art grown, O Men of Lebennin, and come'th now to thy maturity as a people," said Helluin, and all harkened to her words for the Light of Aman was in her face, "and pride of thy achievements do we feel who hath watched through the generations thy struggles. In the days to come, forget not thy purpose. Treat well thy fellows and find thy course together, for greater art thou as one in league of friendship than shalt thou ever be as many sundered. Fall not into the shadow that hast taken thy brothers in Númenor. Dim not the light thou hast kindled in this fair land betwixt the mountains and the sea. Thou art blessed by the Valar, and so long as thou art thankful and treat with honor thy gifts, they shalt come to thee renewed all the days of thy lives."

Then Beinvír spoke to them also and they were moved by her words as much as by her beauty, dark and mysterious and Elven fair beyond the measure of mortal blood.

"In the days of thy fathers of old was this land the east portion of Belfalas, a realm of the Nandor since ere the sun and the moon, and long 'neath the rule of King Lenwe did it prosper. Yet in Arda, ever do the days bring change. Lenwe long ago passed into the West and the greater part of his folk as well. Now this land is the realm of the Men of Lebennin and by thy efforts shalt it too long prosper. 'Neath Anor and Ithil the land and the sea art the same, yet those upon it hath changed, and still, the blessings of this land remain, a legacy from those in the West to be held in trust by thee for those yet to come. Fail not in thy earnest and keep strong thy hope, for the Valar indeed love both kindreds of the Children of the One.

Know thou then that with the authority and power to order thy realm on thy own behalf comes also the responsibility to offer praise to Eru. Go thence to the high hallow upon Mindolluin, for that place is within His sight, and there offer thanks for thy harvests, the fertility of thy land, the fecundity of thy flocks, and thy safety upon the sea. Offer thanks for the rains of spring, the sunlight of summer, the bounty of autumn, and the renewing rest of winter. Iluvatar is generous to those who honor Him."

When Beinvír was finished she turned and met Helluin's eyes and she silently asked the question she'd wished to voice for o'er a thousand years.

_Whither now, meldanya?_

_Wheresoever thou would go, meldis meldwain nin,_ Helluin answered.

_Then home._

**To Be Continued**

7


	50. In An Age Before Chapter 50

**In An Age Before – Part 50

* * *

**

**Chapter Thirty-five**

_**Eriador and Lindon – The Second Age of the Sun**_

"Thou hath been long away, my friends," Tórferedir said in greeting as he strode towards them amongst the trees. A smile was lit upon his face. It had been 1,284 years since they had parted 'nigh Sarn Athrad in 1710. "How stands Calenglad i'Dhaer?"

"The Greenwood was well tended when last we tarried 'neath its boughs," Beinvír reported. "There the kingdom of Oropher prospered, yet that time too is long past."

"Indeed so," agreed Helluin, "for we took our leave of Lord Oldbark in 1847."

At this, Tórferedir's brows were gathered in confusion. Whither had they gone for the next 1,147 years? 'Twas considered impolite and prying amongst the Laiquendi to ask any to give an accounting of themselves save at some dire need and so he wouldn't ask. Knowing this, Beinvír volunteered the information.

"We came first unto Umbar, finding there disappointment with the conduct of the Dúnedain. Thence to Belfalas did we go, where we were conned by the Lady Galadriel into assuming the rule of Lebennin 'till this Lothron past. Indeed we art but newly returned to our lives as wanderers and proper Elves."

It had been worth it, Beinvír thought, simply to see the expression of amazement on the old hunter's face. 'Twas many moments ere he could utter even a gasp.

"Fear not, Tórferedir," Helluin reassured him, "for she soon had them all cloaked as art thy people, schooled them to proper stealth, and even perfected their archery. I taught them sword play after the fashion of Eonwe. Others of the Tawarwaith taught aught else needed by a people to prosper in a fine and fertile land."

"The Tawarwaith taught…? Taught who…?" He sputtered at last.

"Why the Men of Lebennin, of course," Beinvír said.

They caught him and eased him to the ground when his eyes rolled up in his head and he went limp. Later, around their campfire, they assured him that his hearing had not fallen prey to some enchantment and he had indeed heard them aright. Still, it took them long into the night ere they convinced him that the Younger Children of Iluvatar could indeed learn the ways of the Green Elves in so far as they were able. No, they had not been perfect either at concealment or in the aiming of their bows as were those of the _Galadrim_**¹**, but far better were they than Men unschooled. They had become more than capable of foiling the sight of other Men and unobservant Elves. Tórferedir finally sat shaking his head in wonder, but he could not gainsay their claims save by going himself to Lebennin, and that he had no intention of doing. He had come to Eriador just shy of 3,000 years ago and was finally confident in his knowledge of every stream and tree as they now stood 1,300 years after the war. 'Twas finally feeling like a proper home.

**¹**(**Galadrim, **lit. **_Green Elves_**, but more properly used later for the Elves of Lórien in the 3rd Age. Sindarin)

"What then shalt thou do next?" Tórferedir asked boldly.

"We hath an annual rendezvous long unkept to attend in one week's time," Beinvír told him, "though we greatly fear the hosts and daren't enter their home. Perhaps if thou hast no pressing business elsewhere thou would care to accompany us thither?"

Helluin chuckled and Tórferedir eyed them suspiciously.

"Thou go not forth to a city?" He asked just to make sure. They shook their heads 'no'. "Indeed I hath no business and no destination at present. Very well then, I shalt join thee for thy…umm, rendezvous."

The evening of 23 Ivanneth, S.A. 2994 was fading and Anor had fallen to the horizon beyond the forest to the west. The three stood upon the downs staring at the laughing falls and marking the Withywindle as it flowed away into the forest in the dimming light. There too below them again was the enchanted house of Iarwain Ben-adar

"I see it, but I feel not the strangeness with which 'tis ever surrounded," Helluin stated.

Beinvír shrugged, her eyes wide. "Perhaps the effect shalt become more plain 'nigh the river? Perhaps more easily marked at night?"

"Whatever doth thou mean," Tórferedir asked, "'tis but a homestead 'nigh a stream."

He walked the few paces to the trailhead and began descending from the downs in the fading light. Helluin and Beinvír hastened to join him, still looking carefully all 'round. Everything appeared normal, and yet they knew that nothing they saw was. They were visited by shivers as they drew closer. There lay the lawn, the house, the barn...even the coneys nibbling upon the grass. The sky darkened and Anor sank further still. Before them the shadow of the trees extended its hand toward them like a creeping plague. The noon sharp front edge of the shadow met the front wall of the house and o'erhead the first stars burned. Beinvír nudged Helluin's side and tipped her head up. Helluin looked.

"'Tis just as before, sure enough," she said, clutching Tórferedir's tunic and drawing him to a halt. "Look thou at the stars as they once shone ere the sun and moon."

He looked up and gasped. They twinkled not but grew ever brighter as the heavens fell to black. When he looked back down he marked the flatness of the forest ahead. Indeed it looked unreal and threatening and he would not hath entered it for anything.

"Timeless it is and yet not from any time," he whispered, "or not from any time within the years of my life." He glanced up again. "Perhaps they look thus in Cuivienen?"

"I should wonder not if they reproduce that which was seen in the Ages of the Lamps, long ere the Quendi awoke," Helluin guessed, "for not even upon the Westward March did they burn so bright."

"And indeed many known well to us appear not," Beinvír said studying them closely. "Helluin, thy star shows not its light…nor Menelmacar, nor Valacirca, nor Wilwarin."

"Nor Earendil," Tórferedir said with a tremor in his voice. He turned to Beinvír and asked, "What spell goes forth to make thus the night sky? What sorcery here doth turn back the years of Arda?"

"'Tis the doings of Iarwain Ben-adar," she said, "and each year we could, upon this night hath we come hither, hoping against hope to see this deadly mirage and seeking to perhaps find liberated, Dálindir and his company. Come, the night is full."

They walked across the lawn following the rabbits to the door, and as before the windows were lit from within by a golden light. A sharpness lay upon everything, subtle, yet horrifying. The door opened and Goldberry appeared, and as before, she stepped into her bunny slippers. Tórferedir marked this and gasped. They were now but two fathoms from the door, standing in plain sight, but Maldiaving marked them not.

Then the silhouette of Iarwain filled the doorway eclipsing their view of the room beyond. He was as he had ever been, short, thick, and ludicrous in his garb. With a gentle hand he ushered Maldiaving back within the house and then stood upon the threshold eyeing the three Elves.

"Ick, ack, so thou art back," he uttered in a sing-song voice. He offered them a smile that chilled their blood. Tórferedir choked. Helluin seethed. Beinvír spoke.

"Return to us our friends, Iarwain," she said, "for 'tis not right that thou should keep them ever here. They hath lives and friends and they art sorely missed. Whither comes thy right to hold them so, year after year? This fate thou hast forced upon them is not just, 'tis not in accord with their place in Arda; 'tis not the fate gifted them by the One. Thou hast great power, true, but to use it thus? Such usurpation of another's freedom smacks of the ways of Morgoth himself. Thou should be ashamed."

Iarwain stared at Beinvír in silence, but he had harkened to her appeal and his eyes were turned within. For the first time he appeared old! The moments lengthened as he stood still and undecided.

"She speaks the truth and thou know'th the truth of it," Helluin said softly, "and be thou Maia or Vala, or some other spirit of an order great, to force thy will thus upon those of lesser kind is wrong. It hath deprived these innocents of their voice in the Song. Thou hast made them thralls."

Iarwain cast his glance upon Helluin, then upon Beinvír, and last upon Tórferedir, and there was conflict and sorrow in his eyes.

"Thou should use thy gifts to aid those thou find, not to harness them in buckets and stay their path to their rightful doom," Beinvír said. "There is peril enough in the world."

"They were already thy friends, Iarwain," Helluin added, "and hither they would hath come at times, for already they enjoyed thy company. Thou needs not hath trapped them thus as skins."

Iarwain sat down hard upon the threshold and looked up at them, a heartbreaking expression upon his normally jovial features.

"But my friends in whom I delighted kept passing from the world," he said, his voice hitching with sorrow, "and in but a few days as it seemed to me, they would come never again. And I…I missed them."

From 'neath his tall conical hat he drew a violet handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes, then blew his nose with a loud honk.

"All changes upon Arda, my friend," Tórferedir said, "and many art those we hath come to miss. Yet such hast ever been the way of the world and to accept one's place within it is to accept that all is as it should be, even though it may not be as one would wish it. All seek to hold ever their joy, yet such cannot be. 'Tis but our place to treasure the day as it stands and hope for as good on the morrow. If thou be within Arda and cleave to it with love, then thou too art bound to its fate."

Iarwain nodded slowly and again blew his nose. He then gave the handkerchief a snap that flung from it the moisture gathered there ere he replaced it 'neath his hat.

"Thou speak the truth," he admitted at last. The sorrow upon his face was heartbreaking for it spoke of accumulation through many long Ages…far longer then the wearying store in the memory of any Elf. "I hath slipped somewhat of late, I fear. I shalt release them."

He rose and turned to reenter his home and beckoned to those within. Shortly there stood upon the doorstep, Dálindir, Celegaras, Gérorn, the Dwarf of Nogrod, the Man, and Maldiaving. Iarwain waved a hand before them and a scintillating dust of light washed o'er their figures. They shook themselves and blinked and then looked all about them.

"Poopy-pee, thou all art free," Iarwain said. "Now thou can'st take thy leave of me."

The three Green Elves stepped forward and greeted Tórferedir, Beinvír, and Helluin. The Dwarf and the Man looked around in confusion. Maldiaving looked at Iarwain.

"Greetings, my friends," Dálindir said. "Beinvír, Helluin, whither came thou upon this old scoundrel?" He moved forward and wrapped Tórferedir in a hug that the hunter joyfully returned.

Gérorn and Celegaras smiled at the long maintained kidding between the young king and his much older general. Then Gérorn came forward and tried to greet Beinvír with a kiss, but she turned her head from him and the big ellon looked at her in confusion.

"Much hath changed, my friend," she told him, "and indeed the explanation shalt take some time, yet all shalt be told and thou shalt understand what hast come to pass." He could but nod and accept her words though he understood them little.

Upon the threshold Iarwain and Maldiaving were still facing one another.

"Thou hath now thy leave to follow thy heart," Iarwain told the Riv-er Daughter, "and to thy streams and brooks may thou return. Of all here hath I done thee the greatest harm, for thou hast been with me since ere the fall of Illuin and Ormal, and I fear thou shalt find all 'bout much changed. Ever did I desire but to hath thy company, for bereft of thee my heart falls cold and lonely as the Void, my ancient home. I am so very sorry, my love."

Helluin was shocked by Iarwain's words. Not a thing he'd said had rhymed.

Maldiaving looked about the house, out at the forest, the Withywindle, the sky, and the lawn. She looked down at her own feet and wiggled her toes within the bunny slippers, and then she stepped out of them and bade them be on their way. The coneys regarded her for a moment with twitching noses ere they hopped off across the grass.

"Freed now, I suppose they shalt find some warm burrow and many tender shoots, and so shalt call this place home," she said. "For myself I choose as hath the coneys. I shalt stay ever where I hath found a home and more."

And with that she took Iarwain's hand and led him back inside the house. The door closed behind them. In the next moment, the house and all about it wavered, faded, and was gone. The path upon which the company stood flickered and vanished, leaving the bare grass 'neath their feet. Above them Ithil and the stars they knew were restored. The Dwarf's eyes were wide in shock. He stared at the space where the house had stood, then up at the sky, and seeing Ithil, he recoiled in amazement. The Man screeched and leapt repeatedly as if trying to divorce his feet from contact with the enchanted ground. Helluin shook her head at his antics. He really was a primitive. A tug at her sleeve drew her attention.

_Whatever shalt we do with them,_ Beinvír asked silently, giving a cant of her head to indicate the Dwarf and the Man. Helluin groaned.

_The Dwarf I should think shalt find kinship with those in Khazad-dum, and there we should convey him,_ she said, then she looked at the Man, (who had finally ceased his St. Vitas dance), and shook her head, _of him, I hath no idea._

_Perhaps some amongst the Men about Nenuial art his kin long sundered, _Beinvír suggested hopefully.

_Very long sundered, _Helluin said with a mental grimace. _Could not Iarwain hath returned them from whence he took them?_ _How, pray tell, doth we ever find ourselves saddled thus with the dregs of Arda's doom?_

The giggles of the Green Elf continued off and on as the company made their way up onto the downs. There they built a camp and about the fire spent the night in a bizarre state of combined rejoicing and confusion. Indeed 'twas one of the stranger nights any had experienced, even Helluin and Beinvír.

They could only guess what the Man thought, for while the three Laiquendi had friends and the Dwarf could converse a bit with Helluin in an archaic dialect of Khuzdul or halting Sindarin, the Man had no tongue in common with them. He had no inkling of later history, he had never seen an Elf or a Dwarf save those in Iarwain's house, and upon him the Shadow of old out of the east lingered much like a coat of dirt upon a waif. By his dark looks, Helluin guessed him some scion of the folk of Bëor, and indeed when she spoke the name of _Balan_**¹** he nodded vigorously. But no more than that could she ascertain with words and he eventually fell into a brooding silence.

**¹**(**Balan,** the true name of the Adan who came to be called Bëor after taking service with Finrod Felagund. Bëor was the word for "vassal" in the ancestral tongue of the First House of the Edain. _The Sil_., Ch. XVII, pg. 166)

"In the time in which his people came unto Beleriand was I already in the Hidden City, and what little I doth know of the coming of Men I hath learnt as lore," Helluin said later after the Man had fallen asleep. They had given him much wine and this he had consumed with gusto, finally falling into a stupor and then passing out. It had been a questionable measure at best. Helluin shook her head. "Wish I could command him to wash," she muttered, wrinkling her nose, "for 'naught save his feet art clean."

Of the Dwarf, (when he could but for a while tear hence his eyes from the moon to answer), she learned that all that had been spoken in the House of Iarwain had come to his ears in his own tongue. It seemed that the strange host had arranged for each guest to speak in his own language and hear the others in his own tongue as well. None had learnt the speech of the others. Helluin sighed. Two Ages to learn and the Man knew not a word of Sindarin. She wondered too how the tidings of the Battle of the River Ascar would be received by the Dwarf…how the Laiquendi of Ossiriand had annihilated his folk, and how he had been joyfully sharing company for centuries with the king of his exterminators. She strove to appreciate the irony.

At last Beinvír came and joined Helluin. She and Tórferedir had been updating their king and his company about all that had come to pass in their absence. It had taken hours and was far from complete, but they had voted to cease for the night and continue on the morrow. Beinvír wrapped her arms around Helluin's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. Helluin turned her head and brushed her lips across those of her partner. She rejoiced to see the bright light of joy in the Green Elf's eyes.

"Thou hast finally achieved thy desire," she said, "thy friends at last art free."

"And none more surprised than I,' Beinvír admitted. "Yet I hath long had my desire." Here she batted her eyes suggestively at Helluin, "Though what hath transpired this night is indeed the fulfillment of a long held wish."

"It hast been a special day, _meldanya_," Helluin said with a smile, "indeed for more than one cause."

"So it is indeed, _meldis meldwain nin_," Beinvír replied doing the math, "to the day 'tis 1,733 years we hath spent together." Her eyes were bright with joy and Helluin sought to memorize the look deep within them and to forge thence a memory to last her 'till the end of days. "I should spend thus with thee my days 'till Arda fail and all art called home."

"And then I should spend with thee all my days in bliss," Helluin said, "for whether in Arda or in Aman, or in some place yet to be, 'tis thy company I shalt crave."

They spent their anniversary wrapped together in their bedroll of many, many mole skins, lost to the world without as they gazed eye to eye through the remaining hours of darkness. In that time a glimmer enveloped them, the dim and mundane reflection of that blazing fire within that surrounded their joined fëar, and seeing this, Gérorn understood more clearly than words could tell and he was happy for his friends.

Upon the morrow, (and only thence after repeatedly assuring the Dwarf that Anor signaled not the world's ending nor would it fall from the sky to smite them dead with fire), they continued their discourse and the conversation was broken only for a time when Tórferedir and Dálindir and Celegaras slipped away into the forest to hunt something for supper and for old times' sake. They soon returned with a pygmy forest deer, already dressed and skinned. The Dwarf capered with joy at the sight of it and the Man's mouth watered. Beinvír and Tórferedir set to work at the butchery while Helluin built up the fire.

Later they decided that Helluin and Beinvír, having been known aforetime to that kindred though 'twas long ago, would convey the Dwarf hence to Khazad-dum. At the same time, Tórferedir would join the company of his king, indeed intending not to let him out of his sight for some time, and they would somehow bring the Man to his distant kin who dwelt 'nigh Lake Nenuial. There lingered some Men whom Helluin had long before discerned were akin to the House of Bëor, and amongst whom this Man might find welcome and a few words in common.

Now the Dwarf, who declared his name to be Ishkabibúl, was indeed quite happy to be going hence to the halls of Durin, for all the Khazad regarded Durin the Deathless as the father of their race. During his life in Nogrod thus far, (and he was considered young, being but 51 years of age), Ishkabibúl had only heard myths telling of the mansions of Durin's folk far to the east.

"Ahhh, to see with mine own eyes Kheled-Zâram and such lofty peaks and such deep mines as art hinted at in our lore," he rhapsodized. "I was a prospector in the Ered Luin and a minor craftsman of fine metals, thou know'th. Oh, to practice again my trade, but in the mighty Hithaeglir. I should come then before the Lord Durin himself to offer my service and proffer tidings of my people in the Ered Luin."

_Durin IV or Durin V perhaps, _Helluin thought.

Now Helluin, noting that he had scarce grown accustomed to the sun and moon, realized how very tardy would be any tidings he could possibly share and shook her head. He had certainly come into Iarwain's house when but the stars shone o'erhead. And yet he spoke some few words of Sindarin, probably learnt secondhand from those craftsmen of Belegost who had labored on the delving of Menegroth for Elu Thingol.

"Tell me I pray thee, what event stands most recent in thy memory," Helluin asked, "for the time of the stars is now long past."

Ishkabibúl regarded Helluin and then sat thinking, chin in hand absently scratching his beard. After some moments thus he brightened and offered, "That 't'would certainly be the coming of many new Elves o'er the Ered Luin…ever secretive they were, but good singers. They went not far into the lands west of the mountains and indeed came to inhabit the country downslope from Tumunzahar in the north, south to Gabilgathol."

_He recalls most recent the coming of Denethor and the Laiquendi to Ossiriand? _

"Perhaps thou should first listen to those tidings proffered unto thee," Helluin hedged.

He regarded her curiously for some moments.

"Surely thou hath marked the sun and moon," Beinvír asked, to which he nodded, and cast again a wary glance at Anor. "They hath been aloft a very long time…time during which thou hath been confined within the house of Iarwain, while without, the world hast moved on."

"I am sure that some years hath passed, 'tis true," he conceded, "and perhaps as thou say a long time indeed." At his words Beinvír began to relax thinking Ishkabibúl to be uncommonly accepting of strange news. Then again, he was Naugrim. She raised a drinking skin to her lips. He said, "They art fine work and wholly unfamiliar to me. I am sure it took our craftsmen a long time to forge them." She spewed water o'er both he and Helluin.

They decided to tarry upon the downs yet another day for both water and food were now in plenty. Helluin and Beinvír spent that time trying to acquaint Ishkabibúl with the doings of the last 4,100 years. The Man they kept drunk for they could think of aught else to do with him. As a drunk he was jovial after his fashion, or at least he spent little time morose and confused. This they deemed good. 'Twas Dálindir who first had somewhat to suggest for his rehabilitation.

"Helluin, my once and present friend," the King of the Green Elves began, "I hath given some thought to the plight of our…companion." Here he gestured toward the besotted mortal. "I hath heard that in the first meeting of the Eldar with Men 'twas one of thine own who made first contact. Indeed 'twas Finrod son of Finarfin who taught much to the people of Bëor. 'Twas also he that led them hence to Estolad from Ossiriand ere we stooped to tormenting them."

To this Helluin nodded for him to continue though she little liked where she believed this conversation was headed. In fact she doubted not that 'twas Dálindir himself who had beseeched Finrod to remove his new vassals from Ossiriand, _"hewers of the trees and hunters of beasts"_**¹ **that they were.

**¹**(Partial quote from The Sil., Ch.XVII, pg. 166)

"'Twas told afterwards that indeed Finrod was gifted with the understanding of tongues, and that ere long he was able to hold converse with the Men of Bëor's tribe. Thus were many secrets learnt by the Eldar, such as the coming of yet more Men o'er the Ered Luin. Now I wonder if thou too art gifted likewise with an understanding of tongues, for came thou not also from across the sea?"

Helluin groaned. Yes, she had come from across the sea and yes, she was gifted with the understanding of tongues after the fashion of her people. In Middle Earth she had learnt the speech of Ents, different Elves, Dwarves, and half a dozen dialects of Men. She understood some of the Black Speech of Sauron's creatures and from her time in Aman, even somewhat of the speech of birds and beasts. Given time she could probably come to understand the tongue of this Man as well, for 'twas said that even at first the speech of the kindred of Bëor had been influenced by the tongues of the Avari. Still, 'twas the last thing she was interested in…learning a dead tongue of mortals long dead.

"She can talk to birds and even certain trees," Beinvír asserted helpfully to her king.

_Oh thank you so very much…dear,_ Helluin said silently.

Dálindir nodded to Beinvír while retaining a grave countenance ere he continued.

"'Twas said that in the beginning Finrod son of Finarfin harped and sang to them and thus brought pictures to their minds. Also he was deemed capable of perceiving their thoughts without spoken words," Dálindir said.

With a growl Helluin went o'er to the collapsed Man and looked for a moment into his bleary eyes. She was assailed by such a confusing jumble of thoughts that she reeled. All in his perception was crooked and unsteady. She returned to Dálindir and Beinvír.

"In the morn I shalt delve again into his mind, for at present his inner voice is slurred," she said. She deeply suspected that Dálindir was foisting off the Man on her and would be only too happy to not take him to Lake Nenuial, but rather go hunting with Tórferedir and the rest of his company. "I shalt do what I can, but I deem t'would be best for him to be amongst his own folk."

Dálindir nodded. Helluin was welcome to him for the duration.

"Pray tell, will't thou also sing?" He asked innocently. Helluin gave him a dirty look.

_I should hath thee explain to Ishkabibúl the Battle of the Rathlóriel,_ Helluin thought, _in verse and unaccompanied,_ _for art thou not king of a host of singers? _But she held her peace.

O'er the next week, Helluin worked dawn to dusk learning the Man's speech, conveying to him visions of all that had gone before, and teaching him the rudiments of the Sindarin tongue. For Helluin 'twas a tiresome labor, for him awe inspiring, and for the others, entertaining. She partook not of their mirth. During the course of her 'lessons', Helluin sang many songs, recited many poems, and presented many images. At the end of that week, upon 2 Narbeleth, (October 2nd), Helluin was astonished and disturbed, and the Man full afflicted with hero worship. Indeed he followed Helluin about like a puppy.

'Twas only due to her acquisition of stealth from Beinvír that she was able to slip away just ere evening and hunker down 'neath her cloak in a hollow upon the downs to rest her mind in peace. 'Reading' the Man's thought had been bizarre, to put it charitably, for so filled with odd and unseemly images had it been that Helluin desired to launder her brain.

In part 'twas his uncontrollable and pervasive inclination to meditate upon sexual possibilities that unsettled her. Perhaps 'twas that these were wholly divorced from any emotional connection that confounded her the more. And almost anything seemed to trigger such…lapses. In the midst of a vision of Laurelin's flowers eagerly parting and opening their swollen and glistening petals to flow with copious and luminescent moisture of gold, here came another erection. Helluin was baffled. It had been even worse when she'd presented the image of herself naked 'neath the Two Trees, aglow and drenched in the Living Light. The reaction to that…she didn't want to think of it.

Then there were the memories of the Man's journey and the years in the east; the fear of the dark, of the stalking shadows, of the cold, of starvation, of death, and of the cannibals. It had been a litany of pathos, that journey west from Hildorien.

But there had been other details yet more disturbing still, and for them, Helluin wanted to wring Iarwain's neck like a chicken. Scant wonder the Man had recognized the name of Balan. This Man's name was Balar…Balar son of Balan, and he had been born in F.A. 284. Men had first come to Ossiriand in 310, and in the succession of the First House of the Atani, the lordship had passed from Balan to Baran, eldest _living_ son of Bëor the Old. No mention had come into any tale of Beleriand of a son lost and presumed dead ere that people had crossed the Ered Luin. Iarwain had kidnapped the rightful Heir of the First House and all the subsequent history of that people had been set askew. And yet it had led to Beren upon one branch, and upon another through Rain to Tuor and Earendil. Could it hath been wrong? Had Iarwain known what he was doing? Or did the Song unfold in spite of him? And yes, Helluin acknowledged, Iarwain certainly could not hath returned Balar to his rightful time now. All that she had known would hath changed.

Helluin had learned that despite Balar's compulsive reactions, he was as noble a Man as she could hath found amongst those wholly unlearned and retaining their primal state. In the single week she had worked with him, he had reacted again and again with disapproval when confronted by her memories exemplifying ill deeds done long in the past. He had a conscience and a native system of ethics encompassing the honesty, faithfulness, and courage that had won the praise and love of the Eldar long aforetime. He was just extremely ignorant. Still, he would hath been a good leader of his house in his own time.

'Twas only after some hours' search and as dusk approached that Beinvír accidentally strode onto Helluin's back and tumbled thence into the hollow with her when Helluin recoiled 'neath her cloak.

"I hath been looking for thee," the chagrined Green Elf said.

Helluin quickly cast her cloak o'er them both after chancing a suspicious look about the hollow. 'Naught was to be seen yet of the others.

"Thou hast found me indeed," Helluin replied. "What goes forth at the camp?"

"Well, they all seek thee," Beinvír said, "for in thy absence hath come a messenger." At Helluin's groan she added, "from Lindon."

"Howsoever hath they contrived to find us hither? 'Tis not as if we hath been 'nigh these lands for centuries," she said in amazement. "Hast this messenger declared aught of his errand?"

"Indeed he hath said little save that he seeks thee on behalf of thy king."

Helluin sighed. "Better would we hath been perhaps to remain in Lebennin, retaining our sovereignty, and thence plundering and pillaging all that land, nay, even further, to Umbar as well. Whatever can'st Ereinion want of me?"

"Oh come now, surely 'tis not so bad," Beinvír said with little conviction, "at the worst he shalt contrive for thee some dire errand, claiming thence that only thou can achieve it." She fought to maintain a straight face as her partner grimaced.

"Indeed I fear just such may come to pass and I hath not the time to indulge it," Helluin said ere she fell silent as she seriously considered slaying the messenger and ignoring the summons. Having spent so many years together Beinvír easily perceived her mind.

"Helluin, thou can'st not wantonly execute thy king's errand rider. 'Tis wrong, and besides, what example shalt that serve for the Man or for Ishkabibúl? Even Dálindir and Tórferedir should thence condemn thee. Nay, my friend, we must heed the summons." She let a small grin shape her lips and suggested, "We can always retreat beyond Gil-galad's realm should his business be unpalatable."

"Indeed thou art correct," Helluin admitted, "I should not find myself craven when faced with my king's commands. Yet perhaps we can'st contrive to slay them all ere we disappear for an Age. Save for Tórferedir, the others art deemed dead anyway, or art unknown. Had I only the bodies of a company of Yrch to leave beside them I should be too sorely tempted."

Beinvír's eyes widened a moment in shock ere they narrowed as she perceived her partner's jest.

"Thou art most horrible, my love," she said.

"Indeed so," Helluin agreed. "Come, let us go thither and hear this messenger."

Upon their appearance at the camp, the messenger stood forth and recited his rede. 'Twas the same as ever before, or perhaps even more grandiose.

"Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, thou art summoned by the command of Ereinion son of Fingon, High King of the Noldor, to appear forthwith at his court in Lindon with greatest haste. If thy companion be Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador, then she too is summoned thither, save without word of command."

At this Dálindir threw up his hands. Despite his best laid plans he could see that he was to be warder to the Man _and_ the Dwarf for some time. Tórferedir scowled.

The messenger looked around at the group of unfamiliar faces and fell silent. He had obviously expected to find Helluin and Beinvír alone, yet here they sat with several Green Elves, a Dwarf, and a Man costumed as one of the Atani of yore. Finally with a self-conscious swallow he concluded with, "I am to lead thee thither."

"Yes of course," Helluin said in resignation, "thank ye kindly. How long hath thou sought us, pray tell?"

"Indeed this summons is now 52 years unfulfilled. I hath searched for thee dutifully and in earnest," he said, "yet I am sure Gil-galad shalt be wroth with me for the delay."

"I am sure t'will be excused," Beinvír said to comfort him, "indeed we art but recently returned to Eriador. Thou would hath found us not aforetime. Thy king shalt come to understand that thou art blameless."

The messenger sighed in relief.

Dálindir looked to Beinvír in question.

"I regret that I must heed this summons, my friends," she said, "for I can'st hardly leave my beloved to tread hence into such certain jeopardy alone." To her credit she said it with a straight face.

"I regret to leave thou with both Ishkabibúl and Balar," Helluin said, though her tone was uncontrite, "We shalt rejoin thee if we art at liberty to do so, otherwise I should pray thee proceed as planned. Convey Balar to the folk about Lake Nenuial. He now speaks somewhat of the Sindarin tongue. Convey also Ishkabibúl unto Khazad-dum."

At the last, the four Green Elves blanched. Helluin had forgotten about their beliefs concerning the Naugrim. She shrugged; there was naught that she could do for it now. For their parts, Balar was disappointed and Ishkabibúl sullen.

**To Be Continued**


	51. In An Age Before Chapter 51

**In An Age Before – Part 51

* * *

**

After packing their meager belongings, Helluin and Beinvír followed the messenger south across the downs, and as they had aforetime, and found a mounted company awaiting their arrival with spare horses. Again they rode to Harlond and thence sailed to Forlond. Upon 12 Narbeleth S.A 2994 they arrived at the court of Gil-galad.

As before Helluin followed Beinvír through the halls of Lindon, carefully watching as the Green Elf's eyes skittered o'er everything. As during their visits aforetime she was marking all the strange and unnatural furnishings and the curious behaviors of the courtiers. Beinvír regarded the court as unwholesome and bizarre while Helluin regarded it as theater.

At the door to Gil-galad's study the very same herald announced them. The very same chamberlain admitted them. The High King sat in the very same chair before the very same desk, and directed them to the very same seats in which they'd sat while meeting Celebrimbor the newly returned Lord Glorfindel. They both found the familiarity as uncomfortable as it was comforting.

"Why art thou here?" Gil-galad asked of Helluin as he examined her closely.

"I hath come hither in response to thy summons, my King," Helluin replied after bowing and stifling her surprise. "Thy messenger was most dutiful in the execution of his errand. Still he claims thy summons is now 52 years old."

Gil-galad regarded her as an item 'till but recently misplaced.

"Ahhh," he said finally as if recovering a memory, "I hath an errand for thee. 'Tis unfortunate thou was't so difficult to summon, yet perhaps the errand shalt still bear fruit."

_And why am I not surprised? _Helluin asked herself. _I should indeed hath slain the messenger, poor example or no._

"Word hath come to me of the ever increasing hostility of the Númenóreans toward our folk," the king declared, "and this remains as true today as 52 years ago, I deem. I hath need of firsthand knowledge of the situation there. Such as I hath comes from those few elvillyn who still call at Mithlond and these art disregarded at home. I hath therefore decided to send thee hence to Númenor upon a scouting mission. Conduct it in such ways as thou see fit."

"My King, I hath been long upon the southern coast ruling a realm 'nigh that of Umbar. O'er the course of the centuries there I hath indeed marked the increasing hostility of the Dúnedain. Well 'nigh a thousand years ago I was't forced to slay a prince of the ruling house who sought to claim the Realm of Lebennin as a province of Númenor. Since that time, the avarice and pride of that people hath grown ever more o'erbearing. Many Men suffer 'neath their yoke and for their gathering of tribute. I need not sail to Númenor to mark this. In that land 'tis now illegal to teach our tongues and such that speak them still do so only in secret.

Those _Elendili_**¹** of which thou doth speak art known amongst themselves as The Faithful, for 'tis not merely the friendship of the Eldar in which they persist. Rather art the greater numbers of the Dúnedain now fallen from their love of the Valar and we art seen as their spies. All possessed of unending life doth reap their hatred, for 'tis born of jealousy and the fear of their own deaths. Neither can'st we amend. I deem the Shadow of old hast crept upon them, and that which they escaped aforetime is now renewed. And there is worse, my King.

**¹**(**Elendili, _Elf Friends, elendil_**(elf-friend) +**_ -i_**(pl.) Quenya)

He whom I slew was Tindomul, second son of Tar-Ciryatan their twelfth king, and he wore a Ring," Helluin said, to which Gil-galad blanched. "Yea, 'twas indeed one of the Nine of Celebrimbor! In dying he vanished before my eyes and 'naught that I could do would stay him. He is a wraith, my King, one of the nine Úlairi who hath arisen."

"These things we hath seen, O King," Beinvír said, "and we hath no need of passage to Númenor to confirm them. In Númenor the last king claimed his throne naming himself Lord of the West. Surely such speaks somewhat of their mood? Going thither, especially for Helluin, t'would be as one going into the maw of Morgoth himself…indeed t'would be little more than a sentence of death."

Gil-galad sat before them in silence, unmoving, with horror etched upon his face. Númenor was fallen far deeper into the clutches of the Enemy than he had imagined possible for that once noble folk, long his peoples' staunchest allies.

As if addressing his very thoughts, Helluin said, "Save for those Elendili known long to thee I should trust none of the Dúnedain nowadays, for the greater part hath harkened unto the wisdom of the Enemy and art fallen. I should sooner go to the Black Land than the Land of the Gift, for from Mordor is flight possible, but Númenor is surrounded by the sea."

She had laid a last choice before her king, and if he proved one more time that he valued her not, than no longer would she serve the House of Finwe. Helluin had found in Arda something to eclipse even her loyalty to her people. Until the end of days, the one to whom she'd bound her heart and soul would o'ershadow for her all other ties.

The king struggled to regain his composure and for long moments said 'naught to them, yet finally, as they waited for some word he spoke.

"Of these matters must I hear all that is to be told for they art matters grave beyond the expectations of any in Lindon. Speak thy tidings, I pray thee, but first wait so I may call hither my counselors, for I deem 'tis better for all to hear the telling once than for thou to repeat thyself."

Helluin and Beinvír nodded. It would be some wait. Amongst the counselors Gil-galad summoned thither were Cirdan from the Havens of Mithlond some 188 leagues up the Firth of Lune, Galdor and a number of others from Harlond 44 leagues south across the firth, and several Men who had gone to hunt in the lands 'nigh the southern arm of the Ered Luin. These were indeed Dúnedain, Faithful from Andunië in the west of that land. Of those already in Lindon, Glorfindel was the one most familiar. Helluin and Beinvír were assigned guest quarters in the citadel, there to await the gathering.

The two felt a mixture of irritation at their delay as well as relief that the king had decided against sending Helluin to Númenor. They were glad he hadn't bid them wait on a summons of Elrond all the way from Imladris.

"Would thou hath indeed ceased in thy service to thy king?" Beinvír asked Helluin.

"Most certainly. I hath no intention to step foot again upon Númenor for any reason, and least of all for a king's whim. I know not for how long that land shalt be. Indeed I should be little surprised if the Valar sank the Meneltarma 'neath the waves in answer to the insolence of the Dúnedain." After a pause, Helluin mused, "I shalt be most curious to see these Faithful."

"They art most likely much akin to those who hath settled in Pelargir," Beinvír said. "Much like the Men of old."

"Perhaps, save that now they art regarded at home as nary more than sympathizers with the enemy and art forced thence to secret their heritage. Yet still I hath some hope for them." Though why that should be, Helluin did not say.

'Twas a full day ere all the counselors arrived at court and the council met not until the nightfall of 13 Narbeleth for many needed rest from the haste of their journey. The gathering began with a meal taken together in the feasting hall, following which the group adjourned to the same great hall in which Helluin had first introduced the Dúnedain of Veantur's crew well 'nigh 2,400 years aforetime.

The great hall had been set with a long table and many chairs, and about it sat Helluin and Beinvír, Gil-galad, Cirdan, Galdor, Glorfindel, another dozen and a half Eldar, and a party of eight Dúnedain. These included _Eärendur_**¹**, the Heir of the 14th Lord of Andunië, his wife _Almáreaenne_**²**, their elder son, _Astalwamir_**³**, and five others of their household.

**¹**(**Eärendur, _Lover of the Ocean, earen_**(ocean)** + _-ndur_**(agent in names, 'expert of') Quenya)

**²**(**Almáreaenne, _Blessed One,_ _almárea_**(blessed) + **_-enne_**(feminine agent) Quenya) **³**(**Astalwamir**,**_ Valiant One_**, **_astalwa_**(valiant) + **_-mir_**(agent in names) Quenya)

Earlier, at the meal's start, Helluin's elbow had nudged Beinvír's ribs and with a cant of her head she'd directed the Green Elf's attention to the second woman in the party of the Faithful. She was young, perhaps no more than 25, and had been introduced as the niece of Eärendur, who had come to attend the Lady Almáreaenne, and yet 'twas obvious that blood shared long aforetime still ran true. Her name was _Inzilbêth_**¹** and she was a spitting image of Helluin as she had once been, upon the westward march in her younger days. Beinvír had gulped and reflexively bit her lip; even having seen Tar-Telperien long before had not prepared her for seeing this woman now. And sure enough, she had the same blue eyes. For her part, at her first sight of Helluin,Inzilbêth had choked surprisingly gracefully on a mouthful of grilled fish ere composing herself. She had nodded to Helluin when their eyes met and had thereafter stolen glances at the dark Noldo at every possible opportunity during the meal.

**¹**(**Inzilbêth, _"Flower of the Fallen"(?), Inzil_**(flower of) + **_bêth_**(the fallen) Adûnaic. Best interpretation based on known root words in _**Inzil**adûn_, "Flower of the West", and _Akalla**bêth**_, "The Downfallen". Like Arwen Undómiel, she was the evening star of her people. This author ascribes Inzilbêth this role based on the suggestion in her name, rather than according it to the hapless Queen Tar-Míriel.)

For Helluin, 'twas almost as if she saw with her waking sight the vision from her first visit to the house of Iarwain Ben-adar, in which she'd confronted her younger self in the forest of Eriador across a gap of many thousands of years. This stranger was striking in her familiarity, and that was a testament to the blend of blood in her veins though well 'nigh 2,400 years had passed. Helluin had no doubts that her ancestry could be traced back to her own daughter Almarian through her granddaughter, Almiel.

"We must speak," Helluin had said to her softly as the company had walked from the dining hall to the meeting chamber. Inzilbêth had nodded and then followed the lady of her house to their places at the table.

Helluin and Beinvír had sat upon Gil-galad's left with Glorfindel across from them and Cirdan at the king's right. The council had begun immediately. And then it had dragged on and on and on. It seemed to the two ellith that for every year they had lived in Lebennin, they spent an hour reviewing and answering questions. This of course was after an hour spent on their bad day in Umbar and their short stay in Edhellond. By the time they came to the attempted claim of their realm by Tindomul, Helluin was on her seventh cup of wine and Beinvír on her ninth seed cake.

"My Lord, I should certainly hath recognized that Ring were it five thousand years since last I saw it. 'Twas one of the Nine upon Tindomul's finger that day. He had made a pact with Sauron and upon his death he was taken from the world," Helluin said, her patience wearing thin at the relentless and repeated queries. It had begun to remind her of conversations with the Enyd. "'Twas just as Celebrimbor had described of his fellow jewel smiths in Ost-in-Edhil 'neath Sauron's assault. Tindomul is surely now a wraith."

"I too saw of what we speak," Beinvír added, "and if 'twas that generation to whom Sauron appealed with his temptations, then t'would go far to explain why the Úlairi arose sometime ere 2250 as hast been reported. 'Twas only by the threat of Tar-Calmacil that with their master they vacated the Black Land and hath not been seen since."

"My Lord Ereinion, Murazor, or Tindomul as he was't also called, was't in his day a swordsman of great renown," Eärendur said, "and about 1880 did he sail for Umbar. Many years passed, yet whensoever he came thence again to Armenelos his prowess was't increased and ever more fell did his mood become. 'Tis reported that in the Hither Lands he acquired some power that ruled him ever the more closely. Helluin's tale explains much that hath been long wondered at amongst my people. Surely a Ring of Power would confer just such. Indeed so great had he become that I am surprised that any could o'ercome him at arms."

"Helluin is…" Gil-galad began in response.

"Bah! In 2003 he fought like a child," Helluin asserted ere she quaffed the remainder of her cup, "I regret only that I beheaded him not with the Sarchram and instead granted him a second reprieve from death. His spirit would thence hath been relegated to the Void and troubled us not again."

"Thrice did Helluin grant him mercy during their combat," Beinvír said while Helluin poured herself a eighth cup of wine, "citing their kinship from afar, yet upon the fourth opportunity she slew him indeed with a thrust of her sword. 'Twas then as he lay dying that he faded and 'naught could stay him, for his spirit had been claimed by the Dark Lord."

"And from afar did I hear his laughter as he reveled in his triumph," Helluin said, adding under her breath, "yet aforetime that craven slug fled from me." She gritted her teeth and clenched tight her jaw.

Beinvír laid a calming hand upon her thigh 'neath the table and slowly Helluin relaxed the set of her shoulders and finally took a sip of wine.

"I should ask thee after the state of things in Númenor," Gil-galad asked of Eärendur, "I pray thou can'st shed some light upon the thinking of thy folk."

The Heir of the Lord of Andunië sighed. His homeland was fraught with tension and caught up in an ever hastening whirlwind as all sought after grandeur, thus to assuage their terror of their coming deaths. 'Twas folly, anyone could see, for whether one died rich or poor, still one died at the last. Yet his people had leapt aboard the runaway cart of their kings while looking not to the crash that awaited them at the bottom of the hill.

"My Lords, 'tis much as hast been said," Eärendur began, "for whither the king leads, his people for the most part follow. So it hath been for many lives of Men. Amongst the Faithful 'tis deemed that the Shadow first came upon us in the reign of Tar-Minastir, for he, though remaining true and faithful to thee and the Valar, yet coveted the Life of the Eldar. Wistfully is he said to hath gazed for long into the West from Ormet, a tall hill 'nigh Andunië, whereupon he had built a tower of watch to ease his longing.

Since his time each king hath vied with the memory of his sire, to outdo all others aforetime in grandeur and power and the acquisition of treasure, and thereby to balm the fear in their hearts. And so they hath come to hate those of life unending, and the Valar most of all, for by their Ban they deem, is everlasting life from them withheld. The Eldar they name spies of the Valar, and thus do they vent their jealousy for the Elder Children of the One, denying contact with them and the knowledge and aid they would give. T'would be unsafe in these times for any of thy folk to go thither.

As hast been told, in the reign of Ar-Adûnakhôr 'twas proclaimed illegal for the Elven tongues to be taught, and for some time they hath not been heard in public, for by their use art Men deemed the sympathizers of our enemies. Thusly art thy folk regarded nowadays, as enemies of the king. Long it hast been that few hath come, even to our faithful houses, from Tol Eressëa, and yet longer still from the Hither Shores.

Now Ar-Zimrathon, son of Adûnakhôr, rules Númenor and he follows in his father's steps. Those who follow the false wisdom of the kings we call the King's Men, and these art ever bolder and more antagonistic to we who still hold reverence for the Lords of the West. 'Tis but a matter of time, I deem, ere we art subject to sanctions at law and even physical attack. And so I hath brought hither my family and my sister's daughter Inzilbêth in particular, for as thou can'st see, she reflects our connection to thy people most clearly." Here he glanced at Helluin and gave her a sad smile ere he fell silent.

'Twas only after another two hours and with dawn approaching that the council adjourned for the night. All were saddened at how the situation had degenerated in Númenor, for though Eärendur had indeed spoken aforetime of the growing persecution of the Faithful, 'twas only after Helluin and Beinvír spoke that the trend became unarguably clear. With their perspective, gained by observation over many hundreds of years, the slow fall of Númenor into shadow was obvious. Of them all, only Helluin and Beinvír were unsurprised.

As the company walked from the hall to their chambers, Beinvír excused herself to their rooms. Helluin sought Inzilbêth for a word after the young woman had seen Lady Almáreaenne settled for the night.

"Lady Inzilbêth, though I know the hour hast grown late, t'would greatly please me if thou could but grant me some moments of thy time," she requested.

Inzilbêth, though tired from the long hours of discussions, was also deeply curious about Helluin and wouldn't have said no so long as any vestige of her awareness remained.

"I should be glad to share a moment's company with thee, Helluin, and indeed I feel a need of fresh air. 'Tis a fine night and t'would do me good to walk in thy king's gardens. Might I coax thee thither to accompany me?"

"I should enjoy greatly the open air as well. I should be honored to accompany thee thither," Helluin said.

The two made their way through a number of passages and thence down a flight of stairs, nodding to surprised sentries and servants as they passed. Soon they came to a terrace set above the walls of the citadel, where a colonnade surrounded a garden planted with many fruit trees and fragrant flowering vines. Paths led amongst the plantings and there were benches of stone set 'neath cupolas where hung glowing lamps. They made their way to one of these and seated themselves, and for some moments simply breathed the air scented by honeysuckle and jasmine, lavender and wisteria. O'erhead Ithil shone down from the heavens a few days shy of full.

Inzilbêth reached out and cupped the pale blossom of a night blooming angraecum and its tendril-like petals quivered to the pulse of her heart transferred through her fingers. Helluin absentmindedly observed this, thinking, _'tis indeed impossible for one of mortal blood to be completely still._ The slight shivering of the flower wafted its fragrance to their nostrils. Inzilbêth inhaled deeply of the sweet scent and then sighed as she exhaled.

"Think thou that 'tis too late for our people," the young woman asked, "and that those in the West shalt reward our folly by forsaking us?"

"My Lady, I know not, truly, but the Powers art merciful and even my people were not wholly forsaken, yet great was their suffering ere they were forgiven." Helluin paused a moment and inhaled the scent of the flowers. "I believe that though some doom may indeed find thy people, yet still shalt some survive it, for I cannot believe that the One would abandon his Children utterly. In the end we must each walk our own path and keep hope."

To this Inzilbêth seemed to give thought for she sat silent looking down at her hands as they lay now in her lap. When she finally looked back up she found Helluin's eyes.

"Know'th thou that my father,_ Gimilzager_**¹**, was the son of Gimilzagar, the younger son of Ar-Belzagar, whom thou call Tar-Calmacil?"

**¹**(In _UT, Pt 2, Ch III TLoE, pg 223 _and_ Note 12, pg 227, _Inzilbêth's father is listed as Gimilzagar, b. 2630, the second son of Ar-Belzagar. Since Inzilbêth married Gimilzôr and bore their first child in 3035, this is highly unlikely. In _UT _and the _Sil, Aka, pg 321, _Inzilbêth's mother, Lindórië, is the sister of Eärendur. This is acceptable time wise, since Eärendur was Lord of Andunië during the reigns of Ar-Sakalthôr and Ar-Gimilzôr. Hence I have called Inzilbêth Eärendur's niece and invented Gimilzager, son of Gimilzagar to help make her paternal lineage plausible.)

"Nay, my Lady, I knew it not."

"Indeed 'twas so, and he a man o'er 100 years my mother's senior."

Helluin couldn't hath anticipated that the leading house of the Faithful would hath married into the leading house of their antagonists. Yet who knew the hearts of mortals or the fates of those upon Arda? Perhaps Gimilzagar had kept his faith with the West in spite of his royal family. Perhaps some great and unlikely love had flowered between him and Inzilbêth's mother, but the vast difference in their ages left her suspicious.

"Within a few years, perhaps a very few years, Lord Eärendur's father shalt call him home, for he is aged and shalt soon resign his lordship. Unlike the House of Elros, those of the House of Valandil art still true to the old ways, passing on their rule when they feel their life failing. When that time comes, I shalt return as well, for like my mother Lindórië, I am betrothed to the royal house." At the mention of this Inzilbêth shuddered as if she felt a chill draft upon her back. "Unlike my mother's generation, the current king's Heir Sakalthôr hast but one son, Gimilzôr. He is ten years my senior, already a respected mariner, and forward at arms in his father's service. He is handsome and strong, but alas, he is a King's Man, and this is not unexpected in one who shalt be king."

Helluin watched as Inzilbêth's composure began to fail. The young woman's hands clenched and twisted and a heavy sadness showed upon her features. Helluin was moved to sympathy, for 'twas as if she saw herself at a younger age facing a life abhorrent from which there was no escape.

"Like my mother I shalt be trapped at the court in Armenelos, and thence surrounded by the worst of the blasphemers and those who hate my house. For some generations now it hast been thus; that the kings keep the Lords of Andunië 'neath their influence with ties of marriage. I am to be the insurance of my generation's submission. I feel already as a prisoner awaiting sentence, and I know my sentence shalt be for life and that it shalt b-be served amongst m-my enemies…" Inzilbêth's lips quivered and when she looked back up a tear freed itself to trickle down her cheek. She sniffled and then a choking sob broke free and she forced out the last, "and w-worst of all, f-from my body shalt I be forced to b-bear yet another heir to the line of fallen kings."

Helluin caught Inzilbêth in her arms and held her as she cried o'er the bitterness of her fate. In fact she was but 24 and had perhaps 225 years in Udûn awaiting her. The present sojourn in Lindon was her last grasp at freedom, her last chance to openly be one of the Faithful, to dwell in peace with her heart, and to live in the company of Elves. For one of mortal blood, in no way would she ever more closely approach the West she loved. Helluin held her close, slowly rubbing her back and softly kissing her brow. As Inzilbêth continued to sob, she began to hum a gentle song, singing no words, but letting the rumbling of the notes in her chest vibrate and sooth the body of the broken hearted young woman. Long she continued, for Inzilbêth showed no sign of stilling from her upset, and Helluin understood that in her company the lady had spoken fears she would never voice to another mortal. Like the purr of a great cat the humming slowly eased her tension, and in her arms, Inzilbêth cried herself to sleep. It had taken a long time, for her sorrow was profound and long accumulated. It very nearly broke Helluin's heart.

_My poor, precious, distant daughter…how I wish to free thee. How I long to forestall thy doom. For thee and the Faithful of thy house, upon this day I would sink the Isle of Fallen Kings 'neath Belegaer if I but had the power. I fear I am less merciful than the Lords of the West._

But she didn't hold such power and no other answer could she find to free Inzilbêth from her fate. True, the lady could run from it, and Helluin could hide her forever in Middle Earth amongst friends. But Helluin knew that were Inzilbêth to refuse her fate, t'would trigger the wholesale oppression of her people. Long had the kings taken what they desired and done as they saw fit. None would stay his hand from redressing such an insult, for it would be perceived as an act of rebellion and the retaliation would be harsh. 'Twas this threat that kept Inzilbêth shackled to her doom like her mother before her, and Helluin could see it as clearly as she.

Twice the sentries had passed and each time Helluin merely nodded to them and allowed Inzilbêth to rest. 'Twas indeed an hour ere she passed into a comfortable sleep untroubled by anguished dreams and nervous tics. Helluin watched the moon westering and knew the night was old; dawn would find them in under an hour. When at last the dew began to form she rose and stood, carrying Inzilbêth and leaving behind the fragrant garden whose air had offered its own succor to the tormented maiden. Helluin brought Inzilbêth to her chamber and laid her upon her bed, and after pausing a moment to write a note, kissed her forehead and took her leave.

A scant two hours later, when Inzilbêth was awakened to break her fast, she felt rested and yet more, as though a great weight had settled, uncomfortable still, but bearable at last. On the bedstand beside her lay a folded page and upon it in calligraphy pleasing to the eye were words for her in the Sindarin tongue.

_Ir ni elu e-choth e-mbandril notulant._**¹**_ Min en elu e-choth e-mbandril turo drammo._**²**

**¹**(**Ir ni elu e-choth e-mbandril notulant, _When to the heart of the enemy the prisoner is brought._**)**²**(**Min en elu e-choth e-mbandril turo drammo, _Within the heart of the enemy the prisoner can strike._**)

The council continued through much of the following day, but at the break for the noon meal, Inzilbêth came to where Helluin sat with Beinvír. The Noldo had told her beloved of all that had transpired the night before and of the young lady's fate, and so when Inzilbêth joined them the Green Elf drew her into an embrace and shed tears in sympathy for her plight. To Beinvír, being forced thus into marriage to the enemy reeked of the doings of Morgoth, for she herself had long before declined to be courted and had found the mate of her fëa a thousand years later. Her outpouring of emotion cemented the more strongly upon a personal level the young Númenórean's love for the Eldar kindred. She resolved to act upon Helluin's advice, for in doing so she could fight back against an abhorrent system and retain some measure of hope.

Inzilbêth wrapped Beinvír in her arms, noting how petite the elleth actually was, and without thought for the irony of the situation, offered her own comfort much as what Helluin had offered to her in the garden the night before. After some moments she released the Green Elf and looked into her reddened eyes, her own gaze traveling o'er Beinvír's features with a visceral wonder.

_She is so very beautiful,_ Inzilbêth thought, _so strong in feeling and so fair of face and form. And in all her years she hath wisdom, yet no stain upon her heart hath grown though those years hath surely brought the knowledge of great evil. Oh how I love thee, and how I love thy people. Never hath I been so sure that my love for those in the West is right, for any power whosoever could bring forth such a one as thou surely deserves the adoration of those such as me. _

She looked from Beinvír to Helluin and was captured in her eyes; eyes so like her own, yet with a depth and wisdom borne of the millennia she could never endure. In them were power and darkness and Light, and an endless well of feeling such as would consume her spirit. And she saw there too the life she herself would hath cloven to had she been not of mortal kind. All of which she had ever dreamed, the freedom to find her course and order her days, all of it lay in Helluin's eyes.

Now Helluin felt as she looked into the eyes of her distant mortal daughter, the innocence and the native strength she had once felt while looking into her own eyes in a vision. Therein was the will to endure and the resolve to meet unbowed her fate. She could 'naught but confer upon Inzilbêth what virtue of strength she could transfer, for Inzilbêth had won a place deep in her heart.

Helluin reached out and caressed the young woman's cheek, cupping it thus and holding steady her head. Then to Inzilbêth it seemed as she were falling into a pool of dazzling blue, wherein the light of the ancient West coalesced with that of the younger sun. It entered her and filled her, and became a part of her that she would be able to draw strength from in the dark days ahead. And when it was done, for a fugitive moment her own eyes glowed with a ril of sapphire ere they faded to mortal blue at last. She blinked and shook her head.

"I feel…" she began, but then fell silent. She had no words to describe what had happened. _Elven magic perhaps,_ she thought, _and if 'tis so, then not so foreign is such, for rather it felt as an outpouring of love that might flow betwixt two of mortal kind, yet more so, but still not a thing apart._

But Helluin in those moments had felt come o'er her again the sense of vision as she had felt long aforetime while'st standing naked 'neath the Two Trees at the Mingling of the Lights, and to her had come a vision of days yet to be. Indeed such had not befallen her since she had come first to Armenelos in the company of Veantur and had seen there for the first time Nimloth the Fair, the White Tree of Númenor. And the vision confused her, for 'twas a vision strange, hinting at violence and salvation according to her own wish of the night before, and in it had stood Inzilbêth, or one like unto her in form. Yet this woman had been the wife of a Lord of Andunië, not a King of Númenor, and she had birthed a son, and of him had come a son as well, and as had Earendil in an age before, of him had come hope and a strain of ancient nobility, to be preserved in Middle Earth unto the Ages. About the vision, one thing further had she marked.

"Lady Inzilbêth, doth the White Tree of Númenor grow still in the Court of the King? Is Nimloth still tended and doth she still flower as aforetime?" Helluin asked.

Inzilbêth looked carefully at Helluin ere she answered, for the question seemed disconnected from all other concerns. Yet she answered as best she could.

"Yea, when last I saw, still did Nimloth the Fair flower and still was she tended, though in these days more for fear of her failing than from genuine love. 'Tis said long ago was't a prophecy spoken foretelling that the decline of the land is tied to the decline of the Tree. Therefore from superstition is Nimloth still held in a wary esteem, for 'tis also still remembered that from Tol Eressëa did she come, and her ancestor from Valinor, and his from the hand of Yavanna herself. I believe the Kings resent her, yet fear to do her harm."

To this Helluin nodded. She knew the prophecy; indeed she had spoken it herself well 'nigh 2,400 years before. So, Nimloth flowered still. Then this vision spoke not of the present day, but rather of some day yet to come. 'Twas just as well. The knowledge of it would darken the thought and hopes of any who heard it. Helluin would not give Inzilbêth yet further cause for grief.

The pealing of a silver bell called the company back to council. Helluin and Beinvír walked Inzilbêth back to the chamber and to the company of the Númenóreans. Again the chamber filled with debate and the discussion of tidings. When it finally ended, just ere the evening meal, Gil-galad rose and addressed the council.

"My Lords and Ladies, much hath been said and much become known. Greatly am I disturbed at those things that hath come to pass. I fear for the days to come and for the fate of the Dúnedain. Ever were they our allies and friends in days of yore. Yet now though 'twas known aforetime that some sought treasure and power, the kings hath strayed far further than 'twas suspected. They follow a path at odds with the Lords of the West, and such a course can only lead to ruin.

Long ago our people sought their fate in despite of the Valar, going against their commands and gainsaying their counsels. For that did we suffer the loss of all we sought. I fear that for the Dúnedain a similar fate shalt befall, and yet not all art at fault.

Thou who art present art the friends of our people and art strong in thy reverence for the Valar. The Faithful shalt always be welcome in Lindon, and in all the realms of my people. And if some great doom should indeed find thee, then hither shalt thou find succor and such aid as we can give. No less did thy forefathers do for we who dwell here upon the Hither Shores, and in token of this thou hath our friendship and support until the end of days."

Gil-galad's words were fair and none doubted the sentiments behind them for his heart was true in his resolve to aid the Faithful of the Dúnedain. Unto days far and long to come would the promise spoken by the High King be honored, until the High Elves held no longer any realm upon the Hither Shores. All there nodded in agreement, yet Helluin wondered what indeed the Eldar could do for Men if the Valar decreed a doom upon them for their blasphemy against the West. Would it bring the Noldor once more into conflict with the Powers? Would the Sindar and the Nandor too fall under some new Ban or Curse?

And yet the plight of Inzilbêth and her kin demanded no less, and already had not Helluin wished for a Vala's power to lay waste the Isle of Kings? 'Twas just so, and if for lack of power that vengeance came not from her hand, then it would indeed come from the Lords of the West. Helluin was sure of it. She had foreseen the hint of it in her vision.

Now when the counsel adjourned Helluin and Beinvír took their leave of Gil-galad and all the others gathered there in Lindon. Especially warm was their farewell with Inzilbêth and many were their wishes for her future. Yet the lady seemed resolved to meet her fate and there was new strength now in her and she met their eyes with a glance unwavering; queenly, they thought, and fitting for one who would wrest some order for herself and her children though she walked all her days amidst the heart of her enemies.

**To Be Continued**

12


	52. In An Age Before Chapter 52

**In An Age Before – Part 52**

_Hey folks, I'm out of town and using a slow computer, so it's a short update this time._**

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Upon 15 Narbeleth Helluin and Beinvír boarded a boat crossing the Firth of Lune, and coming thence to Harlond, took the road northeast into Eriador that evening as their shadows lengthened before them.

Now it had been 'nigh a fortnight since Helluin and Beinvír had taken their leave of Dálindir and the company at the messenger's summons to Lindon. They had left Ishkabibúl and Balar in the reluctant custody of the Green Elves, and though a naughty sense of irresponsibility had caused them to chuckle o'er their friends' predicament, they could not in good conscience leave things thus. Therefore Helluin and Beinvír debated how best now to find and rejoin that odd collection of fellows.

"I hath some suspicions that Dálindir headed thither to Nenuial shortly after we took our leave," Helluin said as they sat beside their campfire that night, "thence to rid himself first of Balar."

"Think thou that he would make his way thus, 68 leagues west, bringing Balar to the Men of Nenuial while retaining the company of Ishkabibúl yet the longer? I know the Dwarf made him nervous, for the history between our peoples, though far in the past, is one of unresolved conflict and great discomfort."

Helluin thought on this a moment. There were reasons both yea and nay for disposing first of the Man or the Dwarf.

"I should think he perhaps deemed it the lesser of two evils," she replied at last, "for otherwise would he hath been forced to confront all the Naugrim of Khazad-dum, and wherefore one Dwarf would make him nervous, a realm full of them would surely cause him hives."

Beinvír giggled at this, recalling her own nervousness during her first trip to Hadhodrond long years before. She had still half-believed that the Naugrim would try to roast and eat her at the first opportunity despite Helluin's assurances to the contrary. Dálindir would hath no such intermediary as the dour Noldo, but rather full suspicion of dire consequences ahead and a personal acquaintance of the Naugrim as enemies in battle. The ambush of the Host of Nogrod upon the banks of the River Ascar was personal history for her king, Tórferedir, and the others.

"Very well then," the Green Elf agreed, "unto Nenuial we shalt make our way, and we shalt see then if indeed my friends hath all acquired hives."

The next morning they made their way north, much as they had ere the war, passing up the eastern bank of the Firth of Lune to the River Lune and thence eastward to the Emyn Uial where Helluin had first met Tórferedir. Their way was long; well 'nigh 100 leagues to the west banks of Lake Nenuial, and even in haste it took them a fortnight of walking.

Along the way they met some others of the Laiquendi, and to these they brought tidings of the return of the king, and all rejoiced to hear their tale. Indeed when it became known that Helluin and Beinvír sought him and his company 'nigh Lake Nenuial, word went out to seek for them, and some companies of the Green Elves joined them or followed in their footsteps. Thus by the time they reached the shores of the lake and the homes of the Men upon them, scarce fewer than three hundreds of the Laiquendi shadowed their march. These remained well hidden and unseen by mortal eyes lest they be mistaken for an invasion force, yet oft they came, a few at a time, to the camps Helluin and Beinvír made, to trade tidings and greetings. The two found themselves getting very little rest.

"T'would seem we again hath visitors, _meldanya_," Helluin remarked on the evening of 30 Narbeleth. She had long since become able to sense the approach of Green Elves as she had not been able to long before. Beinvír had taught her to stop trying to "see" them and rather to "feel" for them as they did to sense each other and Helluin had found that this method worked well.

"Then at least we shalt hath no lack of victuals," the Green Elf remarked, for 'twas the custom amongst that people for uninvited guests to offer somewhat of provisions to their hosts when possible. She cocked her head a moment and then added, "Another grouse shalt be welcome."

Helluin wondered how Beinvír could tell they were bringing a grouse. She deemed herself to be doing well to hath marked the Green Elves at all, and better to hath discerned that they were three who approached. She shook her head in wonder. After 1,733 years together her companion still amazed her.

In short order there appeared three Laiquendi bearing a grouse, a skin of wine, and a sack of apples. Helluin and Beinvír greeted them and bid them sit by their fire. _A jovial trio I should say, _Helluin thought, _yet I discern not the cause for their mirth at hither campsite, one bit of forest being much like another to them and all long familiar._ But it was not the place that was cause of their light mood…rather 'twas their tidings.

"Word hath come to us this day," began the first, a slender ellon named _Cúran_**¹, **"from some of our folk to the east, speaking of the march of a contentious company that includes Dálindir. 'Twas a company most strange indeed, they said, for with them marched Tórferedir our general, and both a Dwarf and a Man."

**¹**(**Cúran,** **_Crescent Moon_**, Sindarin)

"Yet these strangers marched not as prisoners, but rather as ill-mannered guests," said the second, an elleth with hair and eyes of grey named _Hithui_**¹. **

**¹**(**Hithui, _Misty,_** Sindarin)

"Indeed so, and they had driven the others to distraction," reported the third, a mischievious ellon named _Iáúr_**¹, **"such that some bickering was evidenced, and this only abatedat the unanimouscursing of a twain of villains who share the same names as thee. Quite a remarkable coincidence, I deem."

**¹**(**Iáúr, _Mocking One,_ **_**iae**_(mocking) + _-**úr **_(intensive agent), Sindarin)

Both Helluin and Beinvír groaned as one. The three Green Elves chuckled.

"Perhaps we should make our way thither, back to Lindon," Beinvír said as if she had forgotten that it was a city.

"Perhaps we should make our way hence to Mordor," Helluin suggested, "for 'tis a land now empty, safe, and ripe for the taking, or so I hath heard of late. Even is there already standing a great dark tower in which to abide. With our reputations we should do well there, I deem."

Beinvír nodded in agreement. The three Laiquendi looked away into the darkness.

"How far to the east marched this dour company?" Helluin asked.

The three Laiquendi spoke not and indeed shuffled their feet and squirmed as they sat, appearing greatly unnerved. Helluin cocked a brow at them in question. Cúran nervously cast his eyes repeatedly o'er his shoulder. By the time the meaning of his charade became clear to her, 'twas too late for evasive action.

"Thou shalt not flee our wrath thou miserable knaves!" the unmistakable voice of Dálindir called out from a few dozen yards away. His company was stomping through the underbrush with no thought of stealth. "I doth see thee hunkered thither in comfort by thy fire, feasting and drinking, and no doubt recounting with mirth the suffering thou hast saddled us with!" He came to the campsite and stood with arms crossed and breath huffing. Beinvír actually shrank down deeper into her cloak and edged into Helluin's shadow.

"Iyam hungary," Balar ground out in poorly enunciated Sindarin.

"And I am weary of bone and foot! Were I to tread even another mile in this company my beard should go white long ere its proper time!" Ishkabibúl clamed through gritted teeth. He actually stomped his feet and stood with clenched fists, glaring at the others.

"Never hath I made so dismal a trip," groaned Tórferedir as he cast himself down upon the ground beside the fire, "for in war could I at least shoot those who afflicted me."

Gérorn and Celegaras stood a few paces off, embarrassed by this display and casting apologetic glances at Helluin and Beinvír. Cúran, Hithui, and Iáúrmade a halfhearted attempt to slip away into the shadows, but it did them no good.

"Stand ye fast thou craven revelers!" Dálindir demanded, "Thou hast been discovered ruddy handed, accosted while'st lounging hither and sharing food and shameful delight o'er the ill-fate of thy fellows, I wager. Surely thou art as guilty as they."

"But my Lord, we hath arrived but shortly ago," Iáúr protested.

"Indeed so, for see, the grouse we hath brought hither is yet unplucked," Hithui added.

"Bah," Dálindir said, dismissing their protests with a wave of his hand. "Thou was't surely the messengers of such tidings as gleefully recount our sufferings, and I find I am short of patience with messengers of late."

The three fell silent and contrived contrite expressions.

"Art weto yeat? Ever?" Balar managed to ask.

The entire situation struck Helluin as ludicrous, and with Balar's question all came to a head, leaving her in hysterics. She was soon doubled o'er in the throes of her mirth, while Beinvír looked on aghast and Dálindir in amazement. The king could hardly believe that she would discount so wholly his tirade and display so unrestrained her glee. Celegaras and Gérorn very nearly cowered in expectation of their king's wrath. Ishkabibúl regarded her askance as one with wits fled, (though she was an Elf and perhaps such was normal), while Balar simply shrugged and looked as ever to the cooking food.

Dálindir drew himself up to deliver yet further expressions of his indignation, but at that moment their company was joined by a convergence of the Laiquendi who had followed Helluin and Beinvír thither in hopes of meeting again their king. Drawn hither by Helluin's laughter and anticipating a scene of rejoicing, they had drawn 'nigh at last. In groups of a few or a few dozen they appeared, materializing from the surrounding darkness to stand in a great conclave about the small camp. A score of dozens they numbered all told, and these in silence bowed to their lost lord and then stood silent, awaiting his address. In the face of the traditional demands for a welcome to what had become, _de facto_ his camp, Dálindir was obligated to replace his coming invective with words of greeting. Shaking his head in amazement at the timing, he set aside his wrath and began.

"In friendship do I greet thee and in heartfelt welcome do I offer thee the comfort of this camp. Thy presence honors me and in thy company do I rejoice. Come ye hither then, those of kin and company and those from fellowship long sundered. Share with us thy tales and thy tidings. Share with us our provisions and fire, for in the morning even though we may part, still we shalt long hath our memories of good company shared this night."

Having finished the customary sentiments, Dálindir looked at those around the fire and sighed. Helluin was wiping her eyes, Beinvír huddled behind her with but her eyes showing from 'neath her hood. Tórferedir was lying on his side 'nigh the fire suppressing with difficulty his cackles at the irony of the situation, while Celegaras and Gérorn as ever stood protectively beside their king watching all those nearby. Balar and Ishkabibúl had attacked the food and wine with barbaric gusto, wholly oblivious of the social graces he had been forced to perform. Dálindir couldn't help but shake his head.

"My Lord, I pray thee share thy tale, for somewhat of its wonder hath reached our ears aforetime. We doth rejoice in thy return indeed, for greatly hast thy leadership been missed, and that in peace as well as in war. Our people would know aught of thy trials and whether indeed the jeopardy into which thou and thy company fell is still a threat." This plea was spoken by an elder lord of the Green Elves, one who had seen the coming of his people to Beleriand long before. Because of his honored position and the unusual circumstances he was able to ask the questions all held yet hesitated to voice, for 'twas a request for a personal accounting from none other than their king. Dálindir could hardly refuse such a request, for his tale did indeed concern the safety of his people.

"_Adar Ifant_**¹**, I understand thy concerns and they art well founded," Dálindir said, "for indeed hath I and my friends been long held as captives in a house fell and strange. In the company of Helluin did Beinvír and Gérorn and Celegaras accompany me as guests 'neath the roof of one Iarwain Ben-adar. Thither did we repair as we had done aforetime, yet we were then constrained in that time from exit. Indeed 'neath Iarwain's roof did we pass 1,733 years. That time seems to us as but a few nights, though many memories we hath of that time. Still 'naught of change came upon us, whether of age or of the fading."

**¹**(**Adar Ifant, _Old Father _****_adar_**(father) **_ifant_**(old). In this case an honorary title of respect, not an actual acknowledgement of kinship. Sindarin)

Dálindir continued on at length and as he did, so too changed his mood.

"Now come'th the end of our tale, for but a moon past did Beinvír and Helluin yet again return upon the night of our disappearance, just as they had done through many fruitless years. There they prevailed upon our strange host, and by appealing to his goodwill and demonstrating forth his shame did they at last win our release. Brave and steadfast hath they been. I owe them great thanks. None foresaw our return to the world and yet ever did they hope for just such.

I hath been wroth with them, 'tis true, for in having obeyed a summons from the Golodh King in Lindon were they forced to leave in my company, a Man of the kindred of Bëor named Balar, and a Dwarf of the Host of Nogrod named Ishkabibúl. They too were granted their release through the efforts of Beinvír and Helluin, and for lack of other courses, hath joined us upon the road."

Here he indicated the Man and the Dwarf with a gesture. The assembled Elves eyed them directly now, though they had marked them aforetime. Balar grunted and continued chewing, but nodded at the host and dipped his head to the king. Ishkabibúl merely stared back at them and then returned to quaffing his wine. Dálindir shook his head in consternation and shrugged. Then at last and to their great relief, he cast a much hoped for smile upon Helluin and Beinvír.

To Be Continued


	53. In An Age Before Chapter 53

**In An Age Before – Part 53

* * *

**

**Chapter Thirty-six**

_**Eriador and Khazad-dum – The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now when at last Balar was't introduced to the Men of Nenuial, the Elves were amazed by what transpired. Though those kindreds of Men were not so elevated as their cousins in Númenor across the sea, they too had their tales and their ancient lore. And amongst the latter day descendants of those who had once followed Beleg back out of Beleriand, there was't a recounting of the trip through Eriador that had led them o'er the Ered Luin, for it had been the beginning of that peoples' tale. To them, the march east had been but the return to a fair land seen at the end of their journey from Hildorien…a much safer home than Beleriand, which was't then rife with war. In that tale was't named Balar, the lost son of Balan the Old, and so they soon recognized the freed Man as their rightful lord, though almost two Ages had come and gone.

By that time, although his Sindarin was't still quite rough, Balar discovered that he had in common with those Men the roots of their present language, and though much changed, 'twas still closer in nature to his own speech than was't the Elven tongue. Thus he was't able to make himself understood to them, though to their ears his speech sounded astonishingly antique. Indeed by this as much as by his attire and claims of kinship did they accept his station in their society.

Upon 16 Hithui, (November 16th), S.A. 2994, the chieftains of the Men of Eriador took for their first king, Balar son of Balan, and so, like the Laiquendi, the remnants of the House of Bëor celebrated the return of the king.

In token of the part played by Helluin and Beinvír, and by the company of Dálindir, the Men of Eriador became closer in friendship with the Green Elves in that time, and though 'twas rare for them to meet, this friendship was't long retained. And so in later Ages, though Arnor rose and fell and the kingdoms of the north were defeated and restored, still the common Men, the farmers and the herdsmen, the tradesmen and the craftsmen, all held in their hearts a special reverence for the Umanyar, eventually calling them all Wood Elves, and holding them in esteem. Thereby in Eriador rose up that parallel social order, for when later came thither the Kings of Men from across the sea who held especial their friendship with the Amanyar, the High Elves, still the common folk felt more strongly their ties to the Laiquendi and the Sindar who had ever dwelt upon the Hither Shores.

Now as winter fell and the year grew old, Helluin and Beinvír undertook to guide Ishkabibúl thither to the mansions of Durin's folk. Indeed by then they felt great sympathy for the Dwarf of Nogrod, for long had he been sundered from his folk and long had he been in the company of his peoples' ancient enemies. Therefore, though a blanket of snow lay upon the ground, on 3 Girithron, (December 3rd), the three set out east from Lake Nenuial.

Now it must be told that during his stay with the Men of Eriador, Ishkabibúl had been somewhat more comfortable than with the Green Elves. These Men had no prior history of animosity with his folk, and indeed, though they had long lived east of the Ered Luin in which Nogrod and Belegost had been delved of old, still little contact had there been 'twixt their peoples. Little traffic had moved betwixt their lands, as there once had between the Dwarves and the Elves in Beleriand. Thus, when at the opening of the Second Age there had been a migration of Naugrim east to the Hithaeglir, the Men had at first regarded the Dwarves with wonder and then welcome. Indeed the two kindreds had at times acted together to drive off those few of the Yrch who had fled the War of Wrath and sought to bring their mischief to Eriador. Though such tales art few and but poorly recalled, for most of what hast been written deals with the Men of the West and the High Elves, still such was't long remembered in that land while the name of Eriador was't still heard. Unto Ishkabibúl then was't the friendship of Men extended during his stay.

For Helluin and Beinvír the trek was't less pleasant than in fairer weather, and much did they fear for the comfort of their friend, but he was't hardy after the nature of his folk, and more, he burned with desire to see at last the great halls of Khazad-dum. Still 'twas winter, and their pace was't of necessity slower than in the warmer seasons. They made an average of twenty miles a day, just shy of 7 leagues, and upon some days less.

Now the way from Lake Nenuial to Hadhodrond lay thus; 70 leagues from Nenuial to Sarn Athrad upon Baranduin, 67 leagues from Sarn Athrad to Tharbad upon Gwathlo, and thence 87 leagues from Tharbad, past the ancient, tumbled ruins of Ost-In-Edhel, to the West Gate of Hadhodrond upon Sirannon. In all 'twas 224 leagues, 672 miles, and with the inclement weather it took them 39 days.

On 11 Narwain, (January 11th), S.A. 2995, Helluin, Beinvír, and Ishkabibúl walked the curving path toward the gates upon which their friends Narvi and Celebrimbor had labored. Already those enchanted doors had stood for well 'nigh 1,450 years, and they had confounded the Host of Sauron. Under a bright winter sky, from which a chill air rushed down off the frosted heights of Zirakzigil above, the three halted at a dozen paces before the guardians of the _Ennyn Durin_**¹**.

**¹**(**Ennyn Durin, _Doors of Durin,_** Sindarin)

"I am Gotli, Captain of the Second Watch upon the West Door. Name thyselves, ye travelers abroad upon this fine winter's day," the captain of the guard asked.

"I am Helluin of the Host of Finwe, and with me art Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador and Ishkabibúl, a long lost son of the Host of Nogrod. Beinvír and I came hither in days of yore and hath the friendship of the House of Durin. Ishkabibúl hath been sundered long from his people and would seek welcome hither by thy lord's grace, thereby to join his skills to thine for the profit of thy realm. A long way we hath come and indeed our tale is very strange. I beg thy leave to tell it and I pray thou doth harken to our words." Throughout this Helluin had spoken the Khuzdul she had learned so long ago.

The guard captain eyed them carefully. Indeed Helluin and Beinvír's names were still known in many tales from the war. Their appearances and weapons were known. And no other of the Eldar still living in Middle Earth spoke their tongue. Of them he was comfortably certain. Rather 'twas Ishkabibúl who captured most the captain's attention. None had come hither from Nogrod in millennia. Yet Ishkabibúl wore raiment so outdated as to be a historical curio, and yet it bore only normal wear, while his beard was't plaited in the manner once popular in the houses of Nogrod an Age ago. There was't certainly a strange story to be heard here, and 'naught else of interest lay pressing.

Gotli nodded to his company and they formed columns to either side of the three, allowing them to march between their ranks to the door. The guards flanked them, hands upon the hafts of their axes, and accompanied them into the large chamber just within the doors. These were then shut to block the wind, save for a space of a body's width through which two sentries kept watch. Gotli gestured Helluin, Beinvír, and Ishkabibúl into an adjoining guard chamber where they were seated on benches at a long table. There they were provided with hot mulled cider and some chunks of hearty, dark bread.

"Speak now thy tale, I pray thee," Gotli asked when they were comfortable, "for too oft hath our watch been absent anything of interest. A good tale I should be grateful to hear on this cold winter's day."

Then by turns the three explained all that had come to pass, and indeed Gotli was't amazed by their rede. He questioned Ishkabibúl at length and was't yet more amazed. At 51, the Dwarf of Nogrod was't at once 42 years his junior and 5,118 years his senior. He thought about it long enough to realize that he didn't want to think about it.

"Thou shalt certainly come before the Lord of Khazad-dum, for thy tale is most strange as thou hast said, and in it art warnings for our folk, though seldom would any venture so far west in these days. Still what hath befallen thee should be known in the lore of our people. Come, I shalt send messengers and we shalt make our way thither to a council."

With that they departed the guard chamber 'nigh the gate, and Gotli himself undertook to lead them hence, eastward through innumerable halls. Helluin had made this trek more than once before, while Beinvír had only done so on their trip thither following the war. Even so her eyes flicked right and left, up and down as they passed, from time wrought cavern to delved room, to many-pillared hall. Helluin kept watch o'er her, though she was't confident that the Green Elf had mastered her fear of the Naugrim and her natural aversion to being underground. For Ishkabibúl the way was't a journey of one wonder ever replaced in its turn by another. Ere the long hours of the first day of their journey had passed, he had seen enough to know that all of Nogrod as well as Belegost would hath fitted within Hadhodrond, and yet still they had come not to the ending of their way.

"How much further art we to walk ere we come before thy lord, pray tell," Ishkabibúl asked of Gotli, for what he reckoned to be suppertime had drawn 'nigh.

"Another day's march, give or take," Gotli replied.

Ishkabibúl stooped in his tracks and stood silent in amazement, scarce believing what he had heard. He cast a glance to Helluin in question. She shrugged.

"If we art to meet in the Great Hall of Durin where I met aforetime to plead the treaty 'twixt Ost-in-Edhel and Khazad-dum, then a march of a day and a half lies before us," she said. "If, on the other hand, we art to meet in the Sixth Hall on the Third Level, then we could come thither after a march of some five hours tomorrow."

Upon hearing Helluin's words, Gotli turned to face her.

"Ahhh-ha! Therein is the lore from which I know thee," he said as he stroked his beard and nodded to himself. "I had remembered aforetime 'naught but the tales of the feasting in thy honor following the war. I had failed to recall thy embassy on behalf of the Eldar of Eregion. 'Tis still repeated though, as how thou drew forth before the lord's advisors, that gift of goodwill from Celebrimbor, a moonstone the size of a fist! Long did Durin III gaze upon that jewel, and he came to favor it highly, the more so the longer that in friendship with Eregion did his house remain. Alas those days hath long passed." He sadly shook his head.

Ishkabibúl eyes had widened at the description of the gem and yet more at the name of Durin.

"Thou knew Durin? Indeed?" He managed to ask. His sense of time was't still not wholly developed for he had missed all of the First Age and almost 3,000 years of the Second, and in his lifetime there had been tales of but one Durin.

"I knew _a_ Durin, the third of that name, who ruled about 2,000 years ago," Helluin said.

"And so upon thy first sojourn hither thou came before the lord. He did thee a great honor," Ishkabibúl said, obviously impressed even if he'd still not completely caught on.

"Indeed he did, and yet he was't not the first. The first was't a different lord, and my first visit hither was 850 years ere that, in the 131st year of this Age. I dwelt here in honor for 20 years, and in that time was't my armor made."

"'Tis fine armor sure," said Gotli, for he had seen battle in his day and could appreciate the workmanship and fit. "'Tis black, like the steel of our Black Companies, yet of finer rings and the greater craft of old."

"'Twas made from ore of a lode I found 'neath Barazinbar in that time," Helluin said, "and great indeed was't the craft of Gneiss son of Gnoss who wrought it."

"The House of Gneiss still prospers," Gotli reported, "for their fortune was't built upon _mithril_ whose value hath only increased…and their lodes 'neath Barazinbar doth still produce…" He trailed off and regarded more carefully Helluin's armor.

"I craved not such treasure," Helluin said, knowing his thought. "The real treasure I carried forth from thy mines was't the outer speech of Khuzdul, such of it as I hath learnt that thou teach to few. 'Tis a treasure I can carry and of which none may rob me. Aught else, of ores and the teachings of Mahal which I learnt in the Blessed Realm, all such did I share freely in trade."

Gotli regarded her words in silence for a time. Certainly no Dwarf would hath given up the wealth that had come of her discovery. The House of Gneiss was't rich even by the standards of Khazad-dum and her armor was worth a lord's treasure. But he could count on his fingers the number of those not Khazad, who had in all the Ages learnt aught of their tongue, even the exoteric speech. Yet even more amazing, in Aman she had met their Creator and he had taught her his craft! Even _Telchar_**¹** had but wrought in imitation of Mahal. In token of this, Gotli set his right hand upon his heart and bowed low in the formal manner of one coming before a lord, and then he turned and they resumed their way.

**¹**(**Telchar, **renownedmaster craftsman of Nogrod during the First Age. He forged the knife Angrist, with which Beren cut the Silmaril from Morgoth's crown, Narsil, the sword of Elendil which became Andúril of King Elessar, and the Dragon Helm of Dor-lomin, worn for a time by Tuor, _UT, Pt1, Ch.II, NIHH, pg 75_).

Through all this Beinvír and Ishkabibúl had remained silent, and their silence continued for some time after as they walked east 'neath the mountains.

Late that evening word reached them that their tale would be heard in the Sixth Hall of the Third Level. This was't well, for it cut short their march by almost a day. The messenger joined their board and they continued with their supper, knowing that in the early afternoon the next day they would reach their destination.

Now Helluin and Beinvír left the table after supping, and while Gotli, Ishkabibúl, and the messenger quaffed ale and chatted in increasingly louder voices, the two ellith retired to the chamber provided for them.

"'Tis a relief that dining hast proved a safer pursuit this time," Beinvír remarked.

"Indeed so," Helluin agreed, "though I wonder if 'tis but that they hath found not a reason for force feeding us as yet. Still, we hath yet to recount our tale in council," she said as a worried look grew on her face. "Mealtimes hereafter may become more hazardous, I wager."

Beinvír joined Helluin in contemplating the possibility of feasting, Naugrim style. To a worried look that mirrored Helluin's she added a lip caught and gently pulled between her teeth.

"Thou speak true," Beinvír finally said, "and now I am worried yet the more. Our tale is not one in which they shalt find much to rejoice in. I fear that rather than glutting we shalt at last be roasted and eaten indeed."

Helluin looked at Beinvír, alarmed at first with her friend's return to her old beliefs, but the Green Elf had a light of humor just to be seen in her eyes and Helluin relaxed.

"Well, I am sure they shalt find thy flesh sweet and count themselves lucky," she said.

The Green Elf gaped at Helluin a moment ere a more seductive glimmer blossomed in her eyes and she asked, "As doth thou, meldanya?"

"Indeed so, meldis meldwain nin. I hath been consuming thee for centuries and hath never tired of the feast," Helluin replied, as a matching glimmer took root in her own eyes. "Now I believe 'tis time for dessert."

'Neath the door of their chamber a glow of light grew and remained steady for some hours as it were of many bright lamps lit within. It spilled forth through the gap of the threshold and cast a _ril_ of blended silver and gold upon the floor of the passage outside. During those late hours in Khazad-dum no passing eyes marked it, and neither did the two figures within the room from whom it proceeded, for they were oblivious to aught else save the melding of their spirits and the even greater light they perceived with their minds.

Now in the afternoon of the next day the company came to the Sixth Hall of the Third Level, with its hundred columns, stout and tall, 'nigh the Endless Stair of Durin's Tower. Here were gathered Khráin son of Kûrin, the current Lord of Khazad-dum, with his advisors and many of the lore masters and chief wrights of the Naugrim. At the entrance to the hall a company of 12 guards joined Gotli and his three guests, and these marched, six upon each side, accompanying them thither until they stood before the lord. There a herald announced them with remarkably straightforward words, (much to Beinvír's surprise), and then backed away with Gotli and the guards trailing after him.

Helluin, Beinvír, and Ishkabibúl stood before the lord's throne and bowed in greeting. In return he nodded in acknowledgement of them.

"Word hast come to me of thy strange and wondrous tale," Khráin said, "and greatly do I crave to hear it. None hath come hither from Nogrod in o'er a score of centuries, and such in itself is amazing. Speak then, I bid thee, and assuage thereby my great curiosity."

"The story is that of Ishkabibúl, a long-sundered son of the Realm of Nogrod, O King," Helluin began, "and by rights should he tell it, save for those later parts in which my friend and I hath been involved. It begins long ere this Age of the world…indeed ere the rising of the sun and moon. And in that time, I deem, this thy kinsman partook of the hospitality of a stranger who proved fell. This stranger I hath met as well, and though a comical character in appearance, he commands great power; indeed, power not less than a Vala. I pray thee harken to the tale of Ishkabibúl, for it doth bear a warning to all free peoples."

Here Helluin again bowed to the Lord of Khazad-dum and then yielded to the Dwarf of Nogrod. Ishkabibúl bowed deeply to Khráin ere he began, somewhat nervously at first for the antiquity of his speech in Khuzdul.

"My Lord Khráin and ye of the noble Folk of Durin who art gathered hither; harken unto me I pray thee, for herein shalt I say my rede, speaking tidings of that which hath constrained me since the Age of the Awakening. It hath been made known unto me that hither stand I after the passing of o'er 5,100 years, in which I walked not 'neath the stars, nor saw the rising of the sun and moon. Neither did I know of the breaking of Beleriand, nor of the Fall of Morgoth, nor of the coming of Men. Upon strange paths hath my way been taken, out of time and out of the world…."

Then Ishkabibúl spoke, and long was't his telling, yet none moved nor did their attention falter. From the king to the guards, all were absorbed in his narrative, for 'twas a story strange and fearsome to the Naugrim, to be wrested thus from kith and kin, and to miss so many years from the making of profit. Though there was no way to tell for sure, Helluin and Beinvír both sensed the passage of Anor though the heavens and down into the west, then the fall of night and the rising of Ithil. They had missed both luncheon and supper and still Ishkabibúl droned on. It seemed to them that the Dwarves were as hungry for tales as for food and drink, feasting their ears with the same gusto as their stomachs.

_Whereupon our last visit I thought I should burst from my gluttony,_ Beinvír said silently when she caught Helluin's eye, _upon this day, rather shalt I starve._

'_Tis surely feast or famine in these halls,_ Helluin agreed, _and all the more difficult to bear when the tale hath already been once digested. I believe I am finding myself bored._

_I too must confess my boredom,_ Beinvír admitted as her stomach growled in displeasure. _Indeed we both must plead thus._

_Thou and thy stomach and I,_ Helluin carped, _'tis unanimous_.

The two returned their attention to the gathering, having marked the silence that had descended o'er the hall. The Lord of Khazad-dum was regarding them expectantly. Helluin blinked; 'twas obvious that they had missed something.

"Pray repeat thy question, O King?" She asked sheepishly.

"I had merely asked if thou and thy friend felt yet the pangs of hunger as doth I," the king said, "I asked if aught of thy tale lay so pressing upon thy mind as to beg delay of our meal, or if that which remains yet unspoken could wait?"

"Indeed all else may wait, O King," Helluin graciously offered, "these doings hath been since of old. 'Naught in the telling shalt change for the duration of thy board."

"That is well," Khráin said, nodding gravely, "for indeed I find that I am famished and my attention wavers from my hunger. We shalt adjourn."

It seemed that a collective sigh rose from the gathering and when Khráin rose, all rose and bowed to him as he left his throne. Then the Naugrim engaged in a barely ordered rush from the Sixth Hall. Indeed 'twas much like a battlefield rout. In moments the vast space was't deserted. The two Elves were left alone.

"Well, how d'ya like that?" Helluin muttered in irritation as she stared into the furthest corners of the empty chamber. Sure enough 'twas no one left.

"I find I like it little," Beinvír replied as she too searched for any signs of life, finally remarking in surprise, "Helluin, they hath ditched us."

Finally with a sigh, Helluin took Beinvír's hand and led her towards the entrance nearest to where they stood.

"Come, _meldanya_, I recall a dining room of sorts upon an avenue in this direction," she said before adding in an less certain tone, "or at least 'twas one there 1,300 years ago."

Indeed the dining room was still extant, and a sign in Khuzdul above the door proudly proclaimed, _The Spitted Orch_. A bas relief on the sign illustrated the concept, and 'twas very nearly an exact depiction of Helluin's impalements in Eregion during the war. She shook her head and refrained from translating the name for Beinvír, instead quickly ushering her within after merely nodding to confirm that the place indeed served food.

Inside the dining room they found long tables and benches such as were known to travelers from the common rooms of inns and taverns from Lindon to Rhovanion, save that these were lower, suited to the stature of their regular patrons. In a wide, deep hearth to their left a coal fire burned, and over it were many kettles and cauldrons hanging at various heights from swiveling rods and hooks. The smell of cooking foods was mouthwatering to the two ellith. Past the hearth stood a bar, about waist high to Helluin, where two Dwarves in aprons tended the patrons seated on stools before them. A buzz of conversation pervaded the room, punctuated by louder jests and laughter. 'Twas a merry company, and this the Elves found heartening. Out of habit they took seats at a table in the back where Helluin could watch everything, and shortly a server joined them. For a moment he looked askance at the tall Noldo's knees, bent sharply and very nearly even with the tabletop. At rest, Helluin's hands would hath very nearly trailed upon the floor. He shook his head and offered them a solicitous smile.

"Eldar," he exclaimed expansively before bowing low in greeting, "long hast it been since any of thy kindred supped hither. I am honored by thy presence, my noble guests."

"We art glad to enjoy thy hospitality, my friend," Helluin said, offering a smile, "Pray tell, what doth thou recommend?"

"Certainly the Elf Stew," he very nearly cried out, nodding enthusiastically so that his beard bobbed up and down, "nothing so tasty do we hath this day to tempt thy palettes, my honored guests. Add but a mug of ale and a loaf of bread, and thou shalt be sated indeed."

Helluin cocked a brow at him in question while Beinvír blanched in horror. Visions of Elves slaughtered and roasted immediately filled her mind's eye and her old fears rose up to disquiet her. Were they being offered a cannibal's feast by a Dwarf who perhaps thought such fare a treat to the Eldar? She felt nauseous and very nearly gagged.

"'Tis made according to a recipe proffered long ago by a guildsman of Eregion," the Dwarf bragged, "in those better days of old ere the war. Now it hath become indeed a favorite of the chef and a mainstay of our menu."

At this the Green Elf heaved a sigh of relief, while a fugitive grin curled Helluin's lips.

"Bring us two portions, with ale and a loaf as though hast said, my attentive friend," Helluin told him, "We shalt both be grateful of thy fare."

"An excellent choice, my esteemed guests," the Dwarf said, adding another bow ere he hastened to the hearth to fill a pair of bowls and draw the ale.

The fare was't indeed excellent; the stew truly scrumptious, the bread dense and dark, and the ale light and cool, and all in portions so generous that both Helluin and Beinvír were well sated ere they finished. Indeed Helluin found herself sitting, quietly watching as her beloved finished off her bowl and then turned to the loaf, consuming most of that as well in a commendable show of appetite. She had long since become accustomed to the fact that the Green Elf could put away shocking amounts of food when hungry and at ease. Oft times she ate more than Helluin herself, though she stood not quite to Helluin's chin and was still as slender as she had ever been. Finally Beinvír tipped her mug up and drained the last of her ale, then set it aside with a satisfied moan of delight. A smile curled her lips as her bright eyes slipped closed while she drew a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. She seemed the portrait of contentment…almost.

"Doth thou suppose this tavern serves those berry-filled tarts we found in such abundance at the feasts we endured upon our last visit?" The Green Elf mused. Helluin smiled at her partner's unabashed craving for dessert.

The waiter had appeared 'nigh their table and stood ready to remove their dishes.

"Tarts? Tarts thou would hath? Indeed we offer many kinds, my noble friend. What establishment could boast fine fare were they wanting for desserts? We hath tarts indeed, and cakes, and pies, and éclairs…all in many flavors, even the_melin saerin_**¹ **of Haradwaith. We hath them with frostings or not, filled or not. I pray thee, state thy pleasure."

**¹**(**melin saerin, _"bitter yellows" (lemons),_ ****_malen _**(yellow) + (pl int vowel shift)**_ + saer_** (bitter) + **_-in_**(pl) Sindarin)

A wide smile had blossomed on the Green Elf's face and her eyes brightened in anticipation. "I shalt hath those tarts filled with the sweet, bluish berries," she declared happily, "indeed I shalt hath three such, my most gracious friend."

The Dwarf smiled and nodded in approval then turned to Helluin for her selection.

"Hath thou a pastry of many thin leaves laid betwixt layers of honey and chopped nuts?" She asked hopefully.

The Dwarf stood a moment thinking, then brightened and exclaimed, "Thou means the Bâk-lavah, I am sure! Indeed, indeed! I shalt bring thee a portion, sticky with honey and o'erflowing with crumbled nuts as would incite the envy of both bees and squirrels! A fine selection and my own favorite as well. Excellent choice!"

Again he bustled off, only to return moments later with their desserts.

'Twas a happily stuffed pair of ellith who responded to the gong recalling all to the Sixth Hall for the resumption of the audience. There they found the Naugrim seating themselves as quickly as they had fled aforetime, amidst an undercurrent of muttering and whispers. All fell silent with the entrance of Khráin, who stood a moment while the assemblage bowed ere he took his seat upon the throne.

"We hath heard the tale of Ishkabibúl, and a wondrous tale indeed it hath been," Khráin began, "yet much also came to pass outside the walls of Iarwain's house that weighs heavy upon its resolution. Therefore I pray thee, Helluin and Beinvír, who art our friends of old, speak now and recount for us these doings as they were seen from without."

And so the two filled in those details they could, and their perspective completed the picture of the threat of Iarwain Ben-adar. From the day of their first meeting, through all the years they had fruitlessly returned thither, and finally thence to their liberation of those within the house Helluin and Beinvír spoke. Many bright eyes followed their words, for as the Eldar art wont to do, they painted pictures with their voices in the minds of all who harkened to their words. Though they tried to be succinct, still night passed to morn and thence to day ere they finished, yet even so, the assemblage listened as if they were spellbound. And when the last of their tale was't said and they stood thus before the Lord of Khazad-dum, then they fell silent and for some time none were heard to breath.

At last Khráin shook himself as one coming from a dream and stood.

"My friends, thou hast graced us with an amazing tale well told. Indeed I am astonished. Never in all my years hath I heard tell of such a strange power as this Iarwain doth wield. I am thankful all the more this day for the fastness of the mountains and the strength of our halls. There art many dangers in the world, I deem, but behind our doors we hath been safe, in war and peace, and even against the strength of Sauron. Here, in these ancient mansions, none can come against us. Here is the sanctuary and the strong place of our people until the world is changed."

At his conviction many nodded in agreement. Khazad-dum had already stood for o'er 7,000 years. Those of the present generation believed it well 'nigh impregnable and even Helluin herself was't mostly convinced. No enemy greater than Sauron yet walked the Hither Shores and he had failed to enter the realm of Hadhodrond 1,300 years before. And Khazad-dum had only grown stronger since the war. No, 'twas doubtful that any who came to assail the Realm of Hadhodrond would breach its defenses.

"The danger of Iarwain 'tis akin to that of a spider in whose web the unwary shalt be taken, not to the menace of the snake that invades warm burrows to seek after its prey. In our lore shalt we note Iarwain Ben-adar, and any traveling Eriador shalt be wary," Khráin declared. Then he cast his eyes upon Ishkabibúl.

"I offer thee the welcome of the Halls of Durin, Ishkabibúl of the host of Nogrod, for though long sundered, still thou art of our people and indeed some from thy mansions came hither long ago. I bid thee join us and prosper in thy trade."

To this Ishkabibúl bowed though he would rather hath leapt for joy. All he had known aforetime was't long gone from Arda, yet he had found a home. Helluin and Beinvír were happy for him. None could know that all would one day come to ruin and that ruin would come from within rather than from without. Indeed Durin's Bane lay already deep within the foundations of the mountains, biding its time as it had done ere the changing of the world. It waited in shadow and fire 'neath Barazinbar, Caradhras the Redhorn, where the lode Helluin had found long before led down into the darkness.

One thing further came to pass during the time of the ellith's visit to Hadhodrond. Ere Helluin and Beinvír took their leave, Gotli, Captain of the Guard of the Ennyn Durin sent word to them, and a parcel was't delivered unto them in his name, for he had given much thought to the needs of Elven warriors abroad in the wide lands of Eriador. To Beinvír he gifted a pair of long, curved fighting knives, white handled and with blades patterned upon the Elvish style of Eregion in days of yore. They were scarcely shorter than her sword, yet lighter and quicker in her hands. And to Helluin he sent nine arrowheads of _mithril_, exquisitely formed leaf points bearing the tradesman's hallmark of the House of Gneiss.

**To Be Continued**


	54. In An Age Before Chapter 54

**In An Age Before – Part 54

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**Chapter Thirty-seven**

_**Númenórë Atalantë – The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now in S.A. 3002, Eärendur was't recalled to Númenor to take up the lordship of Andunië, and with him across the sea went his party and the Lady Inzilbêth. After delaying so long as she could, she wed the King's Heir, Gimilzôr in 3024 and in 3035 bore to him the first of their children, a son and heir who was't given the name _Inziladûn_**¹**.

**¹**(**Inziladûn, _"Flower of the West",_** Adûnaic)

Ar-Gimilzôr came to the throne in 3102 and proved as ardent a blasphemer as had been foreseen. Like his sires he made no offerings to Eru upon the Meneltarma, and during his reign the Hallow atop the sacred mountain lay deserted. In the courtyard before the citadel of Armenelos stood Nimloth, the ancient White Tree of Númenor, and Gimilzôr was't loath to approach this symbol of his peoples' old friendship with the Eldar. Though the king commanded no harm to the tree he ordered no care for it either, ignoring its existence entirely so much as he could. A scant eight years into his reign the use of the Elven tongues was forbidden by law. In his time too was't that land closed to the Eldar. Any who received mariners from Tol Eressëa were punished. Never again would one of the Elder Children of Iluvatar enjoy official welcome in the Land of the Gift.

The twenty-third king knew his wife's heart and his distrust of her and all her people he never disguised. The Lords of Andunië, for all their loyalty to the House of Elros, had long been sympathetic to the Faithful and retained their reverence for the West. Ar-Gimilzôr openly despised the Elendili, and his hatred of the Valar and the Eldar was't most easily expressed through his persecution of them. While he constrained the allegiance of the Faithful as had his father, by taking a high lady of the House of Andunië to wife, he was't yet more suspicious of them than his sire, Ar-Sakalthôr had been. The old saying, _keep close thy friends and closer yet thy foes_ soon led him to decree the forced relocation of all those Elendili known to him, from Andunië in the west to Romenna in the east, the primary port of the King's Men and seat of the King's Navy. There they were settled upon the lands above the great bay, and there they were both shunned and kept under the eyes of the king's spies.

Yet many of those removed thus to Romenna were great amongst the captains of Númenor, for in many of the sons of Andunië still flowed the blood of Elros. A nobility too had that people, steadfast and antiquated, that harkened back to that of the founders of their land, and though fallen from favor, still they commanded a grudging respect from those who did not wholly disregard them.

Long after the Eldar ceased to be welcomed to Númenor, ships of the Faithful sailed to the north of Middle Earth, seeking there the Havens of Mithlond and the court of the high king in Lindon. For long their ships came and went bearing tidings and bearing thither those Men who still desired to learn and converse and feel free to meet with the Eldar. In later years such voyages came to be voyages of self-exile, for once gone to Lindon, by royal decree the Faithful were not allowed to return. Thus it came to pass that many Elendili dwelt in Eriador about the Firth of Lune, while the King's Men sailed ever for the lands south of Umbar.

In Armenelos Lady Inzilbêth kept her faith. For all the long years of her life she was't an inspiration to the Elendili, for in the heart of the enemy she planted a seed of rebellion. In no way did she convert from her beliefs despite the pressure of her husband the king. Decade after decade she resisted him, and while she did her duty as queen, (never undermining his authority by speaking out against him), no part of her heart was't turned in sympathy to his counsels. In many ways she offered succor and support to those of the Faithful she could aid, but her greatest act of dissent grew closer yet to the heart of her enemy, for never had she forgotten the words that Helluin had written to her in Lindon.

_Ir ni elu e-choth e-mbandril notulant. Min en elu e-choth e-mbandril turo drammo._

Two sons did Lady Inzilbêth bear to Ar-Gimilzôr. As hast been said, the elder was't named Inziladûn, and as his name reflected that of his mother, so too were the lady's convictions reflected in those of her son. From the first, the Heir of Gimilzôr held in reverence the Valar and the Eldar, and though never could he profess such to his father, he was't in his heart one of the Faithful. When he came to the throne, Númenor would as of old have a king who sought not to defy the Powers in the West and usurp the gifts of the One. He would be the first since Tar-Minastir.

Of other aspects doth history report somewhat on Inziladûn; that he followed his mother in appearance as much as disposition is known, and that he learned aught of ancient lore and wisdom such as led to his reputation as a seer. Indeed none since Tar-Anárion had studied so closely the ancient scrolls in the library of the palace. More dear than this were the accounts of his mother, who had for a time in her youth dwelt in Lindon. These tales he treasured, for in all the days of his life, never did he set foot upon the Hither Shores. Only in his youth ere the ban did he ever meet face to face with any of the Eldar, and this was't upon a few family trips with his mother to Andunië, the ancestral home of her family. There still in those days were wont to come a few ships out of the Lonely Isle, some of the last to venture to the Isle of Kings.

Now in 3044 when Inziladûn was't nine years of age, his mother gave birth to a second son, Gimilkhâd. This son was't like to his father in name and temperament, being proud, willful, and resentful of the West. As the two princes grew to maturity many amongst the King's Men looked to Gimilkhâd for leadership and oft 'twas whispered amongst them that he should hath been king. Yet despite the precedent of usurpation set in the days of Herucalmo, none dared oppose so flagrantly Inziladûn, not even Gimilkhâd, for in the elder prince's eyes was't a flicker of light and wisdom, and ere even his teens passed, all too oft his pronouncements of dooms came true. Though Gimilkhâd opposed his brother such as he might all the days of his life, he was't restrained by that same fear that had given rise to the Númenórean's hatred of the Lords of the West; in him and in all the King's Men lay that fear of death that was't felt not by his elder brother, or his mother in her time.

In mid-3050, when Ar-Gimilzôr learned of the pregnancy of Eärendur's wife, the king sought again the chambers of his own spouse. His hope was't that his queen would bear to him yet a third son, one through whose marriage he could bind a daughter of the Lord of Andunië for another generation. Lady Inzilbêth however produced a daughter, born in 3051, whom she named Almiel, in honor of the youngest granddaughter of Helluin and Veantur, who had married Numandil, grandson of Valandil, the first Lord of Andunië. 'Twas a case of symmetrical irony, for rather than a daughter, Eärendur's wife had given birth to a son in late 3050, whom they had named Númendil.

The Lady Inzilbêth lived 274 years; 67 years longer than her king. Indeed her life was't longer than any royal since Tar-Ardamin who had died in 2899, the last king to take the scepter with a Quenya name. It was't long enough for her to enjoy many peaceful years after her detested husband fell into senility; long enough to witness the ascension of her son to the throne in 3177, and even long enough to see the birth of her two great-great-grandsons, Isildur and Anárion. It was't also long enough to see the death of her younger son Gimilkhâd. Mercifully, it was't not long enough to see the death of her elder son, Tar-Palantír, the 23rd king. And the Lady was't spared knowledge of the usurpation of the throne by Pharazôn son of Gimilkhâd and the forced matrimony of her grand-daughter, Tar-Míriel.

When Inzilbêth felt her age come upon her, she gave up her life in S.A. 3244. With her dying vision she beheld again the face of her distant foremother as she had seen it on an afternoon in Gil-galad's garden in Lindon in her youth. Then into that everlasting blue she looked and saw there again the Light Undying, and into it she willingly let herself fall. As her spirit fled Arda and her last breath escaped her lips, they curled into a grin.

Now the rule of Tar-Palantír, The Farsighted, ran from 3177 to 3255 and during his reign much more freedom from persecution did the Elendili enjoy. In Armenelos the White Tree was't tended and at the customary three times of the year did the king present offerings to Eru at the Hallow upon the summit of the Meneltarma. In his later years especially, much time did he spend in the western province of Andustar in the company of his closest counselor, his brother-in-law, Numandil, the 17th Lord of Andunië. Oft would he climb the ancient Tower of Minastir upon Ormet, and there gaze with longing into the West, hoping to see some sail borne upon a ship out of Tol Eressëa, and to meet again as he had in his youth with mariners of the Eldar. Yet none came to Númenor in those years, nor would again, save one that would come to Amandil in the early days of the reign of Ar-Pharazôn.

Despite the repentance of Tar-Palantír, the greater part of the Númenóreans followed the King's Men and in their hearts were little changed from aforetime in the reign of Ar-Gimilzôr. When Gimilkhâd died in 3243, the leadership of the King's Men came to his son, Pharazôn, a mighty captain of ships and the campaigns of conquest in the Hither Lands. Many allies he bought with wealth plundered from the southern fiefs in Middle Earth, and these he added to those allies who already clove to him. Ere the death of Tar-Palantír he was't mighty amongst the Númenóreans, and yet he sought ever after even greater power.

In those annals passed down from Númenor 'tis recorded that Tar-Palantír had but one child, a daughter Míriel, born in 3117. Upon Tar-Palantír's death the masses supported Pharazôn and he was ripe with desire for the scepter. Thence, though the law forbade it, he wed his first cousin Míriel and seized the throne. And under his rule were the greatest of blasphemies committed and the honor and nobility of Númenor was't destroyed. Ar-Pharazôn was't the twenty-fifth and last king of Númenor, and in his greed and fear he was't caught by one yet more evil still, and with him fell his people, his power, and his very land.

Now Ar-Pharazôn usurped the throne in S.A. 3255, and at first he was't content with the long held obsessions of his forefathers; the unending search for yet more wealth and ever greater power. But he had left many loyal Men upon the Hither Shores, for many were the cities and subjugated realms of the Númenóreans in those days. He himself had in days of yore been their commander ere he returned home upon the death of his father in 3243, and much intelligence and many tidings and the words of many spies came to his ears in Armenelos.

In the dozen years of his absence had Sauron recommitted himself to the destruction of the Dúnedain, for his hatred was't given to them for their part in the war, and though 1,550 years had passed since his defeat, avenging himself upon the mariners from across the sea was't still foremost in his mind. Therefore he came against Umbar and those other places further south, sending against the Númenóreans many Men out of the East who had worshipped him since he had vacated Mordor in the days of Tar-Calmacil.

Oft to Sauron's ears o'er the years since his defeat had come tales of the increasing grandeur of the Men of Númenor, and Gorthaur despised them all the more, and yet he understood them more fully than they understood themselves, for none craved power with a greater desire than the fallen Maia. Therefore he goaded them and enflamed their pride, fearing not their hate, for none wallowed in hatred as did he. And thus as a challenge and a taunt to the king who would extend his influence o'er all mortal lands and all the Men within them, Sauron publicized himself with the title _Hír Edain_**¹. **Indeed he chose the word _edain_ for its special application to Men of the Three Houses of the Elf Friends of old, rather than using the more generic word _firionin,_ which signified allmortal Men.

**¹**(**Hír Edain, _Lord of Men, _****_hir_**(lord) + **_edain_**(Men pl.), (gen. const., of) Sindarin).

When Ar-Pharazôn heard tell of this he was't wroth, and so well indeed did Sauron know the king's mind that he was't goaded to war. Long he brooded and he command the forging of arms, the building of ships, and the marshalling of Men for battle, for he determined in his pride to visit upon Sauron not only defeat, but servitude as well.

Pharazôn persuaded himself that one day his triumph would include the subjugation of the great Enemy of his forefathers, for by dominating him and calling him vassal, he would outshine all those who had ever ruled o'er the Isle of Kings. To him alone would Sauron be compelled to swear fealty, yea, even upon his knees, for in an Age before, Sauron's master, Morgoth Bauglir, had pled for mercy and awaited his judgment thus before the throne of Manwe. No act would so aggrandize his own rule than the like compelling of his Age's evil before his own throne. Thereby would Pharazôn elevate himself into the company of the Elder King whom he so envied.

Now the armament of the Dúnedain proceeded, and in 3261 the king deemed his strength sufficient and his might supreme. Thence he himself took ship and his armada sailed from Romenna, darkening the waves and stealing the wind for their sails. In 1700 the Navy commanded by Ciryatur had numbered 344 vessels and upon them had come 100,000 to wage war. Pharazôn's flagship sailed at the head of o'er 900 warships, and to Middle Earth marched an army of almost 225,000.

Never since the days of the War of Wrath had so great a force landed upon the Mortal Shores. So numerous were their sails that watchers espied them long ere they came to haven in the Bay of Umbar. All who saw the might of the Númenóreans fled their rumor and the lands of Haradwaith lay silent and deserted when Pharazôn landed. Even the spies of Mordor quaked in terror at the might of their enemies from across the sea and would not remain at their posts, but rather fled back to the Black Land bearing tales of doom to their master. Sauron was't amazed, but standing in his tower of Barad-dûr he chuckled and dismissed them. A finger he stroked 'round the cold band of gold as he took it from his hand while he whispered words of a fell sorcery and it vanished from mortal sight. And then he waited.

In that time, Umbar was't the greatest haven upon Mortal Shores. There had been built quays and docks with a total measure of o'er thirty miles in length. But so numerous was't the flotilla of Pharazôn that despite their haste, still it took three days to offload all the Men and material brought from Númenor. The great bay was't black with the hulls of their ships and the city was't filled to o'erflowing with their numbers. A camp was't set beyond the walls of Umbar and it spread o'er sixteen square miles, within a palisade four miles to a side. But finally the army was't landed and its support organized and Ar-Pharazôn was't ready to march upon Mordor.

Now as hast been elsewhere told, the vanguard of the Númenóreans marched for seven days, and this was't the foremost of the cavalry, numbering 35,000 knights. Like a river of sparkling diamonds did their column flow across that land with Anor's brilliance reflected off their polished mail and plate. Long lances they bore, tipped with bitter steel, and many were the banners of gold 'neath which they rode, for they had forsaken their old heraldry of the White Tree upon a field of blue 'neath a rayed star. Upon every hour as they rode the heralds proclaimed the coming of Ar-Pharazôn, _Héru Atanion_**¹**

**¹**(**Héru Atanion, _Lord of Men,_** **_héru_**(lord) + **_atan_**(man) + **_-ion_**(pl gen suff, of), Quenya. Note that this title would have been announced in the Adûnaic tongue had it been intended for mortal ears, for by this time the use of the Elven tongues was forbidden by law. But Ar-Pharazôn's purpose was to usurp the title Sauron had taken for himself, and he did so using the High Elven tongue traditional in his own country and most hated by Gorthaur.)

Behind the vanguard came the remainder of the armies on horse and foot, marshaled into three hosts of o'er 60,000 apiece. The lands trembled neath their hooves and boots and the clouds of dust they raised choked the light of the sun. The vanguard, wherein Ar-Pharazôn rode with his bodyguard of 5,000 traveled 'nigh on 350 miles northeast ere they stopped. They were then about 50 miles north of the River Harnen that flows from the southern arm of the Ephel Duath, down from the Nargil Pass, and they were still perhaps 100 miles from the Black Land.

Then Ar-Pharazôn commanded a camp be made, and upon the tallest hill his pavilion was't raised, and within it was't set his throne. 'Twas another full day ere all the companies arrived and pitched their tents, gold for the retainers of the royal house, blue for the cavalry, and white for the infantry.

Each dawn, and at every hour thereafter until nightfall, a fanfare was't blown upon a thousand trumpets, and thence the heralds proclaimed the command of Ar-Pharazôn the Golden, that Sauron should come before him forthwith to swear fealty to the king.

Now all this Sauron had seen, and in his Black Tower all was't revealed to his sight. But Sauron was't astonished at the majesty to which Pharazôn had ascended and the might to which the Númenóreans had attained. All about him his servants quailed in fear, and the armies of the Rhûnwaith were cowed by the rumor of the Dúnedain. Therefore Sauron left his land, committing its rule in his absence to his Úlairi, and he came alone before the king. And there he saw a Man besotted by his power, rampant in his need of compensatory grandeur, and terrified of death. Here indeed was't a Man he could use.

Before the throne of Ar-Pharazôn, Sauron the Maia bent his knee, and humbling himself he did the King of Númenor honor, subjugating his sovereignty and pledging his service. But Pharazôn mistrusted the honeyed tongue of the beautiful and ageless youth who stood before him in his chromed armor, and deeper still he desired to refresh each day of his life with the knowledge that he alone of all mortal Men had commanded the allegiance of one undying. Therefore he demanded that Sauron become hostage for his own conduct, and though Gorthaur protested this with feigned displeasure, at last he acceded to the demands of the king. Then in the depths of his heart Sauron chuckled as he had aforetime, for all the easier now would be his vengeance upon the Dúnedain.

In 3262 the armada returned to the Isle of Gift, and upon the flagship rode Sauron Gorthaur as a hostage, yet already he had gained somewhat the ear of the king. For Ar-Pharazôn, ever craving after power, found that he was't drawn inexorably to the fallen Maia, one undying who in Ages past had accompanied the most powerful upon Arda. In this the One Ring had no small part, insinuating from afar the desire for Gorthaur's company into the heart and mind of the Lord of Númenor.

In Armenelos the influence of the hostage grew ever the greater, and as the years passed Sauron became first a counselor and then chief counselor to the king. This he achieved within only three years, for he built lie upon lie and sweetened all his words with flattery. To all this was't Ar-Pharazôn susceptible, for in his own mind he deserved all praise that might be spoken and 'naught was't too high that it could not be believed. At court the Men supplanted by Sauron in their king's favor curried the favor of the hostage and sought his grace, thus to retain their influence. Alone amongst all the king's advisors, only Amandil, the eighteenth Lord of Andunië, abhorred the blasphemies and inequities Sauron spoke, and he alone kept true his counsels to his liege. For this he fell from favor and was't dismissed from court.

Not long after the arrival of Sauron Gorthaur did Amandil withdraw from Armenelos to Romenna, and with him went his son Elendil, and his grandsons, Isildur and Anárion. Though 'twas known that their sympathies lay with the Faithful, Amandil had been since childhood a dear friend of Pharazôn's, and both Amandil and Elendil were in their own right, great captains of ships. Therefore, though they no longer held the favor of their lord, they had much respect amongst the people, and none assailed them nor sought their persecution.

In short order did Pharazôn come to depend upon the wisdom of his hostage, but all that Sauron spoke was't seeded with lies. And Pharazôn succumbed as the years passed, and he came to worship the Darkness and its lord, Melkor, and he raised in Armenelos a great temple to the Vala who was't the Great Enemy of the world. Therein were sacrificed many Men, some brought as prisoners from the Hither Lands, but more taken from amongst the Faithful, besmirched upon false charges for the sake of purging the land of dissent. Yet ere the smoke of Men wrongly slain rose to the heavens, the first fires were kindled with the hewn wood of Nimloth, the White Tree of Númenor.

Now as hast been told in many accounts, when 'twas known that the Tree would be felled, Isildur son of Elendil acted where none other dared. In secret he slipped into Armenelos and he came upon an autumn night to the Citadel of Elros, yea even unto the court where aforetime Helluin had stood and laid her hands upon Nimloth o'er 2,600 years before. Long had the Tree been untended, yet upon that night it bore a fruit upon a white limb, and this Isildur took and fled. But not cleanly did he escape for an alarm was't sounded and he was't forced to defend himself with his sword, and he took there many wounds. Yet at last his flight was't achieved and he came thither to Romenna with the fruit of Nimloth, and this he gave into the hands of his grandfather. There was't the fruit blessed by the Lord of Andunië, and Amandil planted it, and it sent forth a shoot in the spring as Isildur recuperated, though the infirmity of his wounds lingered until the first leaf opened.

The years passed in a fruitless and evil quest for escape from death, and ever the most desperate in this quest was't Ar-Pharazôn the king. As his 200th year approached he felt his age come upon him, and he had not forgotten that his own father Gimilkhâd had lived not quite 200 years. Therefore all the greater did his fear become and all the more pliant was't he to the suggestions of Sauron. And now Sauron whispered constantly in his ear, tempting him and at the same time taunting him, for he said that 'twas the grace of the Undying Lands that conferred immortal life and this was't withheld from Men by the Valar who had lied to his kindred about this matter just as they had lied aforetime about the supremacy of Eru. And yet 'twas for a great king such as he to take that which he desired, and none upon Middle Earth were so great as Ar-Pharazôn the Golden, and none more deserving.

Then Pharazôn, being thoroughly persuaded by his fear and Sauron's tongue, acted upon the delusions gifted him by the fallen Maia, for he had as ever heard that which he desired to hear. Thus in 3310 did he again commence an armament, and if his navies and armies had been grand aforetime, now they grew beyond all reckoning. O'er 900 vessels had he brought to Umbar in 3261; within nine years well 'nigh 1,500 warships had been made ready. Indeed they were so many that the Bay of Romenna had not the room to contain them and soon the port of Eldalondë and the Bay of Eldanna and the Bay of Andunië were filled. And though Pharazôn for long spoke not of his purpose, such a mustering of Men and such a deployment of ships upon the western coast of Númenor hinted at naught but an invasion, and the only prize lying to the west was't Valinor.

Amandil was't horrified, for he went in secret to his ancestral homeland of Andunië, and there from the Tower of Minastir upon Ormet he beheld the armada of his king. Then he knew the days of Men were indeed numbered, for if turned not from his folly, his old friend Pharazôn would chance a thing not even the most forgiving of the gods would countenance. Amandil fled back to Romenna praying for the death of his childhood friend and knowing that hope was't in vain, for a great doom long appointed lurked ever nearer with each passing day.

Now when Amandil came again to Romenna he called his son Elendil to him and he counseled him to heed his words concerning the coming days. Heavy was't his heart for he loved his king and his land, but more, he loved his family and the Lords of the West.

"I commit now unto thee the Lordship of Andunië, my son," Amandil said, "for upon myself do I take a take an embassy in faith and hope. Dark grow the days and dark shalt be the doom of Men, for Sauron hast poisoned the mind of the king with his lies and led him to folly. Ar-Pharazôn seeks after the phantoms of his hopes, and driven by his fear of death would seek to wrest the grace of Life Undying from the Valar with war. My heart tells me that he is doomed to fail, for what Man may impose his will upon the will of those who created him? Yet perhaps some grace may still be obtained for Men, and thus seeking the mercy of the Valar shalt I go into the West, even as did our forefather Earendil long aforetime."

"Then with thy deed thou woulds't betray thy king?" Elendil asked. "Long hath the King's Men charged us as spies and worse, yet ever hath their words been untrue. With thy act would thou give credence to the falsehoods that brought many Faithful to their deaths upon the Melkor's altar in Sauron's temple."

"Nay, my son, for no word from the lips of Men doth Manwe need for his knowledge of what goes forth. He sees all and even now his Eagles circle the Meneltarma where no king hath gone in many long years. Nay, I go not to betray the counsels of our king, but to beseech the Elder King for aid in dismissing Sauron and perhaps even to turn thither again to the Lords of the West the hearts of the kings. My loyalty to my king must, as in the hearts of all who would be true, be subservient to that loyalty which was't ordained by the One, before Arda and the Children of Arda ever were."

"What then, father, shalt become of those few of the Faithful who remain? Surely the persecution of them shalt be great when thy deed is known."

"For this reason must it not become known," Amandil said, "and to conceal my purpose shalt I sail first east as if to Lindon. In these times none shalt hinder my sailing; indeed most shalt rejoice to be rid of me. Then if the winds of Belegaer be with me, I shalt turn about and sail into the West. Yet thou should not feel certainty for the success of my errand, and even were I to come to Aman, none may harken to my plea for the sins of our people art great.

Take no part in the deeds of the coming days, for in doing such would thou also be damned. But when I am gone, prepare thou ships of flight, and upon them take thy family and those Elendili who would join thee, and also such treasures as thou would be loath to leave behind, and then stand off out of port to the east. Go not to the west lest thou be conscripted to join the armada, but rather remain in the Bay of Romenna, and if any ask thy intent, say that thou woulds't follow thy father and sail to the east."

"Yet thou shalt hath gone into the West, my father," Elendil protested, "and what then shalt I seek to the east?"

"That I cannot say, my son, for I may succeed of my errand or I may fail, and of either outcome, perhaps no sign shalt declare. Yet in my heart I feel a great doom approaches and all shalt be swept away, for this land is corrupt and the hearts of Men art heavy with sacrilege. Therefore thou shalt flee some restitution of the Valar, I deem, seeking a haven and a place of exile, but where thou shalt find it, or even if thou shalt find it, I cannot say, yet I bid thee, do these things, and let guide thy heart the same hope and faith as guides mine."

Then Amandil took a small ship, scarce more than a cutter that could be manned by few hands, and with three favored servants he sailed from Romenna and was't never heard from again. And if indeed he died upon the sea or came yet to Aman and there succumbed to the Ban of the Valar, in either case did he die with his heart unsullied and he suffered not that which was't to come.

In that time Elendil heeded his father's counsel, and he gathered such of the Faithful as remained, and with his family prepared ships upon which to flee such doom as might come. Under his command were four ships, and under his elder son Isildur three, and under Anárion two. Upon them were stowed away such families as called Elendil the last Lord of Andunië, for in the absence of his father the lordship passed to him. Yet he took not that title, refusing to believe that Amandil was't lost.

Along with his people, great treasures were loaded aboard ship; many scrolls of lore and wisdom, rich works of the cunning craft of Númenor, ancient heirlooms such as the Ring of Barahir, the _Elendilmir_, the _Rod_ _of Office of the Lord of Andunië_**¹**, Elendil's sword Narsil, wrought by Telchar of Nogrod in the First Age, and many gifts from the Eldar to the Lords of Andunië. Amongst these were the Seven Seeing Stones, the _Palantíri_. But of all the treasures esteemed by the Faithful, none was't more highly valued than the seedling of Nimloth, the last living thing to come from Eldamar, and of all living things brought hence out of the Blessed Isle, ever had it held a place of honor.

**¹**(The **_Elendilmir_**, or Star of Elendil was described as a white gem bound in a silver circlet that later served as the Crown of Arnor. The**_ Rod of Andunië _**was a silver rod, a token of office passed to Elendil by his father Amandil ere he sailed west, which was later known as the _Scepter of Annúminas_ and became the chief symbol of the kingship of Arnor. _LoTR, _App A, footnote, pgs 1018-9)

At last when all was't in readiness, Elendil journeyed in secret from Romenna, and following in the footsteps of his father, came at last to Andunië and the Tower of Minastir. There he ascended, hoping to see some sign that Amandil had indeed succeeded and come into the West, but no sign was't given and no sail came up out of the sunset. Elendil's keen eyes could discern naught but the armada of Ar-Pharazôn; ships gathered innumerable 'nigh the western coasts, their hulls stretching off beyond the Bay of Andunië and into the south towards Eldalondë. Elendil marked that the banners upon them were now of black and gold; black for Sauron and gold for the king. Then, knowing time was't indeed short and his presence might easily be discovered, he turned in sorrow and made his way back to Romenna amidst pelting rain and sleet.

Now it hast been written elsewhere that as the days drew on to the sailing of Ar-Pharazôn's armada, the weather of Númenor, which had aforetime been ever fair, fell to gales out of season and destructive storms that slew Men with their lightning and winds. In those days were ships lost upon the sea as had not been aforetime, while upon the land, crops failed and discomfort became more common. With the coming of the year 3319, forms took shape in the clouds, and this was't most common ere sunset, when out of the western sky flew great thunderheads like in shape to the Eagles of Manwe. Vast they were and threatening, crowned in darkness, ominously advancing to cover the sky, and bearing lightning in their talons. Seeing this, the Faithful cowered, taking it for a sign from the Valar and an omen of doom.

All these portents Sauron defied, and even did he defy the lightning that smote his temple, and greatly did his display of fearlessness hearten the King's Men and embolden the king. Upon the first day of spring, when in days of old the king would hath ascended the Meneltarma to offer the prayers of _Erukyermë_**¹**, the very ground commenced to shaking and a rumble was't heard throughout the lands. The earth groaned in protest of the sacrileges done upon it and smoke billowed from the ancient Hallow as though Manwe had withdrawn his sight in disgust. With Sauron counseling defiance in the face of this craven bullying by the Valar, Ar-Pharazôn turned his back upon the signs and finalized his plans for war.

**¹**(**Erukyermë**, the first of three yearly holidays traditional in Númenor, its purpose was to beseech the favor of Eru during the coming year. _UT,_ Pt 2, Ch I,AdoN, pg_ 166_).

Upon the twelfth day of Lothron, (May), did the fleet set sail into the west, and upon Belegaer did they make their way, but no wind aided them in that hour, yet many slaves rowed the ships to the beat of drums and the lash of whips. Then night fell after a sunset red as blood, and a wind grew to hasten them upon their blasphemy.

Now of that sailing no more was't known upon the Hither Shores, but only the effects afterwards that were felt. Yet in later days, what with the passing of some few east to the Mortal Lands, these things became known in the lore of Men and Elves.

The armada covered the sea and its hulls were like a continent, and in that time did they passed the Sea of Shadows and the Isles of Enchantment that had been set there at the beginning of the Second Age. For thirty-nine days they sailed. The ships of Ar-Pharazôn came to Tol Eressëa and passed it by, and they made their course for Valinor and the Pass of the Calacirya. Then, though tales say that the king hesitated for a time at his landing, in the end his pride allowed him not to falter. Ar-Pharazôn debarked and his host followed, and he claimed the Undying Lands as his own and his soldiers occupied the country about Tirion. In the unnatural and pervasive stillness he waited, and doom pressed in about him like a stifling blanket of night, but unlike his coming aforetime to Umbar, here none answered his challenge. All of the Eldar had fled inland and upon that day the gods were silent.

Now lore tells that Manwe and the Valar set aside for a time their rule o'er Arda, calling upon the One for His judgment. And in answer, Iluvatar changed the form of Ea for his wrath was great. By His hand was't a rift cloven, and it yawned amidst the Sundering Sea, and this cleft lay 'neath the waves, betwixt the Undying Lands and 'nigh the western coast of the Isle of Kings. Into this abyss was't sucked all the waters east and west, and their flow carried away the armada of Ar-Pharazôn, destroying it utterly, even to the last timber and spar. About Tirion there came a thundering fall of rocks, an avalanche from the towering walls of the Pelori, and 'neath its tonnage was't the army of the king buried to the last Man.

In the upheaval the island of Númenor was't riven to its foundations, and the bedrock of the Meneltarma foundered, and ruin came indeed to that land. The abyss swallowed all the Land of the Star, and with its fall came a wave higher than the tallest tower, and as the land fell away the water rode up to swallow it. Gone were the fair country of Nisimaldar and the proud Tower of Elros; gone too was't the Meneltarma, sunken to its summit, and with it the queen, Tar-Míriel who had fled thither too late. All the nobility and beauty that had been of old the heritage of the Atani perished with the Land of the Gift, for the gift of the Valar had been squandered through fear and pride, and what little of its wisdom came to the Hither Shores came with those few refugees who made their brokenhearted landfall after many wearisome days of desperate sailing.

From the wreck of Númenor came nine ships only, and upon them rode Elendil and Isildur and Anárion and their folk. These were the Faithful who had taken ship at the counsel of Amandil and had awaited their doom in the Bay of Romenna. They had refused the call of the king to his muster, and after his sailing, they had avoided the soldiers who came to seize them for sacrifices at Sauron's command. There too they were spared the tide of falling water that drew the armada to its destruction, and there too were they sheltered from the great wave that o'erwhelmed their land. But with that wave came a howling wind, stronger than any gale, and it drove their ships east with great damage, and long did they wander upon the sea.

Now that wave carried on unchecked, and as a racing swell it passed o'er Belegaer, but when it found the coasts of Middle Earth, then the shallows concentrated it and it rose again to a great height and wrecked destruction upon the shores. Many upon the coasts of Middle Earth felt the rumor of the wrath of Eru; ships, havens, and seaside settlements were lost. 'Twas felt in Belfalas and Lebennin, in Umbar and in the lands to the south. But Lindon, well up the Firth of Lune, and Mithlond at its head were spared, and to them came tidings by other means, for to Lindon, sorrowful and tired and careworn, came at last the four ships of Elendil. The tidings of the destruction of Númenor came also to the haven of the Faithful upon Anduin, for eventually to Pelargir came Isildur and Anárion.

But other changes did Eru make, and these greater still than those that became known as the Whelming of Númenor, though that tale survived in the myths of many lands and many people spoke long afterwards of the lost land of _Atlantis_**¹**. For in that time did Eru altar Arda forever, even more so than had been done when Beleriand was't sunk. All the Undying Lands did he take from the realm of Ea and they were hidden from mortal sight, and thereafter none might find the way hence save those of the Elder Children who had the grace of the Valar to sail the Straight Road thither. By his hand was't the world made round, and afterwards all roads curved back upon themselves and no Straight Road into the ancient West still opened from the world of Men. Yet it had an entrance still, and though hidden, might still be found with the straight sight of the Eldar or more rarely through the mischance of some hapless mortal mariner. And though no tale tells of it, when Aman was't wrenched from the world and Arda was't bent, those who had in their hearts still a piece of their ancient home felt keenly their estrangement from it. All those few of the true Calaquendi remaining in Middle Earth were stricken in that hour with the agony of loss, and the more their _fëar_ had encompassed the Light of the Undying Land, the more strongly did they feel their severance from it. 'Twas as if a comforting and familiar presence had been torn from them.

**¹**(**Atlantis, **Westron for the Quenya **Atalantë** and the Adûnaic **Akallabêth,** the**_ Downfallen_**)

Upon the Re i Anaro of S.A. 3319, in the land of Eriador beside the River Baranduin, Helluin cried out in anguish and collapsed where she stood, her hands clutching at her heart and her face frozen in a grimace of pain. Beinvír leapt to her side but could discover no cause for her affliction and no word could she coax from her beloved's lips. Helluin was't paralyzed and catatonic and she remained thus until nightfall. When at last her paralysis released her she curled into a fetal ball, groaning in heartfelt loss as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"_Vanwas," _she whispered at last, _"I Cala Ambarwa vanwa._**¹**_" _

**¹**(**Vanwas. I Cala Ambarwa vanwa. _It is gone. The Light of the world (Earth) is gone. _****_Vanwa_**(gone) + **_-s_**(subj pron suff, it).**_ I_**(def art, the)+ **_cala_**(light) + **_Ambar _**(Earth) + **_-wa_**(assoc, of) + **_vanwa_**(gone)Quenya)

"What do you mean, _'the Light of the world is gone'_?" Beinvír asked in horror. She stared around into the darkness of the surrounding forest. It all looked dark to her.

"Valinor…'tis gone…I…I cannot feel it anymore." Helluin shuddered. "Something horrible hast happened, _meldanya_…something terrible …."

**To Be Continued**


	55. In An Age Before Chapter 55

**In An Age before – Part 55

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**

**Chapter Thirty-eight**

_**Belfalas and Lebennin – The Second Age of the Sun**_

By the morn of 22 Norui, (June 22nd), Helluin was't fit to travel; indeed she was't frantic to do so. She reasoned that as the anguish she felt for the loss of her connection to Valinor had to do with the Blessed Realm, she would be best served in seeking out he who had most recently quit Aman. Thus Helluin and Beinvír made their way west to Lindon, seeking their old friend Glorfindel. With fine summer weather they kept a quick pace; indeed Beinvír hadn't found herself nearly jogging to keep up of her partner's longer strides in many years.

"Helluin, thou shalt run me to my death in thy haste," she chaffed on the third day of their journey. They had already covered well 'nigh a hundred miles and were upon the road approaching the White Downs.

"Wherefore art the king's messengers with their horses when one is needed?" Helluin muttered under her breath, but she slacked somewhat her pace.

Indeed that afternoon they were met upon the road by just such. A company mounted and riding in haste 'neath the king's banner came to a halt before them and one amongst them dismounted and approached.

"Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, thou art summoned to Lindon to the court of the High King of the Noldor. Ereinion son of Fingon commands thy presence and counsel as soon as may be. Thou art not…"

"…at liberty to refuse," Helluin finished, cutting him off, "and if that be Beinvír of the Laiquendi," here she glanced at her friend and rolled her eyes, "she too is summoned save without word of command. I know, I know. Indeed we art already headed in haste for Lindon."

The messenger nodded and remounted. Horses were provided for Helluin and Beinvír, but the Green Elf instead chose to ride behind her partner and the last horse remained unburdened. Riding hard, the company made 20 leagues a day. On the second day they came to Mithlond and there took ship for Forlond and the king's court.

Now it seemed the messengers had been picked for their errand because they had been born in the Hither Lands and had never set foot in Aman. In coming to Lindon the travelers immediately saw others who were agitated and ill at ease. These were Amanyar who, like Helluin, had come forth from Valinor in the Exile of the Noldor.

In short order Helluin and Beinvír made their way to the high king's halls and there they were ushered straightaway to the study Gil-galad favored for his close counsels. Seated there were only Gil-galad and Glorfindel. Both rose in greeting and then the high king motioned the two ellith to sit. When all were seated he poured them cups of wine.

"I am glad thou hath come," Gil-galad said, "for a matter hast arisen that affects many of my folk and I believe it hath affected thee as well." Here he examined Helluin closely as if trying to discern some change in her ere he continued. "At the noon hour upon the Re i Anaro were all those who hath come hither from Valinor stricken in various measures, yet to all it seemed some loss unknown had been endured. Then to my ears came the report of Glorfindel, the mightiest amongst us and most recently come from Aman, and he claimed thence that from the world the Undying Lands hath been taken. I pray thee tell what became of thee upon that day, Helluin, and what thou felt."

For some time Helluin was't silent. _So,_ she thought, _Glorfindel too had been affected and had discerned the same cause. _Breaking her silence she said, "My Lord, upon the Re i Anaro was't I stricken indeed, driven from my feet in agony unrelenting and I was't o'erborne by a sense of loss that haunts me still. I too felt bereft of that which hast ever been a comfort and a part of my very being. I felt as if the Light of the World had been taken from my sight, leaving me in a darkness from which my fëa could not escape."

"O King, upon that day Helluin was't paralyzed and unable to move 'til after nightfall, and laden thence with such depth of sorrow as I hath not seen afflict her aforetime," Beinvír said.

Gil-galad nodded. He could only imagine the suffering of the Calaquendi. He himself had felt nothing, but he had been born in Beleriand hundreds of years after the Exile and had never set foot in the Undying Lands. Helluin's debilitation sounded every bit as bad as what his friend Glorfindel had described. And no healer in Lindon had been able to do aught to relieve his suffering. The king was't now sure that he had called upon the right person.

"Helluin, I am sorry for thy suffering," Glorfindel said. "Thy condition sounds much akin to that which I suffered. In that time I too felt a part of myself wrenched away. I should like to search for it with the_Fëa Hendi_**¹**. Will thou aid me?"

**¹**(**Fëa Hendi, _Spirit Eyes_** Quenya)

Helluin considered the request for only a moment ere she nodded 'yes'. After a quick look to reassure Beinvír of her safety, she gazed steadily into Glorfindel's eyes. The room faded and its sounds stilled as their concentration became fixed upon each other. In the blue of Helluin's eyes a glow grew to match the golden _ril_ in the eyes of the Lord of the Golden Flower, and between them a link was't formed that anchored their _fëar_ to their _hroar_**¹ **as they traveled beyond the physical realm.

**¹**(**hroar, _bodies, _**pl., Quenya)

Now as hast been elsewhere told, for those of Elven kind, the mind at rest is free to wander upon the roads of memory, there to contemplate that which hath brought woe or to relive that which hath brought joy. Yet always in these times art the fields visited those seen aforetime in life. The pure fantasies and imaginings of mortal dreams art a gift of Iluvatar to his Younger Children. Therefore when the Eldar seek to visit some place to which they hath not journeyed in waking, an anchor is needed and a second Elf provides that grounding through a link between their_ fëar_. It can only be achieved by those of great power and 'tis only appropriate amongst those close in friendship or kinship, for the two become as companions upon a journey unknown and must depend upon each other and coexist in harmony.

So on that day in Lindon, Helluin, born ere the Eldar came ever to Aman, and Glorfindel, twice born upon the Blessed Shores, combined their power and sought for the Light of Aman within the circles of Arda, and they found it not. In but moments it seemed, the two recoiled from their link and sat panting and blinking in horrified wonder. At first neither spoke, nor did their eyes focus upon the room or their two friends who sat anxiously beside them. Yet finally they began to recover.

"'Tis gone indeed," Glorfindel gasped.

"Whence…" Gil-galad began to ask.

"All the world hast changed beyond any dream of the Elder kindred," Helluin whispered. "The lands and the seas upon it art changed and even its form hath been transmuted."

"Valinor lies now nowhere within its bounds," Glorfindel resumed in awe, "and Arda is bounded upon all sides by Ilmen and the Void. Unimaginable is the power of the Hand of Iluvatar."

"My Lord, we upon the Hither Shores art indeed alone. Of Valinor we marked but a gate enchanted, and that far to the west, leading thence from the sea into the higher airs."

"If, as thou say, Elvenhome is indeed taken from the Circles of Arda, then art those of us upon the Hither Shores forever stranded in Mortal Lands, or is that far gate which thou marked a portal yet open to the Eldar?" Gil-galad asked.

Helluin turned to her king with an expression of shock.

"That gate one still hoping to come to Valinor might chance. I know not for sure."

"More still we marked, my Lord," Glorfindel added, capturing the attention of the king, "for upon the western seas we saw not any trace of Númenórë. Elenna hast vanished utterly and the sea hast become broad beyond where it lay. And there art lands too yet further still, empty and unknown aforetime."

"And above these unknown lands and seas art strange skies and strange stars," Helluin said. "Indeed the world lies greatly changed."

Thereafter none spoke for some time, but each sat alone with their thoughts, silently contemplating in amazement and wonder what such changes might portend.

"The world is changed; this we now know," Glorfindel said at last, "and gone from it art the Undying Lands. Gone from the Circles of Arda is the Light of Aman, yea a step further from our people than even when it lay across the Sundering Sea…" He trailed off into silence again, and then with a heavy sigh continued. "'Tis not the world in which our kindred first awakened; indeed it hast not been since the breaking of Utumno. This we knew. But now this change is greater by far than the sinking of Beleriand, and to me, it signifies all the more the quickening of the Fading."

"Aye," Helluin agreed, "time runs ever on. Bit by bit and in ever greater bites is all we knew taken from the world. The stars ever fade. The lands and seas change their forms. Someday no place familiar shalt there be, and in that world we shalt hath no place."

"Thou should call hither those of the Elendili who art in these lands and speak to them of our findings," Glorfindel softly suggested to his king. Gil-galad reluctantly nodded in agreement. 'Twas his duty and an uncomfortable one at that.

In the following days the High King spoke to those of the Faithful of Númenor who had come in exile to Lindon and great was't their sorrow. Predictably some captains resolved to sail in search of survivors, for at all times were many of their folk upon the sea. Thus upon 30 Norui, (June 30th), S.A. 3319, the ship _Ráma Nárova_**¹** weighed anchor in Mithlond and sailed for Belegaer. They would traverse the coasts of Harlindon and Minhiriath, and then make their way to points further south, eventually coming to Pelargir upon Anduin. Aboard her went Helluin and Beinvír, seeking for tidings and survivors, for they had also begged transport to Belfalas, there to see such impact as had been upon their friends, Celeborn and Galadriel and the Men of Lebennin.

**¹**(**Ráma Nárova, _Wing of Fire __ráma _**(wing) + **_náro_** (fire) + **_-va_**(assoc sing suff, of) Quenya)

Once past the southern point at the mouth of the Gulf of Lune they began to see destruction. 'Twas obvious that the coast had been ravaged by a tidal wave of great ferocity. The further south they traveled the worse the damage became. They found the shoreline of Minhiriath littered with toppled trunks and uprooted trees. On 10 Cerveth, (July 10th), _Ráma Nárova _docked at Lond Daer Ened and found that haven deserted and washed o'er by massive waves. Stones were displaced, walls collapsed, and no work of wood remained. They resumed their journey the next morn with the tide.

From the rail of _Ráma Nárova, _Helluin and Beinvír watched the coastline of Enedwaith slip behind them. None of the villages of the indigenous fisher folk had survived. They passed the mouth of Sîr Angren on the 16th and the damage increased as they made their way yet further south. The two ellith could only imagine the total obliteration of the ancient city of King Lenwe and they hoped their friends had somehow survived.

Ahead they viewed with growing clarity, the westernmost arm of the Ered Nimrais, hazy in the distance and rising against the sky. It stood out upon a long cape that jutted 125 miles into Belegaer. Ere they came within ten leagues of it upon the 20th they shook their heads. Not a single tree remained standing between the shore and the mountains. 'Twas a scene of desolation. _Ráma Nárova _rounded the cape on the 22nd and the captain made their course due east from due south. On this side of the cape the coast followed even more closely the mountains and the land well into the foothills was't swept clean by the flood. 'Twas naught but mile after mile of barren, drying mud to be seen.

The despair of the two ellith grew as the days passed. On the 24th the ship passed the mouth of the River Lefnui and began to survey the coast of _Anfalas_**¹, **backed inland by the approaching _Pinnath Galin_**²**. To their astonishment the devastation seemed to lessen somewhat as they made their way east towards the combined mouth of the Rivers Morthond and Ringlô. The rivers found the sea at the Cobas Haven where an indent in the shoreline sheltered the city of Edhellond as the coast turned south.

**¹**(**Anfalas, _Long Coast, _****_an(d)_**(long) + **_falas_**(shore) Sindarin) **²**(**Pinnath Galin, _Green (Ridges) Hills, _****_pi(nd nn) _**(ridge) + **_-ath_**(coll pl suff) + **_g(a e)len_** (green) + **_-in_**(pl suff) Sindarin)

On the morning of 27 Cerveth the_ Ráma Nárova_ passed a Númenórean hull cast upon the rocky shores, but 'twas only a hulk, dismasted and riven 'neath the waterline, and it had been stripped. At noon that day they came at last to Edhellond.

Now the astonishment of all was't immense, for though there was't indeed damage to the quays and piers and a few vessels had been cast up and crushed in the surge, the city stood at least partially and much of its structure was't intact. Helluin's eyes traveled o'er the evidence before her in amazement. No, Edhellond hadn't escaped unscathed, but it still existed where by all rights it should hath been wiped from the map. The sea wall was't breached and Lenwe's tower fallen, but many other lesser buildings, particularly those furthest inland, appeared untouched. But most welcome to all to their eyes was't the sight of many Elves and Men working hard together to repair what they could and salvage what they couldn't. The city was't alive and bustling.

The first mate of _Ráma Nárova _hailed the harbormaster and he bid them drop anchor 'nigh the foot of an avenue that led directly to the citadel. There was't no quay as yet and any coming ashore would of needs convey themselves thither by boat, but there was't welcome to be found and tidings to be shared.

Great was the rejoicing of Helluin and Beinvír when they met in the still standing armory, the Lord and Lady of Belfalas and their daughter Celebrian.

"Welcome, friends of old, and if our accommodations art somewhat diminished in grandeur, never greater hath been our joy at meeting," Celeborn said as the two approached.

"I too hath great joy at our meeting," said Helluin when she straightened from her bow of greeting, "for o'er many days we hath sailed from Lindon seeing 'naught but destruction upon many shores. Greatly did we fear for thy wellbeing. Indeed thy land hast been blessed."

"That the Valar hath been merciful to us we hath no doubt," Galadriel said, "for many reports hath come to our ears of destruction. Much worse was't wrought upon the coast of Lebennin, and yet from that country hath come much aid. Great art the hearts of that people."

"That land enjoys not the sheltering of thy haven," Beinvír said, "and perhaps the sole blessing is that no large ports or cities lie upon the strand. Nowhere in Lebennin art large populations subject to the whim of the sea."

"What news from Lindon, pray tell," Celeborn asked, "how fare the peoples of Ereinion and Cirdan?"

For long they spoke of their concerns. Galadriel too had felt the loss of the Blessed Realm, but all were amazed at the news of the reshaping of Arda. Amazed as well were they that Númenor was't gone.

"Not seven days past did a ship come up out of the west, 'tis said," Celebrian told them, "and this a ship of Númenor badly damaged at sea. Indeed 'twas one of five and its captain beached it upon the coast to the west." Helluin and Beinvír nodded, having seen the wreckage from the deck of the _Ráma Nárova._ "A few of our people hath told that those who sailed in that company then scavenged from it all goods, and in their four remaining ships made their way east.

In the last day some few coming to us with aid out of Lebennin hath told that four ships indeed rode up out of the sea, greatly damaged, and barely limped into port at Pelargir. 'Tis rumored they art great lords amongst the Dúnedain. The Faithful there do them high honor…or so 'tis said."

"I must see these Dúnedain," Helluin said, "and those we came hither with shalt desire to see them all the more."

The next day they took ship again, and _Ráma Nárova_ set her course in haste for Anduin. Spirits were indeed high amongst the crew, for these were the first survivors of whom any tidings had come. On 30 Cerveth _Ráma Nárova_ entered Ethir Anduin and for most of the 31st rode upstream to the city that Helluin and Beinvír had allowed the Faithful to build in 2350. There in the evening they docked, but long ere the lines were tied off, the Men of the crew had marked the battered and sea worn hulls of the four ships out of Númenor. The quay was still a mile off when the first cheers broke out, for the watch had seen upon the broken foremast of the nearest ship, the tattered standard of the White Tree on its field of blue 'neath a rayed star, the heraldry of Númenor of old, abandoned by the kings and retained only by the House of Valandil and the Lords of Andunië.

**To Be Continued**


	56. In An Age Before Chapter 56

**In An Age Before – Part 56

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**

On 30 Cerveth _Ráma Nárova_ entered Ethir Anduin and for most of the 31st rode upstream to the city that Helluin and Beinvír had allowed the Faithful to build in 2350. There in the evening they docked, but long ere the lines were tied off, the Men of the crew had marked the battered and sea worn hulls of the four ships out of Númenor. The quay was still a mile off when the first cheers broke out, for the watch had seen upon the broken foremast of the nearest ship, the tattered standard of the White Tree on its field of blue 'neath a rayed star, the heraldry of Númenor of old, abandoned by the kings and retained only by the House of Valandil and the Lords of Andunië.

Ere they had lowered their gangplank to debark, a company of the Guardians of Lebennin was drawn up and the mariners were hailed, but as friends, for they sailed 'neath the banner of the High King in Lindon. Then the captain answered, saying that they had come indeed from Lindon in search of survivors of their native land which they believed had ceased to exist, and would meet if they could with those who had sailed upon yonder ships.

The captain and his officers, along with Helluin and Beinvír, were ushered by the Guardians to an inn near the docks, and there they were bid to wait while those they sought were summoned. After about half an hour a party of Dúnedain entered the common room and were directed to their table.

Two Men there were amongst them, one a century in age, the other a decade older, and both were lordly of bearing though careworn from many hard days at sea. Dark haired they were and grey-eyed, and tall and hale as the great sea captains of old. Helluin swallowed her surprise, for they reminded her of none so much as the young _Peredhil_, Elrond and Elros, though they were indeed mortal Men. They greeted the captain of _Ráma Nárova_ as old friends long sundered, but the captain and his officers bent upon one knee to them and bowed their heads.

"My Lords Isildur and Anárion," the captain said, "we art thankful for the Valar's mercy and blessing upon thee and our hearts sing to find thee safe."

"Come, my friends, rise," Isildur said, the smile still bright upon his face, "never did we think to find such welcome faces here in the south. I had thought thou sailed for Lindon when thou left Romenna five years past. Pray tell, hath thou instead made thy homes hither in Lebennin?"

"Nay, my Lord Isildur, for indeed to Lindon did we come, and there we hath enjoyed the welcome of the Elven King since. But through some enchantment the High Elves hath discerned great changes in the world, and more, they say Númenor is no longer. We hath seen great destruction upon the coast 'twixt Lindon and Anduin, the result of some mighty cataclysm at sea, yet we know not what it might be. We hath come south searching for any who might, like thou, hath been spared and come thence to these Hither Shores."

"Indeed a cataclysm at sea there hath been, and greater than any I could hath imagined aforetime. And indeed we hath been spared and much do I hath to tell. It should come to the ears of the Eleven King, but as thou hast come hither from his lands, tell me first, hath thou had any tidings of my father, Elendil, or even of my grandfather, Amandil? Lord Elendil too set sail, but from us his ships were separated early in the voyage."

The officers remained silent and some looked down, unable to meet the brothers' eyes. But the captain said, "Nay, my Lords. No word or sighting of thy father, Lord Elendil, had any known when we left upon 30 Norui. I can only pray that he hath come since to Lindon, for it hast been a month since we left. Never hath we heard aught of the Lord Amandil."

Isildur nodded and Anárion said, "We ourselves came hither but five days ago for our way was't hard, and perhaps our father hath fared likewise upon the sea. We shalt keep hope that he and his folk art safely landed elsewhere. I thank thee for thy tidings."

"We hath much else to speak of," Isildur said. "Let us speak now of what hath befallen our homeland across the sea and what the Eldar hath learnt of Arda since."

For some time he had cast glances at the two Elves and most at Helluin. Now when he and his party took seats with the officers of _Ráma Nárova,_ he found himself across the table from them. Helluin gave the two brothers a nod of respect, remaining with her head dipped for a beat ere she looked up again. Beinvír offered a smile to each of the Men.

"I should swear thou bear a resemblance to one known long aforetime to me," Anárion said to Helluin, "though thou art much younger than she was't in the days when I knew her…"

At his words Helluin raised a brow in question. Beinvír grinned having heard the like more than once aforetime. Isildur gently elbowed his brother, drawing his attention.

"She is of the Elder Children of the One, not one of the Elendili of Lebennin," he said gravely. "No guess of her true age may such as we make."

Anárion looked more closely at Helluin, now noting the pointed tips of her ears and the light in her eyes. He gulped. Having been born o'er a hundred years after the Eldar were forbidden to come to Númenor by Ar-Gimilzôr, he had never before met an Elf.

"Forgive my impudence, my Lady," Anárion said.

"I hath heard such aforetime and perhaps such a claim even hast grounds in blood," Helluin replied. "There is nothing to forgive, Lord Anárion. Pray tell, with whom doth thou feel I a share a resemblance?"

"He speaks of the late Queen Inzilbêth," Isildur reported. His brother nodded in agreement.

Helluin recalled with the clarity of Elven memory the beautiful and doomed young woman she had comforted in the garden of Lindon 324 years before.

_My poor, precious, distant daughter…how I wish to free thee. How I long to forestall thy doom. For thee and the Faithful of thy house, upon this day I would sink the Isle of Fallen Kings 'neath Belegaer if I but had the power. I fear I am less merciful than the Lords of the West._

The Lords of the West had laid the same doom upon Númenórë, but for different cause. Helluin had to blink and swallow ere she could again speak.

"I knew the Lady Inzilbêth in her youth, in Lindon ere she returned to Númenor to wed Ar-Gimilzôr. I know not what befell her after save that it could not hath all been bad, for thou art here."

The two brothers nodded in acknowledgment of her compliment. For one of Faithful heart like their great-great-grandmother, marriage to the king had been a long and distasteful sentence. They had known her for only a few decades ere her death, and those were in the years after Ar-Gimilzôr had died. To the young brothers she had always seemed so strong of heart and so unshakable in her beliefs.

"Tell me, I pray thee, how art thou related to the Lady Inzilbêth?" Helluin asked.

"We art her great-great-grandsons through maternal blood, for our great-grandmother was't Lady Almiel, the Lady Inzilbêth's third child and only daughter. She married the 17th Lord of Andunië, our great-grandfather Númendil. My Lady…?"

Anárion had stopped and now stared uneasily at the tear that made its way down Helluin's cheek. He marked that her eyes now seemed focused far away.

_Lady Inzilbêth had known,_ Helluin thought,_ or ere she named her daughter she had learnt her history_. Beinvír laid a hand on Helluin's thigh 'neath the table and gave it a comforting squeeze ere she answered for her partner.

"Fear not, Lord Anárion, for thou hast committed no trespass. Only is it that long aforetime was't Almiel the name of her granddaughter. I hath no doubt that name was't given in tribute by the Lady Inzilbêth, and perhaps in token too of her hopes for better times."

At this Anárion sighed with relief but his elder brother looked again at Helluin with a more acute glance.

"My Lady, might I know thy name? I wager thou dids't indeed share a tie of blood with the Lady Inzilbêth, but that tie is far more ancient than I deemed at first."

"It is indeed, Lord Isildur," Helluin said, "and I share too a tie in blood with thee and thy brother, perhaps more than one. I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel."

"Far more ancient indeed," Isildur whispered. "The name of Almiel hath graced the House of Elros but twice, and the first time was't almost 2,600 years ago. We art indeed related upon at least two counts. Thy blood hath long infused the noble houses of the Dúnedain." He turned thence to his brother, saying, "As I said aforetime, _'no guess of her true age may such as we make'_. Indeed if I recall my histories aright, her life began long ere Men ever awakened in Hildorien when the sun and moon were yet young. She hath succored our houses ere Elenna rose from the sea." He then turned back to Helluin and bowed his head, and his brother did likewise.

"Honored and fortunate do we count ourselves to hath met thee, distant foremother," Isildur said, "and much do we desire to speak with thee, for now we art come to Middle Earth and it hast long been said that none know it better than thou. Likewise we would give an accounting of ourselves to thee for the knowledge of thy king. Great evil came to pass in Númenor and a great doom fell upon it for incurring the wrath of the Valar and the One. All that is past, 'tis true, but one enemy remained in Armenelos and we know not his fate. He was't thy enemy too. Will't thou harken to our rede?"

Helluin and Beinvír both had a sinking feeling at the Man's words. _So, the Isle of Kings had been destroyed because of some wrath of the Lords of the West?_ Helluin thought it had been a long time in coming. _But what straw had broken thus the horse's back and brought down the doom of Númenor at last?_ The two ellith nodded their interest in hearing Isildur's tidings and the captain beckoned the inn keeper o'er to order drinks.

"Ar-Pharazôn brought Sauron the Deceiver to Númenor as a prisoner?" Helluin asked after listening for some time to the brothers. Her incredulity knew no limit. "What upon Arda was't he thinking? 'Tis a wonder Sauron waited for his old age ere he contrived to estrange thy people totally from the West." She shook her head in amazement.

"All who hath welcomed him he hath destroyed," Beinvír added. "Knew thy people not of Gorthaur's deceit of Celebrimbor? He hath undone Númenor as he undid Eregion aforetime. Whyfore thought thy king that he had such resources to resist that which the grandson of Feanor could not?"

"'Tis done for whatever reason," Helluin sighed. Across the table the two Men hung their heads even though they'd had less than nothing to do with Ar-Pharazôn's blasphemy. She could see only one excuse for coming within a thousand leagues of Sauron, and that was to slay him as quickly as possible.

"Doth thou think such a cataclysm hath slain him?" Anárion asked hopefully.

'Twas an interesting question. Helluin had her hopes yet her heart misgave them. In her opinion water could not quench the Imperishable Flame of which the Ainur, Vala and Maia alike, were endowed. She wondered if a flood could even destroy the body in which Sauron had cloaked his spirit. And if it had, would he not then simply form another with his will? In her experience his werecraft had been great, and now he had the One Ring.

"In truth I know not," she said after consideration, "yet I hath my doubts despite my hope. Perhaps his flesh perished indeed, but his spirit? In my heart I feel that he shalt trouble us yet again someday."

Now after long consultation 'twas decided that _Ráma Nárova_ should make her way back to Lindon bearing tidings of the safe landing of the company of Isildur and Anárion at Pelargir. The brothers would also send upon that ship an embassy to the High King of the Noldor. Later regular communications would be established up and down the coast. As for Helluin and Beinvír, they would stay a while in Lebennin to counsel the brothers about the Hither Lands.

'Twas two weeks after their first meeting when Helluin and Beinvír ushered a company of Elendili from Pelargir. In that company went Isildur and Anárion and many Men of their houses and of the Faithful of Pelargir. North up Anduin they rode, and on the third day came to the foot of Mindolluin where the Emyn Arnen to the east forced the river close to the Ered Nimrais in a bend to the west. There they stopped and made camp.

All about them lay the tilled lands of northern Lebennin, bountiful and green in early autumn. Crops neared their time of harvesting and fruit was't plentiful upon the trees. The weather held fair and in the mornings Anor blessed the snowcaps of the tall peaks to the west with a blush of rose.

Ere the dawn of their second day the two ellith led the two brothers by the ascending path, and after two hours' climb they came to the hallow where aforetime Helluin and Beinvír had come upon the morn when Helluin's time in Middle Earth had equaled her time in Aman. Now Valinor was't gone from the world and Númenor was't gone forever. They sat and gazed out to the east and marked another sunrise o'er the jagged peaks of the Ephel Duath.

Anor rose and the Men were struck with awe at the beauty of that land. They watched in reverent silence. Beside them Helluin and Beinvír sat side by side, arms wrapped around each other, speaking silently their thoughts.

'_Tis a beautiful land and well blessed,_ Beinvír said, _and yet so close by that of the Enemy, and should he return indeed from the wreck of Númenor, then into jeopardy shalt it fall._

_Aye, indeed it shalt, _Helluin agreed, _and yet long aforetime did I imagine here a great city that should be a strong guard against Mordor for the lands behind._

_And now thou feel at last hath come those whom thou would entrust to build it, meldanya? The time is certainly right._

_Indeed so, anamelda_**¹**_. The Númenóreans art great builders and the sworn enemies of Sauron, and these art lords amongst their people. They shalt raise someday a city and strong place of refuge for their realm that is to be. Now, while Mordor is empty and Sauron absent 'tis indeed the proper time. _

**¹**(**Anamelda, _"Dearest", __ana- _**(adj superl suff) + **_melda_** (dear) Quenya)

Beinvír nodded in agreement. For the realm of Lebennin that she had helped establish, she could think of no better custodians and rulers. All the Elendili of Pelargir would soon take these two or their father for their lord. Once the majesty of their realm developed, the other Men of Lebennin would probably accept them as o'erlords of the realm. Isildur and Anárion had been born and bred for this role, nobles of lineage and subtlety who claimed kinship with the Kings from Across the Sea.

_Thou art wise, beloved, _the Green Elf said stealing a quick kiss, _thy will shalt come to pass. I feel it in my heart. Now what is Isildur doing?_

**To Be Continued**

6


	57. In An Age Before Chapter 57

**In An Age Before – Part 57

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**

The two ellith turned to watch as the elder son of Elendil drew from his travel bag a compact, shrouded object that he handled with great care despite its considerable weight. Anárion stood beside him as he drew off the cloth covering and revealed a sphere of black crystal striated with gold. Helluin sucked in her breath sharply and Beinvír caught her glance.

'_Tis a Palantír of Enerdhil, yet none was't brought to the Hither Shores in the Exile,_ she answered. At Beinvír's questioning look she added, _'tis a seeing stone which hath the virtue of gazing far and may cleave in its vision to a stone akin to itself. Yet they art to be mastered only by those with a will strong enough to direct the stone's sight with their thoughts. _

To Beinvír 'twas yet another object of wonder and a reinforcement of her knowledge that in Aman the Eldar had ascended in knowledge and craft far beyond what had been achieved in Middle Earth. In particular the Noldor, Helluin's people, had created works undreamed of in the Hither Lands.

Now the brothers had bent their thought to the _palantír_ and were staring deeply into it, and the Elves came to stand behind them to view this wonder. Within the depths of the dark glass there grew a light, and quickly that radiance filled the sphere. Then in the midst of the light there came a clearing, and a vision of someplace far off soon filled the _palantír_, leaving but a corona to illuminate the faces of Isildur and Anárion. The face of an older Man appeared.

'_Tis the likeness of Tuor come again, _Helluin silently said to Beinvír in surprise, _yet I recognize behind him the furnishings of Ereinion's study_.

The two brothers had bowed their heads in respect and received in return a nod of acknowledgement coupled with a look of love and relief. Then Isildur held the sphere aloft and the Man seen in the _palantír_ turned in a slow circle as he walked around the matching palantír he no doubt held. He was viewing the panorama the two ellith and two Men saw. When Isildur lowered the sphere the older Man was smiling, seemingly well pleased with what he had seen, and he nodded in approval to the question in his elder son's eyes. After a few more moments the brothers again bowed their heads and then the _palantír_ abruptly went dark. Isildur covered it with the cloth and returned it to his bag. He then turned to the two Elves who stood close by watching him

"We rejoice," Isildur reported, "for Elendil, our father, is safe in Lindon with thy king. He hast seen this land and approves it, and bids us settle hither while he remains in the north. It seems we art to establish ourselves in Lebennin." He shrugged.

"Thou seem quite accustomed to receiving communications thus," Helluin said, "and I am surprised to see hither such a work of craft. Whence came thy _palantír_, Isildur?"

"'Tis one of seven gifted unto my grandfather Amandil in the days of Ar-Pharazôn, after the Eldar were banned from sailing to Númenor. The Eldar of Tol Eressëa brought them for to maintain our ties as the days darkened and we could no longer meet in person. They hath been a great source of comfort to us. When we made ready for our flight, two each did my brother and I take aboard our ships, and our father three."

Helluin nodded. The other five no doubt still resided in the Blessed Realm, for originally they had numbered twelve. She had to wonder what other treasure lay in the holds of their ships. She spoke then of things to come ere they made their way again down from Mindolluin.

"My Lords, unto this land hath the Valar delivered thee from the sea, and hither now art thou resolved to raise thy kingdom. For 'nigh 1,200 years did we ourselves administer this realm of Lebennin, guarding its safety and insuring within it the peace. Thou art the right lords of those Faithful to whom we long ago granted charter to settle at Pelargir, yet to rule this realm thou must appeal to all the Men of this realm, not just those of Númenórean descent. Long hath they governed their own affairs and sought happiness and prosperity, and thou shalt usurp neither in thy rule, for thy sovereignty is a sacred trust, sanctified by thy fair justice and their fealty.

More than this, it hast been of old the special charge of those who rule this realm to keep and defend it against Sauron and the enemies yonder in Mordor. The realm thou raise shalt be the bulwark of the west. 'Tis a heavy burden, though thou hast for a time a respite in which to build. Therefore make strong thy realm while thou can, for I feel in my heart that thy Enemy shalt come again, and with him, war.

Last I shalt counsel thee; this place in which we stand I deem a Hallow unto Eru like unto that which was't upon the summit of the Meneltarma, for in spirit it faces Taniquetil upon which the throne of Manwe is set. Keep it sacred. Build nothing here, not even an altar. Yet come thou hither, and in their days thy descendants, at proper times and with proper reverence, to give thanks and offer prayers. As we hath seen, our world stands at the whim of the One, and under the Blessing of the Valar shalt a people prosper or come to ruin."

When she was't done Isildur and Anárion stood for a time silent with bowed heads, and then they looked about them, taking in the Hallow, ere they cast again their gazes out o'er the lands beyond. They had been given a blessing and a just charge, and as they looked out to Anduin and beyond, the love of that land grew in their hearts.

"We shalt not fail," Anárion said softly as he gazed into Helluin's eyes. "We shalt not fall."

"We accept this responsibility," Isildur added, "though for long we expected to rule 'naught save our own house, and that only upon the passing of our father."

"There shalt be many to aid thee in bearing the burden of rule," Beinvír told them, "and at need thy call shalt we answer."

"Indeed we shalt," Helluin added, "for league of kinship from afar binds us in blood."

Now that which Helluin had hoped for upon that day came swiftly to pass. Isildur and Anárion named their joint realm _Gondor_**¹, **and not one city did they build there, but three.** '**Neath the Hallow upon the slopes of Mindolluin rose Minas Anor, Tower of the Sun. Astride Anduin was't built their capitol,Osgiliath, Citadel of the Stars, while upon the feet of the Ephel Duath in a sheltered vale stood Minas Ithil, Tower of the Moon.

**¹**(**Gondor, _"Land of Stone"_** Sindarin)

In truth Helluin though the placement of Minas Ithil ill advised, favoring herself the uplands of Emyn Arnen, but the brothers felt a threat upon the shoulders of the Black Land to be a gesture of faith and strength. With Mordor deserted its peril was't only a potential. In any case their intention was't good and Helluin held her peace.

Now Minas Ithil was't in the beginning the city of King Isildur, and there in the courtyard before his citadel he planted the White Tree, scion of Nimloth of Númenor that he had rescued from Armenelos. There it throve and flowered. There too was't set a _palantír._

Minas Anor was the city of Anárion, and with the walls of Mordor always in view, he built there the strongest fortification ever seen in those lands. Indeed the walls were thicker and taller than those of Umbar, the primary stronghold of the Númenóreans in Middle Earth aforetime. Here too was't a _palantír_ set.

At Osgiliath, the city of many bridges, there was't concentrated the greatest population of Gondor. There was't the Court of the Kings, and 'neath the Dome of Stars were their thrones set side by side. This marvel of engineering, depicting the night sky of Númenor, was't inspired by the tales Beinvír and Helluin told of the Hall of Lenwe that had stood ere the flood in Edhellond. In a chamber behind the throne room was't kept the third and largest _palantír_ of the southern realm, and there most frequently did the kings hold converse with their father in the north.

T'would be some years ere the fourth _palantír_ of the south realm was't housed, but when the Men of Gondor raised the Tower of _Angrenost_**¹**, called also _Orthanc_**²**, at the feet of the Hithaeglir, they created a fastness to withstand the ages.

**¹**(**Angrenost, _Iron Fortress,_** Sindarin Called later by the Rohirrim in their own tongue, Isengard)** ²**(**Orthanc, _Forked Height,_** referring to the four curved pillars that supported the tower. Sindarin)

In the early years of Gondor Helluin and Beinvír visited often, and they rejoiced to see the prosperity the two brothers brought to the people. Much trade came up and down the river, and Osgiliath united those folk to the north with those in the south. Likewise many benefits did the Númenóreans in exile gift to their people; improvements in tools, in planting, in fishing, and in the making of ships and buildings. Much lore did they teach to those whom they called the _Men of Twilight_, those not of the Houses of the Edain who were also not under the Shadow of Sauron and worshipped not Morgoth and the Darkness. Arts and crafts of many kinds flourished 'neath their tutelage and patronage, letters and music as well. But perhaps more than anything else, a factor that endeared those from across the sea to the Men of Lebennin was't the knowledge of healing brought out of Númenor. Great lore of herbs and surgery they had and they valued the health of their people. Many lives were saved, whether in childbirth or from accidents, and even the ravages of disease they assuaged, for the virtue of healing lay in the hands of the kings. Old age they eased too, and for the short-lived upon the Hither Shores, 'twas a blessing dear to many families whose elders could now better enjoy their failing years. So the Men of Lebennin, in their own time and of their own free will clove to the rule of the Kings, and indeed they swore thus their fealty to the two brothers in S.A. 3370, the 50th year of their reign.

Upon the morn of 31 Narbeleth in that year, when the harvest was gathered in with plenty, Helluin and Beinvír awaited the kings in the darkness of the Hallow. Ere dawn two came in silence up the path from Minas Anor, and each carried produce in token of thanksgiving for the bounty of their people. Isildur stopped when he marked the presence of others where no Man was't wont to come. Anárion too looked closely at them. Helluin was't surprised they had been marked at all, wrapped as they were in their Elven cloaks. She let flare a soft glow of sapphire from her eyes and the two Men relaxed.

Together the four stood in silence facing the east as Anor rose upon the morn of the _Eruhantalë_. The kings made their offerings of thanksgiving for the harvest and spoke their prayers in Quenya, for of old had that tongue been esteemed for ceremonial and formal uses, and though long banned in Númenor, both Men spoke and read it fluently. Soon Anor lit the landscape with brilliant light; the river a snake of living silver whose flickering scales glittered amidst the white city of Osgiliath, the fallow fields stretching wide in earth tones comforting to the spirit, while orchards blazed orange, yellow, and red with their autumn foliage at its peak. Helluin sighed. Across all those miles o'er the land of Mordor she sensed a Shadow returned.

_Use well thy days and value thy peace_, she thought, _for I feel that soon shalt come again a trial._

By the tightening of her beloved's hand in her own she knew that Beinvír saw it too ere her eyes were drawn south to the sea. In the high airs above the undulating curves that led down to Pelargir a dark speck was't approaching. At first foreboding seized them, but soon the sharp eyes of the two ellith discerned that 'twas a bird, but one of great size.

Then as they watched, up from the sea came a great Eagle flying, and the span of his wings was't 'nigh 30 fathoms, for he was't of the kin of Thorondor of old. Swiftly he flew inland from Belegaer, for he had tarried not upon the coast but came directly thither to where they stood. There he alighted facing them and gravely did he gaze upon the four as they bowed before him.

"_Áye_**¹**, O_Aireráma_**²," **Helluin said to the once familiar Eagle ere she raised her headEver had he been one of Manwe'smessengers in the Blessed Realm.

**¹**(**_Áye_**, **Hail!** Quenya) **²**(**Aireráma, _Holy Wing,_ ****_aire _**(holy) + **_ráma _**(wing) Quenya)

"_Áye_, O _Heldalúne Maica i móremenel_. Long hast it been since we spoke together upon the Pelori 'neath the Light of the Trees. I bring thee words of doom from He who is most exalted upon Arda, and though perhaps difficult to bear, still 'tis for a purpose high and was't declared in the Song. Think it not a punishment, for 'twas not intended thus by the One, but fulfills a purpose in the unfolding of Ea that shalt bear fruit ere the ending of days."

Then the great Eagle preened his feathers and settled as to roost, and when he spoke again, his eyes glowed with a _ril_ of sapphire and the great voice that came forth from his beak was't not his own. Isildur and Anárion flung themselves down upon their faces in reverence for this manifestation of the Elder King. Helluin and Beinvír knelt upon one knee with their heads bowed.

"_Long shalt be thy abiding upon these Hither Shores, for thy doom was't wrought 'neath the undying stars ere the sun and moon. Yet one day Men shalt see those holy vessels halt their paths across the heavens. When that time draws 'nigh, then shalt thou find thy blood reborn, and thy beloved's as well._ _In that time, when those of the Younger Children shalt first see the stars in their glory undimmed, as did thy kindred aforetime in Cuivienen, then only shalt thou find thy way to thy people's long home beyond the Curved World, and thence upon the Straight Road, come thither unto the Ancient West at last."_

At the declaration of her fate, numbness spread like the frost of Morgoth's breath within Helluin's heart. All whom she knew, all her kin and friends would hath long ago taken ship into the West. All the Noldor, all the Sindar, and all the Nandor would be gone from Middle Earth. The words held no hope that she could discern. Never would a Man see the stars as they had been, bright and unblinking, for already they were faded. And when Tilion and Arien ceased their journeys across the heavens then the end of the world would be 'nigh.

"Then indeed I am forsaken upon these Hither Shores," Helluin replied, "for never shalt the Fading be set aside nor the stars again shine undimmed. Ere a thousand years of the Second Age had passed did I mark their diminished fires, and since then it hath but proceeded apace."

"_Nevertheless, despair not_, _Heldalúne Maica i móremenel, keep thy hope_."

_If thou say so,_ she thought, though the conditions were all but impossible. With 'naught else to do she bowed again to the Eagle in acknowledgement that she had indeed received his errand. Beside her Beinvír was just progressing from shock to heartbreak.

Aireráma blinked and his eyes lost their unnatural glow. He ruffled his feathers.

"_Namárie_**¹**," Aireráma said ere he flapped and launched himself from the Hallow. Helluin noted that for the first hundred feet he fell like a stone.

**¹**(**Namárie, _Farewell_** Quenya)

"_Namárie_," Helluin whispered to his disappearing form, wondering for a moment if this apparition had not been Sauron come in yet another fantastical guise. She shrugged. Either it was't or it wasn't and either way there was't naught that she could do about it. She resolved to put it from her mind. For the present she would concentrate on comforting Beinvír, who was't now sobbing uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around the Green Elf and held her tight.

Later, when she thought positively about the words of Aireráma/Manwe, she took it as a promise that if nothing else, she would never die in battle. That thought led briefly to a brooding mood. Finally though, Helluin decided a course of action and as she traveled thereafter she would at times work to craft a set of fine arrows for her bow. These she shafted of white birch, light and straight, and fletched with white feathers from the wings of snow geese. And upon their fore-ends she mounted the nine _mithril _arrowheads gifted to her aforetime by Gotli of Khazad-dum. 'T'would be many a year ere they would fly.

**To Be Continued**


	58. In An Age Before Chapter 58

**In An Age Before – Part 58

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**

**Chapter Thirty-nine**

_**Arnor and Elostirion – The Second Age of the Sun**_

After hearing the declaration of her doom, Helluin and Beinvír wandered north and then west, through that land the Dúnedain now called Calenardhon. That country encompassed the previously unnamed lands north of the Ered Nimrais and south of the River Onodló, from Anduin in the east to the River Isen in the west. Travelers making their way westward left Calenardhon to enter Enedwaith, and after perhaps a week's march, struck a road, soon much improved, that led thence to Tharbad upon the River Gwathlo. Indeed it followed an earlier track that continued on to Sarn Athrad on the River Baranduin, and thence into central Eriador and the realm of Arnor.

Now Elendil and his people had settled most heavily at first in that area bounded by the Emyn Uial, the Northern Downs, and the White Downs, yet ere long they claimed all the country between Lune and Gwathlo. These were the same lands of Eriador which had long hosted the Laiquendi, and the two peoples coexisted peacefully thereafter, the Dúnedain in ignorance, and the Green Elves with stealth. In the mid to late-3300s, the northern Dúnedain were still building their settlements. Helluin and Beinvír made their way thither in S.A. 3371 for their first visit after some decades.

Upon the Northern Downs now stood_ Fornost Erain_**¹**, and this was't a true fortress in the days of its building. It stood backed against a sheer drop of a hundred feet, its northern wall a continuation of the near vertical face created by nature, making then the drop from the parapet 200 feet into the lowland that slowly rose to the next down lying to the north. The city within was't protected by its encircling wall, 100 feet in height and well, 'nigh 30 feet thick, and 'twas constructed of massive blocks hewn and fitted with a precision rivaling that of the Gonnhirrim. Even the Green Elves were at first impressed, though 'twas still a sitting target and, they deemed, t'would sooner or later be struck.

**¹**(**Fornost Erain, _North Fortress of the Kings_** Sindarin)

The main gate faced due south where a road led away in a curve to the west, and that gate was't not a single double-door, but rather a series of strong gates set into a progression of walls with narrowing avenues between. To break in, an enemy would be forced to win through five guarded gates, traversing the deadly avenues that zigzagged from one to the next 'neath the hail of arrows, butchered carcasses, scalding oil, stones, and flaming, pitch-soaked balls of hay that would rain down upon them from the heights of the walls to either side.

Were an enemy to succeed in breaching all five gates, they would then come to a courtyard encircled by walls, from which companies of archers would fire down upon them. This was't _E-Nbelthed Tal_**¹**. Here their hopes would fail for there was't no exit from that place save death. The true entrance to Fornost Erain led into the city from a cunningly devised gate, camouflaged amongst the blocks of the avenue between the second and third gates. There a massive counterweighted monolith could be lowered to seal the entrance like a portcullis.

**¹(E-Nbelthed Tal**, **_The_** **_Killing Ground_** **_en_**(def art, the) + **_beltho-_**(v, kill) +_ **-ed**_(gerund, -ing) + **_tal_**(ground) Sindarin)

Strong as Fornost Erain was't, it had been conceived as a refuge in time of war and an outpost of the army of Arnor. Besides the King's Warriors, few dwelt there in those days in times of peace. Most of the civilian population was't spread 'cross the land or lived in the capitol city to the west.

A great city the two ellith found rising upon the southern shores of Nenuial that Men called Lake Evendim. This was't _Annúminas_**¹**, the first northern capitol, wherein Elendil had set his throne and the chief of the northern kingdom's_ palantíri_. 'Twas a strong city to be sure, with a massive wall and high towers of watch, but 'twas also a city beautiful, filled with arches and fountains, and many fair gardens with shaded walks and sweetly scented flowers. 'Twas almost Elvish, Helluin thought as she strode a finely paved avenue, and the Tower of Sunset for which the city was't named looked like nothing less than a Mannish version of Tirion; not so lofty and somewhat more robust in proportions, while'st less delicate in its ornamentation.

**¹**(**Annúminas, _Tower of Sunset, _****_annú(n)_**(sunset) + **_minas_**(tower) (gen const, of) Sindarin)

Since their arrival Helluin had been carefully watching o'er Beinvír, and she was't happy to note that the Green Elf, though constantly staring all about her, showed little of her native aversion to being in a city. For a moment, Helluin compared the Laiquende's conduct now to that first visit in Ost-In-Edhil at the very beginning of their friendship.

As if reading her thoughts, Beinvír said, "'Tis a city true, yet more comfortable in it do I find myself than ever I did in Ost-In-Edhil. Perhaps in a thousand years I shalt even prefer it to Lindon."

"Thou think that a thousand years shalt allow a span in which to grow proper trees?" Helluin asked.

"Nay, I think that in a thousand years it shalt either hath proper moss or shalt be fallen and crumbled into the earth." Beinvír allowed herself a smile. "I am jesting, Helluin."

The Noldo shook her head but a grin shaped her lips. A jest while in a strange city was't a good sign that her partner felt at ease. It had been long ere the Green Elf could keep from bursting out in tears at unpredictable times, ever dwelling upon the prophecy delivered by the Eagle. For his words of doom, Helluin was't beginning to wish she'd spitted the great bird that day and served him to the entire city of Minas Anor.

"They hath made remarkable progress," Helluin said seriously.

"Indeed so," the Green Elf agreed, "a vast improvement o'er the tent city we saw at our first visit upon our return to Lindon from Anduin."

'Twas a pointless trip if ever there was't one," Helluin agreed. "All we could tell would hath been easier and far quicker related by speech with the _palantíri_."

Soon they came to the throne room in the Tower of Sunset and a herald announced them to the court. Helluin found it interesting, for unlike the rectangular hall and square tower of the Citadel of Elros in Armenelos, this tower was't round and the hall 'neath it round as well. 'Twas a stark departure from the usual architecture of the Dúnedain…indeed 'twas much more Elvish in design and feel. They crossed a floor paved in mirror polished black granite and came to stand before a dais of five broad steps upon which was't set a carved throne of the same stone. They noted that 'twas thickly cushioned.

Upon the throne sat a Man, tall, dark-haired and grey-eyed, and he rose to greet his guests much as Helluin recalled Tar-Elendil had done upon her first visit to Númenor. Though he bore the same name, this Man closely resembled her old friend, Tuor son of Huor. The brief vision of him in the _palantír_ years before hadn't lied.

Helluin deemed the resemblance poetic and fitting. Like Tuor, Elendil had fled the ruin of his home to found one in a new land, there to ensure the survival of the remnant of his people and the continuity of his lineage. And he carried in his veins the blood of Tuor and Idril, but also that of Beren and Lúthien, bearing unto future days through his heirs that precious thread of nobility that had come down from the Elder Days. In him flowed too in some measure, the blood of Elu Thingol and Melian, Turgon and Elenwe, and therefore of Finwe and Olwe; the blood of the patriarchs of the Noldor and the Nandor and the Teleri, and even of the Blessed Maiar.

Helluin and Beinvír bowed deeply to the king and he surprised them by bowing just as deeply in return. There seemed to be no condescension in him and Helluin thought it a very good sign after all the ruinous pride of the Númenórean kings.

"On behalf of my people I thank thee for the aid thou hast given my sons in the south. Greatly am I honored by thy presence and I welcome thee both to Annúminas," he said.

"And I am thankful of thy welcome, O King," Helluin said. "Thy people hath made great progress upon thy city since last we came hither."

"I too am thankful for thy welcome, King Elendil," Beinvír said. "Thy city is indeed grown beautiful and shalt grow more so in time."

A warm smile lit the face of the king as he resumed his seat upon the throne. He became then less formal in speech, though he retained his dignified manner.

"The city shalt indeed become more beautiful, though that shalt be long after I lay down my life, no doubt. I bid thee enjoy it in days to come nonetheless. I suppose even Lindon appeared not so fair when 'twas abuilding, though Lord Ereinion hast managed to remain alive to enjoy its flowering," Elendil said. "Ah well. I cannot complain. Indeed none delivered from the fate of our homeland can by rights complain."

He and some of the advisors gathered 'round him chuckled at the momentary shock on the two Elves' faces.

"We each hath our lot, do we not? Only the downfall of a nation was't needed to make thus this son of a discredited lord into a king. I am merely lucky to hath been born at the right time and place to be gifted a throne by fate and the foresight of my father," he said in self-deprecating jest. "Now, pray tell, what may I do for thee?"

Helluin gulped at the Man's candor and grace and his familiar sense of humor. He had fully accepted his fate, the good and the bad, and now he asked after her desire. She found him easy to respect, and were she in his service, an easy lord to love.

"I hath indeed a request, O King," she said, "and by thy grace perhaps thou shalt see fit to grant it. My desire is to look with thy _palantír_ into the lost West that hath been taken from the world. The stone of Emyn Beraid, 'tis said, looks ever west across the sea, and I hath found of late that my doom is to go never back to the home of my people."

To this petition King Elendil nodded, for the use of a _palantír_ only the king could grant. 'Twas no new tidings to him, the news of her fate. All that had come to pass upon the _Eruhantalë_ had been reported to him by his sons. Not oft did an Eagle speak the doom of Manwe right before their eyes. And that doom he knew was't hard and yet not unfamiliar. He too could never go home.

"Helluin, I grant thy request, for I understand thy position, yet death shalt take from me that pain ere long. For thee it shalt linger, and any surcease of thy sorrow I can offer, thou art welcome to. Indeed 'tis a small thing thou ask, balanced against all thou hath done for my people aforetime. As thou hast said, the _palantír_ of _Elostirion_**¹** looks towards Eressëa across the seas. If thou hast the will to command it, thou shalt see a vision of thy desire."

**¹**(**Elostirion, **tallest of the three White Towers, it housed a _palantír_. It is said that these towers were built for Elendil by Gil-galad. They stood on the north-central heights of the Emyn Beraid, the Tower Hills, about 40 miles east of Mithlond and 165 miles southwest of Annúminas.)

Helluin bowed in thanks for the king's generosity.

Seven days later, having traveled the 35 leagues from Annúminas to Emyn Beraid, Helluin and Beinvír stood before Elostirion, the loftiest and westernmost of the _Beraid Nim_**¹**. It jutted from the green and rolling land like a spire of pearl, fair and slender, its crystalline marble dazzling in the sunlight. Nearby to the southeast and northeast, the summits of two other towers could be seen above the loose canopy of trees that speckled the Tower Hills. Neither appeared so tall, though both were as brilliant and shapely.

**¹**(**Beraid Nim,_ White Towers, beraid_** (towers, pl) + **_nim_** (white) Sindarin)

"Unlike the works of Annúminas and Fornost Erain art these, I deem," Beinvír observed, "for they hath a grace about them I should judge Elvish in feel."

"And I should agree, _meldanya,_" Helluin said. "Indeed in form they art much like miniatures of Mindon Eldaliéva in Tirion. I should not be surprised to find that Glorfindel and Gil-galad had a hand in this."

Sure enough, when they stood before the doorway they found it bracketed by the symbols of the Two Trees rendered in relief upon the door posts. This design motif was't characteristic to the Noldor in Middle Earth and also appeared in _Ithildin_ upon the _Ennyn Durin_ of Khazad-dum. Carved upon the lintel stone was't the White Tree of Númenor 'neath the Rayed Star of Earendil, the symbols of the Dúnedain.

A custodian had met them, for the king had 'spoken' to him in advance of their coming. Within the realms of the exiled Dúnedain, it had become the custom for the king to grant responsibility for a _palantír_ to a trusted vassal. Such a one was't entrusted with the duty of surveying, at periodic times, all that could be observed with the stone in his keeping, and thence to report any findings of note to his lord. The custodian was't also charged to protect his king's property with his life.

Beinvír found she would never be comfortable with the idea of Men able to converse in thought across distances with their _palantíri_. Indeed it made her skin crawl, as though it were a glamour fell or some device of Sauron's, for it seemed to her an unnatural ability at the command of mortals. Easily enough she could accept that such works had been wrought by Helluin's people long before, and she had to wonder at their wisdom in presenting such thus to the Elendili; nobly intended as the gift had been. Men, she had come to conclude through centuries of observation, tended to die and their heirs to forget things, oft important things, most notably of late, their reverence for the Valar. She shook her head.

In mildly annoying ways, the custodian seemed to enjoy demonstrating his knowledge of them and their errand.

"Helluin Maeg-mórmenel," he had said ere she introduced herself, "'tis a fine clear day at sea, not that such should affect thy _far looking_, I wager. Ahhh, and thou must surely be fair Beinvír, Laiquende, a lover of trees and moss."

"Indeed we art as thou doth suspect," Helluin had said, "lovers of clear days in far lands and mosses in our own. I discern that we art expected and our errand known." She offered him a smile and continued with, "'Tis past noon, my friend; hath thy foresight included perhaps the procurement of victuals? My companion hast rendered an appetite from our morn's walk." Indeed she herself was't also famished. At the mention of food, Beinvír's stomach growled and she patted it.

The custodian blinked, appearing for a moment surprised by such a mundane request. Then he realized that there was't indeed no a tavern or inn nearby, for few traveled the road to the towers. The nearest village lay some dozen miles to the east, a settlement of farmers in the flatlands beyond the hills, and that had only sprung up in the last couple decades. He recovered from his silence quickly, nodding in assent and graciously inviting the two Elves into the tower to sup.

"We hath been provisioned by the king's grace with some meats and ale, and with breads and cheeses from the nearest village," he declared. "Thou shalt hath a hearty repast indeed."

The meal was't indeed of good fare, and if a bit basic, still greatly welcomed. The custodian joined his guests at table and ate ravenously, very nearly matching the Green Elf who stood barely to his shoulder. Afterwards the three climbed a long and winding stair to the viewing chamber high in the tower.

They found there a bright, circular room paneled in finely fitted white marble, with seven narrow windows about the periphery, and in the west a wider doorway with a narrow balcony beyond. Near that door stood a pedestal of the same white marble as covered the walls, and thereon rested the _palantír._ This stone was't larger than that which they had seen first in the hand of Isildur, yet smaller than that set behind the throne room in the Dome of Stars at Osgiliath. 'Twas thus about a foot and a half in diameter, dark within, and laced with comet trails of gold inside its glass.

Helluin approached the seeing stone, calming her mind as she came 'nigh, and took a station standing beside the pedestal to its east. She was't thus positioned to look into the _palantír_ while'st facing west, with the door directly ahead and 'naught but the blue of the sky beyond. Beinvír came to stand close beside her, glancing back and forth between the dark crystal sphere and her dark partner. The custodian took the single chair that sat in the center of the room and lapsed into a watching silence.

The initiation of the contact was't quick. Helluin required no preparation or search time; she had lived in Tirion with Arandil for well 'nigh a thousand years and knew the house of Enerdhil's family wherein the master stone abode. Thither now she commanded the stone, as one using a glass magnifier to study some familiar and arcane script. The image within the glass swirled not, nor took time to clear, but snapped at once to a vision of the Blessed Realm. There 'twas revealed the empty chamber in which the master stone resides upon its pedestal of clear crystal; a circular colonnade of white marble, open, light, and airy. In the cupola of the doomed ceiling a clear bell rang signifying a contact, and shortly two Eldar came thither in haste. Helluin peered at them, recognizing both at once, master and apprentice. They in turn brought their faces close to their stone and beheld her visage ere the apprentice withdrew a pace leaving the master his privacy. Looking thus eye to eye, he and Helluin spoke in thought.

"_Alassein yomenie, nildinya_**¹**_,"_ the tall ellon dressed in a deep blue robe said, his smile was't broad and the light of joy shone bright in his eyes. He nodded to Beinvír whom he didn't know.

**¹**(**Alassein yomenie, nildinya,_ "A joyous meeting, my (female) friends."_ _alasse _**(joy) + **_-in(que) _**(adj on noun suff, -ous) +**_ yomenie_** (meeting) + **_nild(e)_** (friend, f.) + **_-i_** (pl suff) + **_-nya _**(1st pers poss suff, my) Quenya)

"_Alassein yomenie_ _é, Enerdhil,"_ Helluin replied, _"ar náni alassearwa cena entúlanet Mandosllo_**¹**_."_

**¹**(**Alasse yomenie é, Enerdhil ar náni alassearwa cena** **entúlanet Mandosllo._ "A joyous meeting indeed, Enerdhil, and I am joyful to see you returned from Mandos." alasse _**(joy) + **_-in(que) _**(adj on noun suff, -ous) +**_ yomenie_** (meeting) + **_é_** (indeed!) +**_ Enerdhil,_** +**_ ar _**(and) + **_ná- _**(is, am) + **_ni _**(I) +**_ alasse _**(joy) + **_-arwa_**(adj on noun suff, -ful) + **_cena _**(inf v, to see) + **_entúla-,_** (return) + **_-ne_**(v imperf past, -ed) + **_-t_** (subj pro suff, you) + **_Mandos_** + **_-llo_ **(ablat suff, from) Quenya)

To this Enerdhil nodded and then gravely said, _"Nánes anda lúme, amanta únás la ve anda ve mandetya, nildenya_**¹." **

**¹**(**Nánes anda lúme, amanta** **únás la ve anda** **ve mandetya,** **nildenya**_ **"It was a long time, but yet it was not so long a fate as yours, my (female) friend."**__ **ná- **_(is) + **_-ne_** (past perf suff, was) + **_-s_** (subj suff, it) +_ **anda **_(long) + **_lúme _**(time) + **_ananta _**(but yet) + **_ú _**(neg pref) +**_ ná- _**(is) +**_ -s_** (subj suff, it) + **_la_**(compare) + **_ve_** (as) + **_anda _**(long) + **_ve_** (as) + **_mande _**(fate) + **_tya_** (indp pro suff, yours) + **_nilde_** (friend, f.) + **_-nya _**(1st pers poss suff, my) Quenya)

Now 'twas Helluin's turn to solemnly nod in agreement. She was't hardly surprised that the proclamation of her doom was't known in Tirion. Little was regarded as secret, and though there were many personal things of which little was't said, many hearts were known and many thoughts easily shared in a city where all could read each other with a glance and few lied…and fewer still sought their solitude as had she.

"_É_ _násie_," Helluin said, _"ar anda lúmenáuvas tenna tye cennan at_**¹**_." _

**¹**(**É násie,****ar anda lúmenáuvas tenna tye cennan at.** **_"Indeed so it is, and a long time it will be until you I see again."_** **_é_** (indeed!) + **_násie_** (so it is) + **_ar _**(and) +_ **anda **_(long) + **_lúme _**(time) + **_ná- _**(is) + **_-uva_ ( **fut v suff) + **_-s_** (obj suff, it) + **_tenna _**(until) + **_tye_**(pron, you) +**_ cena-_** (see) + **_n(ye-)_** (sub suff, I) + **_at _**(again) Quenya)

Helluin and the great craftsman of Gondolin that she had known in an Age before continued speaking, and long they communicated thus, across all the leagues of the Sundering Sea and the gulf of spirit by which the Valar had separated Aman from Middle Earth. The longer their conversation was't maintained, the more and more closely the custodian attended to it, and though he read not what they said, still was't he astonished by the simple duration of the viewing. Such focus was't tiresome and draining to the will of mortal Men and indeed 'naught but a short span could be endured, for the fatigue was't slow to pass. Yet Helluin and Enerdhil maintained their connection unperturbed for well 'nigh an hour of the sun.

To her amazement, Enerdhil revealed that the site of the stone to which she had directed her vision was't no longer the ancient home of his family in Tirion. After his release from the Halls of Mandos he had removed his household to Tol Eressëa, there to rejoin those of his friends who had returned from Middle Earth after the War of Wrath. Thus the chamber in which he now stood was't in fact in Avallónë, though he had recreated the architecture convincingly. He said this with a shrug, but Helluin was't surprised that she hadn't discerned the fact. She had visited Eressëa in the Age of the Trees to converse with her friends amongst the Host of Olwe both before and once after the founding of Alqualonde, though afterwards the isle had been well 'nigh deserted. Obviously since the return of the Exiles much had changed upon the Lonely Isle, and though she had heard this, seeing 'twas another matter. Indeed the city of Avallónë had been built where none had existed aforetime. All she could do was't shake her head in amazement at the changes. When they finally broke off, Enerdhil bowed and stood away from the master stone and by her will Helluin commanded it to survey the Undying Realm.

_Though thou declined to sail to Tol Eressëa aforetime my beloved,_ Helluin silently told Beinvír,_ I shalt herein show thee the Lands of Light that art in the West, and alone of all the Moriquendi shalt thou know the noontime of the Bliss of Aman._

And in the stone it seemed then that a succession of gossamer veils were parted before their sight, and as the last drew aside, there suffusing all shone a radiance unearthly, as hast never been in the Hither Lands. Then Helluin directed their sight westwards, into the higher airs, and the brightness grew, and soon they beheld the green and bountiful plain of Valinor, and upon it Valmar, city of the Valar. Their sight descended until they saw before the western gate of the city, a mound of fine turf upon which flowered the Two Trees. The scene was't so bright they had to squint ere their eyes adjusted.

_Back hath I taken thy sight, beloved, unto Ezellohar in the Age of the Trees. Behold! Thither blooms fair Laurelin, trailing nectar of brightest gold, and beside her Telperion of brilliant silver dews. Before them art the Vats of Varda which lit all the Blessed Realm in days of yore._

From the _palantír's_ surface radiated a near-blinding_ ril_ of Holy Light. Beinvír stared into the vision as one struck still with awe, the brilliance washing o'er her features, brighter than the noonday sun. Helluin took from her quiver the nine white arrows she had fletched and held them steady in that glare. When finally she removed them, their _mithril_ heads glowed and only slowly returned to normal, having absorbed somewhat of the virtue of the Blessed Light.

Helluin had come thus to Elostirion in part to provide Beinvír with a virtual tour of Valinor in the Age of the Trees. She'd had other goals in making this contact as well. But then to her astonished mortification a raven-haired figure walked in to stand 'neath the Trees, doffing her robes as she went, until she stood naked 'neath the falling _ril_ of mingled silver and gold. 'Twas Helluin herself, come as she had been wont to do for a thousand years, standing thus with back arched and arms uplifted, to receive visions of Arda while she marinated in the power of the Holy Light. The expression on her face was't one of pure rapture. Helluin herself found it interesting, seeing herself thus, wholly consumed in bliss. _In all of Aman, here finally is something I hath not seen aforetime, though I should not hath chosen to display such a sight so blatantly…ah well._

Beside her, Beinvír gulped and felt a surge of arousal. Her lover shone with the same Blessed Light as had later led hosts to war o'er those three scant fragments encased in the Silmarils of Feanor. Indeed Helluin's figure soon became almost too blinding to look at. Beinvír could not begin to imagine the sensations such an experience would bring, nor the potential for change that it wrought. Behind her the custodian stood panting.

With a determined command, Helluin backed their vision away from Ezellohar, rising past the Ring of Doom where now sat a Vala robed in sapphire with a Valier robed in silver. Beside her Beinvír hissed a shocked exhalation and bowed her head by reflex. Helluin resumed her tour. She half-suspected that the vision had been the Vala's idea of a joke. Helluin commanded their eyepoint to ascend as with an Eagle's flight, while time sped forward, returning them to the present.

_See thou the majesty of the Pelori, and Taniquetil upon whose summit stands the domed Hall of Ilmarin wherein dwell Manwe and Varda, Lady of the Stars? And thither is Tirion wherein rises white Mindon Eldaliéva, Tower of Lord Ingwë, most noble lord of all our peoples. Behold, the Calacirya, Pass of Light, and beyond doth lie'th Tol Eressëa, the Blessed Isle. I mark that 'nigh Tirion the Fair it seems some rock falls hath recently occurred…huh._

Through all this Beinvír had been staring into the _palantír _with such intensity that she had leaned nose first to the stone, her eyes barely shy of its surface. Behind her the custodian had leaned in o'er her shoulder and he wept silently, unashamed and in awe of what the _palantír_ had revealed. What he had seen therein of the Blessed Realm, none of his folk save one had seen and lived to tell**¹, **and even he had seen not the Light of the Two Trees. For all the days of his life, never would he forget this vision of what lay beyond the fate of his kindred. Hard pressed indeed would he be to fulfill his duty and describe this vision to his king, for what he had felt, words could scarce describe.

**¹**(And this was Beren Erchamion, son of Barahir, who wed Lúthien Tinúviel, daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia in the First Age of the Sun. He died achieving the quest to take a Silmaril from Morgoth and was returned to life from the Halls of Mandos after Lúthien sang before Namo pleading mercy for his doom. He was returned to Beleriand, and for love of him, into mortality and death went also Lúthien, fairest child of the Eldar. _The Sil, Quenta Silmarillion_, XIX, OBaL )

_Upon the Straight Road I command thy sight, and thence across the Shadowy Sea, back to Belegaer and to the Hither Shores; Gondor, the Ephel Duath…and Mordor, the Black Land, home of our Enemy!_

It should not hath been possible, that the sight of the master stone be thus directed, and never before or since had its gaze passed not to another of the _palantíri,_ and yet now 'twas so, for to survey in safety what she could not in reality and flesh was't the final objective of Helluin's petition to King Elendil.

Minas Ithil lay below like a toy tower and from it Helluin's sight rose, o'er the Ephel Duath to the Plateau of Gorgoroth. Thence across the choking and barren leagues of ash her eye swept, swiftly circling Mt. Doom wherefrom came a wisp of smoke, to close at last upon the Black Tower, the Barad-dúr of Sauron. To Helluin's horror she found 'twas wreathed in a Shadow that was't no vapor of the world, and from within it she felt Him! And Sauron, incorporeal but still potent in his malice, lurched around in fury as he perceived her. He was't horribly vulnerable, a naked fëa, and she was't a dangerous enemy who held a deadly Ring, but search as he might, he could not see her.

In a flash her viewpoint retraced its journey, so sickeningly fast that the custodian turned away retching and Beinvír recoiled from the stone. But Helluin held the control of the _palantír_ and her sight clove to its course unerring, returning to the viewing chamber of Enerdhil in Avallónë. Thence to ground the stone, she slowly walked in a circle thrice around it, seeing all sides of its chamber, and then returning its focus by surveying for a heartbeat each of the other stones. When all was't done she blinked and the _palantír_ went dark. She took a deep breath and released it with a sigh.

_Sauron hath indeed survived the Fall of Númenor, and though he is for now but a shade of evil, someday there shalt again be war._

Now in Gondor the years passed and all seemed well, yet whenever Helluin came to that land and looked to the east above the Ephel Duath, the same Shadow did she see there, sometimes darker, sometimes lighter, yet o'er time she marked that it seemed ever to darken as a slowly gathering gloom. Between 3371 and 3410 she and Beinvír traveled twice betwixt Eriador and the southern kingdom, yet when the first blow was't struck against Gondor they were in Rhovanion, revisiting Greenwood the Great.

**To Be Continued**

10


	59. In An Age Before Chapter 59

**In An Age Before – Part 59**

**Chapter Forty**

_**Of Durin's Ring, Khazad-dum - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Beyond the Hithaeglir in Rhovanion lay Greenwood the Great, and thither had Helluin and Beinvír wandered 'neath the trees for nineteen years. They had come hither from Gondor after their last visit in 3410, following the Anduin north, for along it there were now new works that they had desired to see. From Minas Anor they traveled upon the western banks, passing Cair Andros and the marshy mouths of the _River Onodló_**¹, **and making their way to the escarpment of the Emyn Muil. From its foot a stair and footpath they had followed, steep and winding, which by many switchbacks climbed that wall beside the Falls of Rauros. Thence through a narrow valley that paralleled the river they marched, until that track opened upon the flat green sward of _Parth Galen_**²**. They arrived at the valley's mouth in the early afternoon. **¹**(**River Onodló** was the Sindarin name for the River Entwash, which flowed down from Fangorn Forest and across Anórien to the Anduin below the Emyn Muil.) **²**(**Parth Galen, **_**Green Sward,**_ Sindarin, a sloping lawn upon the western bank of Anduin that ran from the Nen Hithoel, the lake formed behind the Falls of Rauros, up to the slopes of Amon Hen, the Hill of Seeing)

Across the broadened waters of Nen Hithoel stood the eastern bank, climbing in pine clad slopes to the twisted ridges and cut canyons of the dreary hills of the Emyn Muil. Helluin knew that once over the nearest heights the landscape was brown and forbidding, eroded into confusing folds and drops that were treacherous and tiresome to travel. Here 'nigh the water the shores were fertile and pleasant. The constant roar of Rauros was a monotonous background that Helluin found at once both threatening and soothing to her ears. 'Twas a power uncontrollable and potentially fatal. Near as it was, the air bore humidity from the rising flume of water vapor cast up by the plummeting waters of the falls. When the sun fell just right, a rainbow would arc 'cross the twin outlets of the lake.

Beinvír shaded her eyes and looked first at the tall conical isle that rose amidst the water rushing toward the falls. Upon its steep slopes many birds nested undisturbed. Round about it went their flight and o'er the water came their calls, contesting with the thunder of the falling water for the attention of her ears. She smiled at their antics, watching as one skillfully picked a fish from 'neath the surface and a second more skillful yet picked it just as easily from the first bird's beak. A chase followed wherein the fish was stolen back and then filched a second time ere the thief made its landing and fed the ill-gotten prey to its young.

"Tol Brandir, the Lofty Isle," Helluin said, having followed the aerial drama along with her beloved.

"Aptly named indeed," Beinvír agreed, "and well populated. I think perhaps that fish was't glad to finally be eaten rather than passed thus from beak to beak on high."

"I see it more a case of 'out of the frying pan into the fire'," Helluin countered, "and though perhaps glad not to be dropped from the air, I cannot imagine that fish glad to be dropped at the last down a gullet."

Beinvír giggled and slapped playfully at her friend's stomach.

"I should hath enjoyed seeing the expression upon its face, such as it might hath had, being a fish, for 'twas such a sudden, strange, and undignified fate it endured," she said. "I must wonder how a fish's face appears in a moment of complete astonishment."

"I should think much as ever it appeared aforetime," Helluin said, "for fish art not the most expressive of creatures, being immobile of lid and lip. Tell me love, hath ever thou seen a fish wink or blink?"

"Nay, I hath not. Hath thou ever seen a fish smile or grimace?"

"Nay, I hath not," Helluin admitted. "I suspect then that the fish met its doom with stoic composure of features; indeed with an expression much like it had met each day before."

"Were I to hath made fish," Beinvír said, "I should hath made them able to express somewhat of the wonders they must see in their world 'neath the water."

"And then I should scarce be so quick to eat them, were they gaping at me, bug-eyed and grimacing, or worse yet, soulfully pleading and innocent."

"I should eat them still," Beinvír asserted with certainty, "for I hath thee to catch them." She smiled endearingly at Helluin. "Thou woulds't hew off their heads and bring them expressionless to the pan, and I should feel then no guilt to distract from my hunger."

Helluin had looked at the Green Elf first with some surprise, but her expression quickly softened.

"Indeed I should continue to do so," she said, "sparing thy conscience thus as I do with the rabbits and deer and pheasants and grouse."

Beinvír chuckled but her partner's dour expression brought her to concern.

"Doth thy prey indeed look upon thee with terror or beseech thee for mercy? How sad."

Helluin sighed and said, "I recall a field hen's resignation, expressed in a beaky sigh and the fall of an egg, and the expiration of a rabbit with such tiresome theatrics that I was't tempted to fire a second arrow simply that it cease its drama."

Beinvír regarded her companion with such a look of horror that Helluin could not restrain her mirth and a cackle escaped her lips. Beinvír narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Finally Helluin gave up and guffawed and was't then left warding off the flurry of mock blows that rained o'er her shoulders and armored chest until at last the two ellith lay laughing o the soft grass.

"Perhaps I shalt send thee for a time only to prey upon shellfish," Beinvír mused.

"Come, let us walk apace," Helluin said at last, rising and stretching out her hand to her partner. Beinvír accepted it and let Helluin pull her to her feet.

"Whither now doth we go?" She asked.

Helluin laid an arm about Beinvír's shoulders and led the Green Elf through a pleasant open wood of mixed trees, heading ever uphill away from the river. The path soon brought them to the summit where was't set a raised battlement of stone and upon it a carven chair, almost a throne, looking south, out o'er the treetops falling to the escarpment, and thence down Anduin to Mindolluin.

"Hither is Amon Hen, Hill of the Eye," the dark Noldo said, gesturing Beinvír to follow her up the flight of stairs that led to the platform upon which the Seat of Seeing was't set.

At the top, they surveyed the surrounding land. The pinnacle of Tol Brandir stood to their east above the forest canopy, while slightly to its south the mist from the falls rose in a rainbowed cloud. Beyond stood the heights of the Emyn Muil across Anduin, and there upon the nearest hill a similar high seat could be glimpsed. Beinvír looked from it to Helluin in question.

"'Tis the seat of Amon Lhaw, Hill of the Ear, whereupon is the Seat of Hearing."

"For what purpose hath the Men of Gondor built such?" The Green Elf asked, wondering indeed what they hoped to hear o'er the roar of the falls.

"They hath said that they seek high places to survey their realm and to keep watch upon the Enemy. Hither can the sharpest amongst them perceive much, or so 'tis claimed. Take thyself a seat and _see_," Helluin offered.

Beinvír looked at the massive stone chair with some misgiving. The pedestal atop the hill where they stood was a good vantage point already, and to her mind, she saw just fine upon her own feet. Had the Dúnedain laid some magick upon the seat of Amon Hen? Beinvír cared not to discover it. She looked back at Helluin intending to decline.

"G'wan, thou know'th the limits of the magick of mortal Men," Helluin chided, "most of which indeed came of our kindreds aforetime. Thou hast 'naught to fear from their works, I deem…or art thou afraid of seeing again the faces of all those creatures thou hast eaten in the last four thousand years?"

Beinvír laughed and then nodded in agreement, and against her lingering doubts she sat.

Now Helluin and Beinvír had come to Amon Hen with no thought of stealth, and indeed the woods all about them were at peace. No foul creatures or foes stood 'nigh, and from all mortal enemies they were safe. But to come thus to that high place was't to be seen as well as to gain a vantage from which to see, at least for one to whom distance held little consequence. Since the time of the building of those places, Sauron Gorthaur had kept a watch upon Rauros; a part of one eye and one ear were attuned thus northwards from his realm, and he marked the presence of two ellith upon the Hill of the Eye.

_Lo and behold! Of all who might come thither, 'tis Helluin Maeg-mórmenel and her little friend. So they seek vision? Very well, I shalt oblige them!_ Far away in Mordor a dark chuckled shook the stones of the Barad-dúr.

Now when Beinvír sat upon the Seat of Seeing it seemed to her that a veil was't drawn across the breadth of her sight. Thence as in a dense fog she stood, but a moment only ere the vapor cleared. Then she found herself alone and cold and in a dark place of stone, a cell or dungeon perhaps, for she saw strong bars of iron before her. The air was't damp and stank of mildew and worse. She tried to turn and found her wrists shackled to the wall behind her, her arms spread wide to her sides. A collar too she discerned about her neck and her ankles were fixed to rings in the floor. Then in the pit of her belly she felt a shiver of fear; some fell thing approached! Beyond the bars a shape moved in the dark. 'Twas a thing in Man's shape but darker than the shadows. The fear inside her rose with its approach and she whimpered and gritted her teeth. Her heart was chill as ice within her. The dark one came to the bars and set upon them his hands, great and strong they were, but black as with disease and a stench came with them, and upon a finger of the right hand, a Ring! A cruel chuckle filled her ears and words came into her mind in a voice of cold menace that seemed to peel the flesh from her bones. _Delicious fear! Almost is it a shame to take it from thee._ Against her bonds she struggled in panic as the blackened hands wrenched open her cell. 'Twas hopeless! She was't lost!

And then she was lifted and wrenched from the Seat of Seeing, and about her the day was bright and warm and she was shuddering uncontrollably in Helluin's arms. Her eyes were fixed and wide with terror.

"Beinvír! Thou art safe! I am here, _meldanya_! I hath thee! What horrors did thou see?" Helluin asked frantically, looking into the pallid face of her lover. "What fell vision hath given thee such a fright?"

The Green Elf was only able to blubber incoherently, as she tried desperately to believe what her senses now told her; she was't safe in Helluin's arms and the day was fine. She had seen a vision, indeed a nightmare, but nothing more. Yet it filled her with foreboding and horror and the effect of it was't slow to pass. 'Twas long ere she tried to explain.

"I s-saw a c-cell, d-dark and b-bitter, wherein I was't ch-chained," she said, "a-and th-then one came to m-me, his b-b-body black with rotting, a-and h-he wore a Ring…."

Helluin had heard enough! She leapt into the Seat of Seeing and bent all her will southeast. Into the Shadow upon Mordor she cast her sight, seeking Barad-dúr and the tormentor of her beloved. Hot wrath was't upon her and blue flared the fire of her eyes. 1,735 years before she had told her newly returned friend Glorfindel, _I would bathe this world in blood to avenge her,_ and that sentiment was't even stronger now than aforetime. Upon the height of Amon Hen, the Seat of Seeing blazed with Light as if it held a star.

_Craven bastard! _Her mind screamed. _Face me now if only from the safety of thy tower. Hath thou not the courage for it? Thou fled me aforetime! _And she cursed Sauron and derided him in her rage, and at last from the safety of his tower he dared come forth to answer. In a moment he was't there, his presence dimming the sunlight upon Amon Hen.

_Great favor hath I shown thy sidekick, O Helluin. Greatly should thou thank me for gifting her a vision of what is to come. Few upon Arda art so favored. Ingrate! But now thou hast come to me of thine own free will and I am loath to excuse thee save by mine. I shalt be thy master._

There commenced a grim contest of the spirit and long did it last as Anor tracked across the heavens. Beinvír watched her beloved wrestle in thought with her enemy and could only marvel at her daring, even as she quaked in fear. Yet Helluin had won just such a contest aforetime. O'er 1,800 years before she had repelled Sauron's attack and shielded herself from his Eye and his Ring. Now she was't ablaze, not only with hatred of her enemy, but also was't she impassioned by the trespass he had committed against her beloved.

Sauron sought to bend her to his will while she lashed out against him. Across the distance between them Sauron's advantage was't attenuated, for he was't projecting his power across 275 miles. Worse, his target was't very strong and the venom of her hate for him made her yet more formidable. Here he had not the advantage of surprise that he had enjoyed on the Re i Anaro in 1600, and even then it had availed him not and he had failed. She had retained control of the Sarchram and her fëa. Not since his defeat by Lúthien at Minas Tirith had he been bested in a contest of wills. Yet now, 'cross all the miles that lay between them, Helluin had attacked him! Indeed 'twas the second time, for Helluin had come against him openly with arms in 1700. Now indeed he knew doubt.

Slowly Helluin fought back the Shadow that sought to encompass her and bend her in thrall 'neath his will. Even with his Ring he could not master her with any greater success than aforetime. Indeed she was't not so direly pressed now as then. Almost she could feel her Light forcing back his Shadow as it beat against her, and she realized something else; in opening himself to this contest, he had opened an etheric channel between their fëar. He was't as vulnerable as she!

Helluin's hand crept to her waist and slowly she unclasped and raised the Grave Wing. On the immaterial battlefield upon which they fought, it blazed with a light of mingled silver and gold, and when it spoke, it spoke in Quenya with her own voice, for it was't indeed linked to her in spirit.

"_Tyár antatye a ni i fëa sio ainu_**¹**_?"_ The Grave Wing asked in hopeful anticipation.__**¹**(_**Tyár antatye a ni i fëa sio ainu? **_**"Doth thou give to me the spirit of this Maia?" **= _**tyára- **_(do) + _**anta- **_(give) + _**-t(ye)-**_(subj pro, you) + _**a **_(to) + _**ni**_(ind subj pro, me) + _**i **_(the) + _**fëa**_ (spirit) + _**si-**_(this) +_**-o**_(gen, of) + _**ainu**_(god) Quenya)

"_É! Sa nátya ten i yavandie__**,**_**¹" **Helluin replied through teeth gritted in concentration.** ¹** (_**É! Sa nátya ten i yavandie **_**"Indeed! 'Tis thine for the harvesting." **_**= é**_(indeed!) + _**sa **_(it) + _**ná-**_(is) + _**-tya**_(poss suff, yours) + _**ten **_(for) + _**i **_(the) + _**yavanda- **_(harvest) +_**-ie**_(action suff, -ing) Quenya)

Sauron looked upon the Grave Wing as it appeared to him in the ethereal plane whereon he and Helluin fought. He weighed the possible consequences very seriously and his judgment was't colored with doubt for he had read the incantation upon it aforetime. The Sarchram would find him; Helluin's focused hatred would insure that, and the spell upon it was't indeed as fell and potent as any he himself could cast. Yet unlike the spell upon his Ring which was't intended to eternally enslave, this one sought only to destroy. _One ring to send them all unto the Void and in its darkness bind them_. His vanquished master, greatest of the Valar, had been consigned to the Void, and never had Sauron heard aught from him since. Greatly did Sauron fear joining him. And this contest was't neither easy nor was't its outcome assured. He had not gained his sought after mastery o'er Helluin. Indeed he was't at best but maintaining a stalemate. In that moment, Sauron judged that he had more to lose than to gain and he withdrew, sealing himself from her with a roiling miasma of black vapors.

Then for a moment Helluin sat alone upon the Seat of Seeing, and ere she retracted her consciousness another will, benign and far greater than Sauron's, revealed its own vision of the future to her. It came upon her at once and there was't no escaping it.

Across undetermined Ages a warrior like in form unto herself stood at bay in a winter forest shabbied by countless years, and onto her finger she slid a heavy ring of gold. A fallen broadsword sword leapt up into her waiting hand, while in her other she clasped a Sarchram. Then she moved with Elven prowess, defeating a trio of female warriors, a caped Maia, and what Helluin thought might be an Onod fallen into Shadow. The warrior fought with graceful power in a breathtakingly lethal display of preternatural skill. Brown was't the leather of her battle dress and of yellow bronze was't wrought her scrollwork armor. Bracers and greaves she wore, but neither hauberk or helm nor mail or plate. And yet there was't a fire in her blue eyes and lust of battle ruled her.

_Whence come'th thee? Art thou indeed of Elven kind, or some valiant daughter of Númenor perhaps? Some kinswoman embattled and standing alone? I would know and aid thee! _But unto Helluin no answers came. And then as quickly as it had come, the vision vanished.

Helluin shook her head to clear it and looked out upon Anduin, down the hazy miles of Gondor towards the Sea. There all seemed at peace. She glanced down and saw Beinvír gazing up at her consumed with worry. She sighed. Again, for all her courage and all her wrath she had accomplished nothing. She rose from the seat and wrapped an arm around her beloved, and then together they left Amon Hen. To her vision no answer would come for years beyond count, and Helluin, knowing the vagary of such, let it not weigh upon her mind.

For the next three days Helluin and Beinvír followed the western shore of Nen Hithoel, the great lake amidst the Emyn Muil upon Anduin. Soon enough they left an alluvial slope at the water's edge, for the shoreline rose in tall cliff faces that dropped sheer down to the water. Upon the third day they came to the abrupt end of the cliffs, which rose behind them as a natural gateway to the lands south.

The two ellith stopped 'nigh the gates upon the river, for to the north the Anduin ran in a channel deep and narrow. South beyond the gates, wherefrom they had traveled, Nen Hithoel opened up and the banks was't lower but no less precipitous. Here the ground atop the cliffs grew treacherous. The limestone layer they stood upon had been eroded from inside, leaving fissures and sinkholes, and crumbled boulders that hid collapsed tunnels and caves. 'Twas obvious that most traffic passed this place upon the river, yet a seldom used, narrow and winding track could be seen. Upon this Helluin and Beinvír made their way north, straying not and staying close together.

They marched there the rest of that day and most of the next, and at evening came upon those rapids called Sarn Gebir. Here was't a cataract upon Anduin, a mile of white water churned by rock and undertow that would swallow any craft set upon it. To bypass it, a path had been laid a furlong inland for the portage of light boats and the passage of travelers afoot. This Helluin and Beinvír took, grateful for the fresh paving stones set there, and they walked thus north in the lee of a cliff face, ignoring the trails that led down to the boat landings upon the river.

Another three days they spent walking north ere the Emyn Muil failed and a final descent down a steep wall on a winding path led them to the southern downs and a westward curve in the river. The two continued along Anduin for two more days and ere setting camp on the second night, Helluin noted the beginning of a curve east in the banks.

"On the morrow shalt we cross," she explained to Beinvír that night, "for we hath reached the South Undeep upon Anduin. Better we should ford hither than continue north, for thence should we come through the Wold. 'Tis not an unpleasant land, being rolling and wooded hills, but more easily shalt we make our way to Greenwood by skirting the Brown Lands to the east and then marching due north when the downs reach their end."

Beinvír nodded in agreement, though in truth it made little difference to her. She saw not the wooded and hilly land as a hardship, nevertheless the Green Elf was't willing to follow Helluin's greater acquaintance with these lands. Thus upon the following morn they waded Anduin at the South Undeep, a relative term well 'nigh a misnomer for they were both soaked to the skin ere they made the thither shore.

"Surely the Brown Lands must be an inconvenience of astonishing proportions to make thus the soaking of our rations and clothing the easier path to take," Beinvír chaffed as she wrung the water from her bedroll. Helluin gave her a sheepish look.

"Indeed I was't told aforetime by the Men of the Southlands that hither lay the easiest crossing," Helluin muttered apologetically as he shook out her hair. "The midstream 'twas up to my chest and forced thou to swim." Beinvír gritted her teeth.

"Helluin, the Men of these lands art horsemen and upon horseback such advice would be sound," she said. "Hither the riverbed hath safe footing. There art gentle banks, and an easy current. 'Tis perfect for crossing riders but less than ideal for walkers."

The Noldo sighed and nodded in agreement; the Men she had spoken with were farmers of Gondor and their horses dragged only plows. No great adventurers were they, whether upon horseback or afoot. She belatedly realized that such advice was't certainly secondhand at best, heard and repeated from words spoken by traders come south out of Rhovanion. 'Twas a testimony to the security of the land of the kings that Men from so far now ventured down Anduin all the way to Osgiliath for the trade. Times changed, lands changed, and the people that lived upon them changed with the times. Such they soon discovered when they made their way from the downs.

Now that country south of the ever retreating verge of Greenwood had of old been in turn rich homesteaded farmland, barren waste burnt in the southward migration of evil creatures to Mordor, and again uninhabited wilds. Of late Men had come there again to settle, and for the last few hundred years had tilled the earth and sown the soil, and their homesteads and villages knew peace and marvelous prosperity. Hither were villages and small towns, with outlying farmlands and rich orchards. And though here Men dwelt but a few hundred miles north of Cirith Gorgor and Udûn and the Black Land, none had come thither from the south with war in many lifetimes. In hope and with the shortened memory of mortals they had made this land their home.

In the prosperity of their agriculture the Men indeed had aid. Though they appeared not to the two ellith, in those times some few of the last remaining Entwives had found their way thither. These spread their virtue and blessings upon fields and orchards, vineyards and even the very soil itself, tending all with quiet joy and care. Had they known, Helluin and Beinvír could hath borne tidings of great joy north, but alas, 'twas not to be.

Though rare were the visits of the Eldar amongst their people in those days, Men and Elves were not yet wholly estranged and Helluin and Beinvír were welcomed warmly by those they met. Oft would one upon the road ask after their people and what tidings they could tell of the wider world, and more than once some farmer offered them conveyance in his wagon for to rest their feet and fill his ears. Nights they oft times spent in a farmhouse or a village tavern where they were given food and drink and asked many questions, and both children and elders delighted in their stories. Such tales they more easily coaxed from the Green Elf than the Noldo, and Beinvír found herself in the role of bard with a circle of faces about her, their attention captured by her words as much as enthralled by her beauty. At such times Helluin would slip into the shadows in the rear of the room and sip a tankard as she watched her beloved hold all spellbound.

In the fair Green Elf, old women saw a beautiful daughter, gaffers the long faded dream of their wives in their prime, and children an enchanted princess come amongst them from some distant land. With her words came pictures to their minds of places far away and times long fled into legend. All seemed to love her and they doted upon her to the point of embarrassment. Yet Beinvír was constantly good natured and graceful about it, ever accommodating her audiences with one more tale of some strange realm, or of some wondrous creatures, or of some people swallowed by the passing years.

Helluin listened and shook her head sadly. When war next came upon them all these folk and all they knew would be wiped away as had happened aforetime, and there was 'naught that she could do for it. No natural barrier lay 'twixt these fair, flat lands and Mordor. None of these people were soldiers. Even had they arms and a militia, far too few would they be to deter the advance of such an enemy. Their best hope would be in flight; north into Greenwood, or west out of harm's way, as had been done by the countless refugees of the 1100s ere she had first espied the Black Tower abuilding. History would repeat itself. She was't sure of it. 'Twas indeed only a matter of when.

**To Be Continued**

7


	60. In An Age Before Chapter 60

**In An Age Before – Part 60

* * *

**

Now when Helluin and Beinvír had journeyed north to Greenwood they found the forest quiet and peaceful, yet 'neath all there lay again a watchful air though no _Huorns_ did they spy. The two ellith made their way forthwith to Laiquadol, seeking after Oldbark. At his hall they were greeted by a mockingbird who serenaded them with songs of the Blessed Realm that its forefathers and foremothers had learnt of old from Helluin in 1710.

"Hoooo-hoom, by bark and bough, if it isn't the wandering Elfling and her friend," the Onod said, appearing before them from a thicket so unexpectedly that even Helluin started. He offered them a broad smile and greeted them with his 'hasty' version of their names. "Helluin of the Host of Finwe also called Maeg-mórmenel, and Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador her friend and companion on the road, welcome again to Calenglad i'Dhaer."

The two ellith bowed to the Lord of Greenwood.

"Our thanks for thy welcome, my Lord," Beinvír said, "Glad art we to again enjoy thy realm of peace and dappled green." The Onod favored her a smile, well-pleased at her words of praise for his homeland, brief as they were.

"Indeed so," Helluin said, "it hast been long since last we walked 'neath thy trees and took pleasure in thy unspoiled realm. I hope thou hast been well?"

"I have been as ever since last you took your leave…in the rain, if I recall correctly that time," he said with a chuckle. Helluin groaned at the memory of their long and soaked walk to Umbar. She and Beinvír had been miserable for many, many days upon that journey. Beside her, Beinvír rolled her eyes. "Rains in such measure come but once in a thousand cycles of the seasons," he mused innocently, "and it is ever astonishing to those of shorter memory, I deem. Still, I trust you achieved your goal?"

"I know not which discomfited us the more, the rains at the start of our trek or the parching heats and the discovery of the stumbling of the Númenóreans at its end," Helluin confessed. She shook her head at the memories of Tindomul. "Know thou that one whom we met in that time hast indeed fallen deep into Shadow?"

At this, Oldbark canted his head to the Noldo and harkened to her words with greater attention. "No, I knew it not, but I deem you have a story to tell that may weigh heavily on things to come. So tell me thy tale, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel explorer of the Host of Finwe."

Thereafter Helluin related the story of their first meeting with Tindomul in Umbar in 1847, and Oldbark's many questions drew out the telling such that a night and part of the next day were spent ere they passed on to the time that the two Elves had spent ruling the land of Lebennin at Galadriel's request.

"Ohhhhhh-hoooo! So the Golden Princess and her Silver Prince are now the regents of Belfalas," Oldbark mused. "I had often wondered if King Lenwe would ever sail off into the sunset. I remember him as a young ellon, saddened at the sundering of his people from their kin, but resolved to make a home in the south. I am glad for him, I suppose, though I'm sure things are different in Edhellond without him. Still that is the way of things, is it not? The old seek the peace of home while the young seek after power and adventure. I assume your story of young Tindomul goes on though, and from what you said earlier, to a bad end."

"Indeed 'tis so, my Lord," Beinvír said, "and 'twas an end worse than most." She shivered at the memory and then turned to Helluin, for 'twas her story to tell.

Helluin nodded and took up the tale again. She told of their continued rule of Lebennin and the attempt to take Pelargir by the King's Men of Númenor in 2003. Therein Helluin related the tale of her defeat and slaying of Tindomul, and of how he had disappeared before their eyes, progressing from doomed mortal to immortal wraith.

"Upon that day he wore a Ring," she told the Onod, "and indeed 'twas one of the Nine of Celebrimbor. 'Twas perverted and enchanted by Sauron to ensnare the spirit of a Man, and thence bind it, forever subservient to his will, just as the Ring that Tindomul wore shalt be forever subject to the dominion of the One."

"He hast become one of the Úlairi," Beinvír said, "one of the Enemy's nine servants who arose to serve him with terror. They art fell enemies, Lord Oldbark, unseen yet felt."

Oldbark fell silent a while at these tidings, but then he spoke of secrets he had come upon in the years since the war. They had been told in the whispers of trees, passed upon the rustle of leaves from Nanduhirion through Lórinand and thence to Greenwood.

"Mmmmm-hmmmm. Now I feel some fear for your stout friends in Hadhodrond, Helluin. 'Tis King Durin come again who rules there; he being the fourth of that ancient name. I have heard tell that he wears a great ring of gold, and never before has a lord of that realm come into such riches. Now after hearing your tale I must wonder on that ring; from whence did it come? What effects does wearing it bring? It is true, is it not, that poor doomed Celebrimbor made also Seven Rings for the Gonnhirrim? Is it not also true that Sauron captured these during the war? Now I fear he is trying to make the Naugrim his servants as well."

Helluin and Beinvír regarded Oldbark with horror. 'Twas bad enough that Morgoth's Lieutenant had poisoned the people of Númenor and brought about the destruction of the Isle of Kings. But when Númenor had fallen, its fall was't amidst Belegaer and far from Mortal Shores. Hadhodrond lay amidst the Hithaeglir, and if it was't to fall like Númenor had aforetime, then its destruction t'would wreck havoc upon all known lands, even to the extent that the sinking of Beleriand had done at the end of the First Age.

But before that happened, what fate would ensnare the Dwarves? If Sauron mastered the will of the Folk of Durin, the consequences could be terrifying. Never had the soldiers of that mansion come against the free peoples of the west with war. Yet deep in their halls stood a vast army of fell folk, armed and trained, and they would prove deadly adversaries to any unlucky enough to face them.

The soldiers of Khazad-dum were no Yrch or mortal Men. They were hardier, longer lived, and greater in numbers. In the time of the war their army had numbered o'er 30,000, but that had been 1,715 years before. Their count could be well 'nigh 50,000 now, and perhaps more. And Oldbark had said they were ruled by Durin IV, the wealthiest lord in memory. Yet even bereft of treasure, one of that hallowed name would hold the loyalty of his people without question. They would fight to the death at his command, and from Khazad-dum they would be able to strike either Rhovanion or Eriador at will, while'st behind their great gates they would be unassailable. Combined with the forces now mustering in the Black Land…the possibilities were too terrible to consider.

"Doth thou know whence came this Ring to the Lord of Khazad-dum?" Beinvír asked.

"I should guess the Ring came to Hadhodrond at some time during your tenure as regents in Lebennin," Oldbark said, "but from where, I know not."

Beinvír looked at Helluin and rolled her eyes. Oldbark's timeframe hardly narrowed the possibilities down by much. She and her partner had ruled Lebennin for o'er 1,100 years.

Helluin sighed. 'Twas the same timeframe in which Sauron had ensnared the spirit of Tindomul. By 2250 he had his nine Úlairi. In the second millennium of the Second Age, Sauron had been busy dealing out his captured Rings. Now Helluin was't indeed torn in thought. 'Twas indeed her first impulse to hasten thither to Khazad-dum and there assess the temperament of the Naugrim, but that course was't fraught with danger. What if the Dwarves were indeed corrupted by Sauron's Ring and even now laying plans for the conquest of the west? They would certainly offer her no welcome, past friendship aside, and into such a hostile camp she could never take Beinvír.

Of course Durin IV's Ring might be no more than a ring crafted of gold from his mines, and his wealth no more than the due of his peoples' labors. She could hardly come before the Lord of Hadhodrond and accuse him of being allied with Sauron. No, if she were to attempt to learn the truth of Khazad-dum, she could only succeed in some less confrontational way. She thought long upon it and at last one possibility came to mind.

"I think I shalt take a short journey 'cross the river," Helluin declared, "no more than a fortnight, I deem, and I hath no intention of walking out from 'neath the sun."

Beinvír furrowed her brow, wondering how indeed her partner intended to delve the secrets of Hadhodrond without entering its warrens and tunnels and halls. Oldbark merely regarded her, one corner of his lips twitching, obviously having expected no less.

The fourth day after found Helluin and Beinvír passing through Lórinand with the blessing of King Amdír. Indeed when he learnt the purpose and direction of their travels he assigned a company of the northern guard to accompany them to the border. In that march went Haldir and Rúmil, one of the march warden's two brothers.

"Anxiously shalt we await thy tidings, O Helluin," Rúmil said, speaking for them all.

Helluin had met him but once before, on her first visit to Lórinand after the creation of the Sarchram in 1123. He had been out upon patrol at each of her subsequent visits. Beinvír, whom he seemed hard pressed to tear his eyes from, had never met him aforetime.

"Despite our alliance in the war, our people hath held of late increasingly less converse with the Folk of Durin," he said. "Indeed hindsight reports that such estrangement began in the years long ere Durin IV took the throne."

"But slowly did it begin, Helluin," Haldir added, elbowing his brother to break his glance yet again from Beinvír, "and that being in the time of Durin's grandfather…sometime about 2150. In the last 1300 years our estrangement hath only increased, until now it seems to me centuries since aught hath passed 'twixt Hadhodrond and Lórinand. I find I regret the silence."

"I am amazed to hath learnt none of this aforetime," Helluin said. She had not visited Khazad-dum since leading thither Ishkabibúl in 2995. In that time their welcome had been warm and the Lord Khráin had done them honor. Whether or not he had worn a ring, she could not recall. In any case, at that time she had sensed no darkness upon the folk of Hadhodrond. She shook her head. 'Twas but one way to find out.

The next day Helluin and Beinvír found themselves in a vale north of Nanduhirion, some ways upslope upon the southern arm of Fanuidhol. A thin column of smoke they had spied from the lowland the evening before, and towards this they had made their way through the morn and into the afternoon.

"We should be getting close, I deem," Helluin said as she made her way around a boulder. There was a vague path before her and she had been letting it guide her.

"We may well be closing upon the site of last night's fire," Beinvír agreed, "but that says 'naught of wheresoever those who made it might be now."

Helluin shrugged and said nothing. Beinvír was't correct and yet she had few other choices. Even were they to come upon their quarry, she would need a great measure of luck. Her eyes caught a disturbance in the dirt; the partial print of a boot smaller than her own and a short stride forward of it, a turned stone. She allowed herself a smile.

Not a half hour later they came upon the remains of a campsite and the burnt out ring of a fire. Helluin nodded to herself.

"A party of six slept hither," Beinvír declared with certainty after a quick look around, "and they art Naugrim. It seems thy hopes art answered, _meldanya._"

"Perhaps…" Helluin said. "Come, they hath made their way yet further uphill."

The two ellith continued upslope apace, but now they heard scraping and the clink of a pickaxe and the scrape of a shovel. They made their way towards the sounds, until they caught a glint of light reflected off a tool and a shift of movement.

"Hail and well met, my friends," Helluin called out in greeting. Immediately the heads of three Dwarves popped up between the boulders at the base of an outcrop.

"Helluin?" An excited Dwarf scrabbled out of the boulders and stood atop a flat rock for a better look. "Helluin! 'Tis thou indeed…and Beinvír! Bless my beard!"

Beinvír grinned and waved, then stopped in shock, realizing the true count of years.

"Ishkabibúl! Hail and well met! Glad am I too see thee again, and gladder still to find thee practicing thy craft." The Green Elf quickly made her way up the path with light steps, Helluin just behind her. At first her mouth dropped open in amazement. After 415 years, the Dwarf of Nogrod looked little more than 100 years older. She looked to Helluin in confusion but her partner could only shrug. She had originally hoped to find his son or someone who had known him well perhaps.

_Maybe 'tis some virtue from his stay in the house of Iarwain? I cannot explain it._

"My friends, I owe my present station to thy kindness aforetime, for without thy aid I should still be lost in the house of Iarwain," Ishkabibúl said with the expansive praise so characteristic of the Naugrim. "Thou hast my thanks until my beard falls out and I am stooped with age…nay, until I am entombed 'neath the mountain's heart."

He laid a hand upon his breast and bowed deeply to them. Helluin and Beinvír bowed to him in return, though less formally. Behind him the other Dwarves gathered, breaking from their labors to witness the cause of his excitement. In short order Ishkabibúl waved them forward and introduced them.

"Here art my fellow prospectors, Ickli, Bristle and his brother Gristle, Strain, and his cousin Sprain." He turned to them and introduced the two ellith. "Here art my saviors and benefactors, Helluin of the Noldor and Beinvír of the Laiquendi."

The five Dwarves bowed to the two Elves and several cast their eyes upon Helluin with expressions of question.

"Yes, yes, 'tis indeed she," Ishkabibúl said, then leaned close amongst them and whispered to them in Khuzdul. The prospectors' eyes bulged in response.

Helluin, whose Elven ears had heard his words chuckled and said silently to her partner, _he astonishes them by naming me the prospector who found the Barazinbar Spur, the longest producing vein of mithril yet discovered. They art well impressed indeed._

_So thou hast yet another title, my love,_ Beinvír replied,_ Prospector Extraordinaire of Khazad-dum._

"Hath thou had good fortune in thy search, my friend?" Helluin asked to break the following awkwardness and silence that had settled o'er the Dwarves.

"Nay, we hath not," Ishkabibúl said in disgust. He looked at the landscape about them and shrugged. "Hither were once the surface mines of this realm in days of yore, and there art strata folded and uplifted such as should bring to light some ores, and yet we hath searched thus far for 'naught."

"I think we hath but revisited many sites rejected of old," added Bristle.

"This land hath been picked o'er for thousands of years," Ickli stated, "and I doubt there is aught to be found now. Our eyes art not so much finer than those of our forefathers."

Helluin nodded in agreement. The prospecting had undoubtedly begun in the starlight ere the First Age of the Sun. She looked about absently, noting the eroded layers of an ancient _anticline_**¹** and a volcanic dome of intruded basalt. It showed as a black crystalline shadow amidst shorn layers of different colored rocks. She eyed it speculatively, recalling the lessons that Gneiss son of Gnoss had taught her 3,300 years before.

**¹**(**anticline, **a geological term describing layered strata of rock that have been folded upwards in a hump, often side-by-side with a **syncline,** or layers of rock down-folded into a valley.)

"Perhaps thou might pick away somewhat towards the top of yonder dome," she said, pointing out the dark igneous intrusion upslope from where they stood."

Ishkabibúl squinted as he looked down her finger at the wall before them.

"May as well," he said, "'twas to be examined later anyway."

He snatched up a pickaxe and paced uphill towards the basalt, with Strain and Sprain behind him and the Elves following somewhat further back. The other prospectors shrugged and watched for a bit, then returned to their own investigations.

By climbing three fathoms up the wall of roughly fractured strata adjacent to the dome, Ishkabibúl was't able to reach the apex of the dome and there he swung his pick in solid strokes, spraying chips of the hard rock with each impact. After a dozen swings he stopped and carefully looked at the area he'd worked, grunted to himself, and resumed his labor. After a number of repetitions he more carefully swung his pick, eventually breaking off a chunk of stone which he placed in a knapsack ere he climbed down at last.

When he rejoined the others at the foot of the wall he brought out the sample he'd taken. Amidst the black rock lay bright, clear crystals, most tiny, but one well 'nigh the size of his thumb.

"In truth I had hoped for ores of metals, and indeed for such were we sent thither," he said, though he was unable to keep a broad smile from his face. "I had no thought to search for Varda's Tears."

In the sunlight the thumb-sized crystal sparkled and reflected a bright white light. Faceted and set amidst precious metals, the diamond would still be of admirable size and would command a fine price. The faces of the other two prospectors brightened. Their sojourn in the mountains this day would not be in vain.

They thanked Helluin effusively and then set about freeing more of the crystals from the dome. In short order their three companions joined them on the rock wall while the Elves sat and watched through the afternoon. By evening the Dwarves had extracted a surprising number of rough gems in several colors, and they cavorted merrily by their campfire, singing, drinking, and feasting on what remained of their rations, for they would return to Hadhodrond on the morrow.

"Yet again I owe thee my thanks, Helluin," Ishkabibúl said for the hundredth time, "and in token of my thanks I shalt hath a stone cut and set for thee in bright gold. Would thou prefer a ring, or a pendant perhaps, or maybe a fillet to bind thy brow?"

Helluin as ever first thought to decline, but then an inspiration came to her and she took the Dwarf aside and spoke softly to him for a short while. He chuckled and nodded ere they clasped forearms to seal their bargain. Thereafter both returned to the campfire smiling and neither would divulge what had passed between them.

Now as the evening wore on, Helluin progressed to that topic for which she had come thither in the first place, and she asked after the ways of Khazad-dum and the wellbeing of its lord. In this she was't as subtle as 'twas possible while still conveying her questions and gleaning what information she could.

"I hath heard a report that of late thy realm is indeed ruled by the Lord Durin, come again unto his people after many years," she said, "and I hope thou hast at last had thy wish fulfilled, to come before the Lord Durin in his ancient halls of Khazad-dum."

At this Ishkabibúl eyes brightened with happiness and he nodded so vigorously that his beard flapped up and down in his lap.

"Indeed 'tis so, Helluin, and that shortly after his coming to the throne. He met with many in those days, and myself as well, for he had heard my story. I confess that my tongue fairly cleaved to my mouth at first and few were the words I could utter in his presence, but ere long he put me at ease and we spoke for some time together of Iarwain and the land of Eriador which I had seen when I traveled with thou and the others.

I found him a gracious lord, Helluin, wise beyond his years, and magnetic; he would command the respect of many even were his name other than it is. He hath inspired all who dwell in Khazad-dum. All labor to raise yet higher our home, his kingdom, and for many reasons, not the least of which being his praise. Craftsmen work with inspiration as of old, creating great works in metals and stone. We miners hath discovered many riches both 'neath the mountains and outside our halls. The army trains harder than ever before. All press themselves, for by elevating their parts they honor him.

I recall the Lord of Nogrod of my time. He was't a fine lord and a great leader of his people, but Durin IV stands a league beyond him in all respects. Never had I thought to find myself part of something so much greater than the sum of its parts."

"He is wealthy then, and powerful beyond his fathers, and yet a noble lord, unspoiled by his successes," she asked, nodding in approval. Ishkabibúl had been effusive in his praise and she was't curious to see if he would reinforce his words or qualify them.

"Durin is wealthy and powerful beyond any that hath come before," the Dwarf agreed, "and though he could spend his time gloating o'er his riches, he is more oft seen amongst his people, greeting the craftsmen, hearing reports from the miners and explorers, and reviewing the army. Oft does he make grants from his treasury for the easing of some problem in our realm and he is lavish in his rewards for service to his house. Our lord is the patron of many civic projects and in so doing seeks to birth a host of public works. He hath commissioned the refitting of the Durin's Tower which hath stood since the last Age, and paid to extend the carving begun in the days of Ost-In-Edhil. He is as a lord of old, or at least much as stories portray them, and I know of none who hath fault with him…a rare thing in a realm where many art in competition for favor and markets."

"Aye, all love him and do him honor and count themselves fortunate to live in the time of his reign," Ickli stated. Several of the other prospectors also seemed to agree, for they too nodded in accord and pride shone in their eyes. 'Twas obvious these subjects held a deep love for their lord.

Helluin smiled, sincerely pleased at what she had heard. It seemed that the Ring, even if it were one of Celebrimbor's Seven, had not corrupted the heart of the Lord of Khazad-dum. Beinvír too had been listening carefully and nodding. The Ring might be no more than a ring, and without seeing it themselves, 'twas no way for them to be sure. She knew Helluin would recognize it at once, and she suspected that she too would know it on sight from having seen it once aforetime in Lindon 1,800 years ago. Now at least their suspicions about Durin seemed unfounded; there was't no evidence that the lord had fallen into shadow or that his people were entering onto a dark road.

"We art glad for thee and for thy people," the Green Elf said with a smile, "and though no fault did we find with those lords we hath known aforetime, still 'tis a wonder to me that thy people art blessed yet again with the leadership of a legend."

The Dwarves bowed their heads at her words, for to them, Durin IV was indeed the reborn spirit of Durin the Deathless, father of their people.

"Know'th thou that Helluin met the Deathless One upon his last sojourn amongst his folk," Beinvír asked, "when she came to plead the treaty of friendship 'twixt Eregion and Hadhodrond?"

Ishkabibúl alone nodded, for he recalled a conversation between Helluin and Gotli, Doorwarden of the Ennyn Durin, when he had first come to Khazad-dum. The other Dwarves looked at Beinvír in wide-eyed amazement.. 'Twas not at all natural for them to think of the Life of the Eldar in practical terms, for though all knew of it, the ramifications of it were oft times unexpected and startling. Durin III had ruled from S.A. 873 to 1141 and Helluin had come in embassy to him in 992. He had still ruled when she took her leave in 1123 following the forging of the Sarchram. It had been well 'nigh 2,300 years since those days, but Helluin was't now 7,926 years of the sun in age. 'Twas beyond the understanding of the Naugrim, such a count of days.

"Indeed so?" Gristle turned to Helluin and asked. "Thou hath met Durin aforetime?"

"On several occasions I was't embassy to his court on behalf of Ost-In-Edhil," Helluin said. "A great and noble lord he was't indeed. I think in part the treaty succeeded only because he swayed more easily than some others might, the opinions of his subjects in accepting the friendship of the Noldor of Eregion."

The prospectors sat as a captive audience, enthralled by the idea that she had known the last incarnation of their present king.

"If t'would please thee, my friend, I could take thee thither in audience before our lord," Ishkabibúl offered, "for as we hath discovered aught of value, 'tis our procedure to report it and lay thence a claim. Indeed since 'twas thou who pointed us to these riches, t'would be only fitting that thou be present to receive the lord's praise for the enrichment of his realm. Perhaps too, thou could greet again a friend of old."

Helluin looked to Beinvír as if in question as to whether they should accept such an offer. Instead she spoke silently to her beloved. _Very well done, meldanya! Thou art as crafty as thou art beautiful._

Beinvír actually blushed slightly and said, _Knowing now that our jeopardy was't slight, I thought it best that we should see this Ring for ourselves._

To this Helluin nodded and gave her partner a smile ere she turned back to Ishkabibúl.

"We would be grateful for the opportunity to come before thy lord, my friend," Helluin said. "T'would be a high honor indeed to meet again with the Lord Durin."

The prospectors were happy for her decision, for unlike Ishkabibúl, they had grown up with their realm's lore and knew somewhat of Helluin's history, though 'twas mostly concerning her involvement in the last war. Still, to bring to their lord both increased wealth and a visiting hero and ancient friend of their people could not help but add to their prestige. 'Twas a jubilant company that spoke late into the night ere they finally took their rest.

Early the next morn the prospectors gathered their packs and their tools and led the Elves to Azanulbizar gate. As they neared it, Ishkabibúl couldn't resist running to stand beside the mere of Kheled-Zâram.

"400 years and yet never doth he pass a chance to look thither," explained Bristle.

"Aye, one would think he craves a crown for his own," his brother Gristle chuckled.

Helluin looked to Beinvír, saying, _though in the past we hath come this way, never hath we tarried or looked into the still waters of yonder Kheled-Zâram. Accompany me thither?_

_Very well, I hath some curiosity about it indeed, _the Green Elf replied, _lead on._

The two ellith came to the shore of the still waters and stood closely side by side, a short distance from Ishkabibúl who was't staring down solemnly at his reflection. Together they looked into the dark waters and Beinvír gasped.

Before her eyes she saw their reflections as she had expected, but crowning them were the Seven Stars of Durin, a bright tiara despite the daylit sky above. Anor stood eclipsed by their heads and wrought a corona about them. This was't supernatural enough, but then as she continued to watch, she and Helluin's reflections wavered and vanished, leaving 'naught of them to be seen. Yet the corona remained, outlining their invisible figures!

"Ilúvatar preserve us! Art we to become wraiths?" Beinvír choked out in horror.

"'Tis rather a prescience of the Fading, I deem," the Noldo said softly. She wrapped an arm around the shuddering Green Elf, noting that the corona shifted in response to her action.

"I like it not at all," Beinvír said, tuning her gaze from the mere and staring around at the bright day. "I shalt not be surprised to find my rest haunted by this vision and that which came upon me at Amon Hen. I find I am disliking all such visions as hath been granted me of late."

"I blame thee not," Helluin soothed, softly kissing her beloved's hair. "They hath been uniformly upsetting indeed. Come, let us away."

They walked back to the others, Ishkabibúl following behind them, and continued their way to Azanulbizar Gate.

Now 'twas evening in the outside world ere the prospectors brought their honored guests to the audience chamber and came before Durin IV. The Lord of Khazad-dum Lord rose from his throne and greeted his subjects and the Elves warmly when they were announced, casting his eyes especially upon Helluin as she and Beinvír bowed before him.

"Helluin of the Noldor, explorer of the Host of Finwe," he said, smiling upon her and using the titles she had claimed of old, "long it hath been and now again thou come amongst us in friendship and for the benefit of my people. The welcome of Khazad-dum is thine as it hath been aforetime."

Helluin had straightened from her bow and stood in silence digesting the familiar voice of this Durin…identical to he whom she had known. She was't about to answer his welcome but he continued.

"Doth thou know that I still gaze upon the moonstone of Celebrimbor? All the more precious is it to me in light of all that hath come to pass since that time. Sad am I that in these latter days I am unable to greet again my old friends in Ost-In-Edhil."

"Thy wisdom in those days forged a friendship 'twixt our peoples, and though the realm of Eregion hast fallen since, of no less value is that friendship which came in those days. I too miss my friends of Ost-In-Edhil. Glad would Master Celebrimbor be to know that his gift of old brings thee joy renewed in these latter days."

"I hath heard many tales of the war in which that realm fell, and of the fate of Lord Celebrimbor," Durin said, shaking his head sadly. "Thou had much to do with the outcome of those tales, and should the pain remembered be not too great, from thy lips would I hear aught of those days, for the part of my people in that war was't limited and not to the final victories did any of my kindred march."

Helluin swallowed. The memories of that time were indeed uncomfortable but she would endure them rather than disappoint her host, a renowned king and friend of old.

"O King, I shalt be honored to tell all that thou would hear," she said.

Durin nodded and then turned to the prospectors.

"Glad am I for thy success," he said. "Steadfast and skilled art thou in the pursuit of thy craft. By thy efforts art the fortunes of our realm enriched. I thank thee and celebrate thy fortune. The realm of Khazad-dum grants thy claim and recognizes it in perpetuity."

The five prospectors bowed low to their lord.

"Ishkabibúl, I understand that thou hast had some adventures in common with our friends of old, and indeed unto thee upon _Bundushathur_**¹** came Helluin and her friend. I should like to hear at last the tale of how came thee hither from Nogrod, and no better chance shalt I hath than with all parties to that adventure present. Pray join us and sup this eve."

**¹**(**Bundushathur, **Khuzdul translation of the Sindarin _Fanuidhol_, _Cloudyhead_ in 3rd Age Westron)

At his lord's request for his presence at table, Ishkabibúl could barely bow and stutter a response. The wealth of diamonds he had discovered paled next to the value he placed in his heart upon the honor done him to be requested thus by the Lord of Khazad-dum.

"I shalt be greatly honored, my Lord, for I am ever at thy command," he managed.

Now Durin nodded to him and then to the two Elves, and he bade a chamberlain hither to lead all to rooms wherein they could rest and wash ere the board was't set. During their audience, both Helluin and Beinvír had marked the ring upon Durin's hand, and 'twas indeed a Ring; one of the Seven of Celebrimbor. And to their immense relief, there seemed to be no stain from it upon the heart of the Lord of Khazad-dum.

"Well, _meldanya,_ to say that I am astonished would leave much unsaid," Helluin admitted when they were alone in their room. "Great beyond my understanding is the craft of Aule, for of him came the Naugrim and somehow he hath wrought that the fëa of Durin should be reborn time and time again."

"So he is indeed the Durin thou knew? From his speech and recognition of thy past together I would hath judged it so," Beinvír said. "'Tis amazing, and yet the Valar themselves art beyond the understanding of the Elves."

"He is indeed the same whom I knew aforetime," Helluin said. "I should swear thus before the seat of the High King in Lindon or even were I to someday come before King Finarfin seated upon the throne of Finwe in Tirion. And greatly does it please me that he seems unaffected by the Ring he wears, though how he resists the wiles and incantations of the Enemy, I know not."

"You know, beloved, in the rebirths of Durin do I see reflected the return of those like Glorfindel who hath come again through death and the Halls of Mandos. I suppose it should not be impossible for such a fate to be also seen amongst the ancient race of the Gonnhirrim."

To this thought, Helluin fell silent and gave consideration. Whyfore should not the fate of at least one of the Naugrim be like unto that of the Eldar? In a moment of mercy they had been ensouled by the Hand of the One, just as had been the Children of the Two Kindreds. By the grace of Iluvatar the Dwarves had spirits of their own. Each was an individual with a fate and a doom. It should not be so strange that the doom of one dictated repeated service to his people, and repeated rebirth amongst them.

"Huh…thou speak with great wisdom, _meldis meldwain nin,_" Helluin finally said, "though I was't indeed shocked silent when first I confronted Glorfindel, even knowing that such 'twas possible. Hither too, despite all forewarning, I was't shocked to find one so familiar before me after so many years. Now how and whence came to him his Ring?"

"That, I suppose we shalt discern as we sup," Beinvír said hopefully, "ere we burst."

And amidst all the telling of their tales, both of the war and of Iarwain, the tale of Durin's Ring indeed was't told, and the truth of it brought a sigh of relief to Helluin and Beinvír.

**To Be Continued**

12


	61. In An Age Before Chapter 61

**In An Age Before – Part 61

* * *

**

"Doth thou know'th that in early 1601 did Celebrimbor pass through our realm enroute to Lórinand, there to visit Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn?" Durin IV asked. "He had then some urgent errand about which he begged leave not to speak. The Lord of Khazad-dúm in those days pressed him not and gave him his blessing and good wishes, for he was't long a friend to us by then. Lord Celebrimbor's errand was't achieved speedily for 'tis reported that but a moon later he returned thence to Ost-In-Edhil."

_Surely he must hath journeyed thither to seek counsel and pass on one of the Three_, Beinvír reasoned silently. To this, Helluin agreed. The Three had not been shown at the council of Gil-galad.

"We knew it not, my Lord, yet much of what came to pass in Eregion was't unknown to us in those days, for we were mostly upon the road," Helluin explained. She didn't mention that at that time she had been a nervous wreck, having just fought off the spiritual attack of Sauron. She and Beinvír had wandered Eriador thereafter, her demeanor grim, her reactions hair-trigger, and her mood suspicious. In the fall of the next year had they been called to the council of Gil-galad in Lindon, where they had met Celebrimbor, learnt of Sauron's One Ring, and seen the Seven and the Nine. Helluin was't brought from her ruminations by Durin's voice.

"Alas, I was't not present in those days, but in light of later events I suspect that he indeed went forth to warn Galadriel and Celeborn of some dire threat he had perceived. I know not in truth what was't said, but I deem it had to do with the coming of war. In any case, a year later Lord Celebrimbor came again, and after taking counsel with Narvi, sought audience before the Lord of Khazad-dúm. To him he gave a Ring, indeed the same thou see now upon my hand," and here Durin raised his hand to show the Ring, a heavy band of gold with a flashing, rectangular beryl cabochon of many facets. "I wear it in his memory and I value it as a symbol of our friendship that once was't."

Here the Lord Durin bowed his head in remembrance of the fallen craftsman whom he had known in his last incarnation. Helluin nodded, and thought it a kindness of fate that Durin had not lived through the years of the Ringmaking and the war. She also perceived two further things. The Ring Celebrimbor had given to the Lord of Khazad-dúm had never been taken by Sauron, and perhaps 'twas the only one save the Three that hadn't fallen into his hands. Sauron had never perverted it as he had the others such as the Nine. But beyond this, Durin wore his Ring as a symbol of friendship, and it turned his heart to reflection upon fond memories, not to lust for power or wealth. Perhaps such a focus gave him the strength to resist whatsoever power the Dark Lord might wield against those others who wore Celebrimbor's Rings.

_He may know not his peril, _Beinvír urgently said to her beloved, _and Sauron may assail him yet. We know the Enemy hath survived the Downfall of Númenor and 'tis only a matter of time ere he comes again with war. Durin deserves to be forewarned!_

_I agree, my love, I agree. No less can I do for an old friend, and yet I am loath to taint thus a token so dear to Durin's heart._

_Better the token tainted than his heart, think thee not?_

To this Helluin nodded agreement.

"I hath somewhat to report concerning thy Ring, O Durin," Helluin began, "for it hath been known to us aforetime. Indeed 'twas last seen by us in Lindon in late-1601, but shortly ere it was't bestowed upon the Lord of Khazad-dúm. Doth thou know of the craft of Ringmaking and how it led to the Fall of Eregion?"

Durin regarded Helluin with curiosity and looked again closely at his Ring. He shook his head, no.

"I know 'naught of the craft of Ringmaking as 'twas practiced in Ost-In-Edhil, for in my time, mostly upon the crafting of gems did the Guildsmen concentrate their efforts. Now later deeds tell of Sauron crafting a Ring for his own, to be a mighty talisman of his power, but how that concerns the Rings of Celebrimbor, I know little."

"O King, indeed 'tis true that Sauron Gorthaur hast crafted his One Ring, and this he hath imbued with his malice for to enslave those who wear Rings subject to it. In the war he captured of Celebrimbor the Nine that the craftsman made for our friends in Númenor. These he dealt out to Men he had corrupted, and upon their deaths did they become shades, evil wraiths fettered to his will, his fell servants the Úlairi." At these tidings, Durin blanched in horror. Helluin continued. "Now we know that Celebrimbor made also Seven Rings for his friends amongst the Khazad, and thine 'tis indeed one of those Seven. What we now also know is that never did thy Ring fall into Sauron's hands and never did it suffer his touch. Yet the Elves know not if it too 'tis subject to some aspect of his command, or if through it he might spy upon thy doings. Therefore I pray thee, beware."

Durin IV fairly gaped at the Noldo. Across the table, Ishkabibúl choked on his ale. The Lord of Hadhodrond stared long at his Ring ere he spoke.

"Dark art thy words, O Helluin, and dire art thy warnings. I hath felt 'naught of evil upon this Ring, yet prudence doth demand that we destroy it. No entry into our realm would any of us willingly give the Great Enemy.

And even more unsettled am I now concerning other tidings I hath heard. Know thou that there art other kindreds of our folk, ruled by the lords of other houses? Some art far, far to the east, and in truth little do we know of them, yet there art two houses of which we hear word at times. To the lords of these mansions hath come rings, 'tis said, and they hold them in high esteem for they seemed to presage great fortune. I know not how came these rings unto the hands of these lords, but if they art in fact two of the Seven of Celebrimbor and they hath been perverted by the Enemy, then great ill may come of it.

One such house lies to the north in the Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains. That folk art not allies of ours, but yet neither art they our enemies. The other house lies in the easternmost reaches of the Ered Lithui upon the borders of Mordor. 'Tis an ancient house but small, and trades, or in the past traded, mostly with the Men of Rhûn. Indeed I should not be surprised if they forged weapons for the enemy's soldiers who came out of that land in the last war. I wonder now if one or both of those houses shalt stand against us should war come again from Mordor."

Helluin sighed. The Lord Durin's words were confirmation of that which she had feared. Yet 'twas a greater relief to her to know that even should some of the Naugrim someday oppose them, those of the mighty House of Durin would remain their allies. No greater force existed amongst that people. She nodded to herself.

"My Lord Durin, I hath faith in thy people and in the friendship and alliances of old. Ever was't the House of Durin stanch in their support of the Eldar, and none would I favor more to aid me in battle. I fear that war shalt indeed come again upon us, for I know that Sauron lives, and living, he must seek to advance his malice. Yet when the time comes to bear arms against him, Khazad-dúm and the Eldar, and the Exiles of Númenor shalt stand together to oppose him as aforetime, and as aforetime he shalt be defeated.

I believe also that perhaps thou art safe, O King, for thy Ring, though 'twas crafted by Celebrimbor's hand, is unsullied still, and more, thou holds it as a token of friendship 'twixt thee and he who made it, and as a symbol of the friendship 'twixt our peoples of old. I deem the love in thy noble heart keeps it free of the Shadow, O Durin. Thus I wager that so long as thou, and those in later days who wield it, art free of the Shadow in thy hearts, then too thy Ring shalt be free of the Shadow as well. And so I hath no fear for thee."

And at these words, Ishkabibúl, who had long held Durin in well 'nigh mythic esteem, watched as the Lord of Khazad-dúm bowed his head to honor Helluin's words.

Now in the following days ere they took their leave of Khazad-dúm, Helluin and Beinvír learnt yet more of what passed 'neath the mountains. The army of the Naugrim stood then at 60,000 heavy infantry, and knowing now that war would come upon them, Durin commanded the regiments and companies to drill and elevate their readiness.

So 'twas with much honor and many words of friendship that the two ellith departed from their friends and returned down Nanduhirion to the river Celebrant. In a pouch of velvet tucked into the bodice of her battle dress, Helluin carried the setting Ishkabibúl had created, bearing the first gem of adamant taken from the basalt dome of the Hithaeglir. 'Nigh Celebrant they met again with Haldir and Rúmil and the company of the northern border guards.

"Much we hath learnt and many tidings hath we to share, my friends," Helluin said as she watched Rúmil's eyes fix yet again on Beinvír. She stifled a chuckle as the Green Elf nonchalantly wandered over to her and planted a kiss on her lips. Too her credit, she never looked towards Rúmil as she did it. Helluin wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close to her side. "We should come to King Amdír and explain what hast come to pass in Khazad-dúm."

Haldir nodded gravely and gestured them to follow him into the Golden Wood.

"…and so my Lord Amdír, while indeed King Durin doth wear one of Celebrimbor's Seven, I deem him safe from Sauron's influence," Helluin reported when she and Beinvír met with the king in his chambers. "When war comes again upon us, Khazad-dúm shalt stand with us as aforetime."

The king heaved a genuine sigh of relief and nodded. Even his shoulders, previously stooped as with a great weight of worry, seemed to straighten.

"Helluin and Beinvír, again thou hast reassured me and solved a problem that lay heavy upon this realm. Thou hast my thanks as aforetime." Then he paused theatrically and seemed to ponder some great new enigma ere he finally resumed with a question long before posed by all the Eldar. "Hath thou any guess as to when Sauron shalt assail the peoples of the west?"

"Nay, O King, though I wager it shalt be soon as the Elves see it," Helluin replied, "but though whether that be in a decade or a score of decades, I know not. All we can do is make such preparations as we can and steel ourselves against the coming onslaught. I suspect that as in the last war, the High King shalt call for an alliance…"

"Ahh, yes," Amdír interrupted, "as should any influential leader in our times. And while I and many hither in the Golden Wood recognize the necessity for all to face the Great Enemy united, still shalt there be many opposed to doing so 'neath the banners of Lindon."

To this Helluin nodded in understanding and Beinvír rolled her eyes.

"Whosoever would face the might of Mordor alone must surely be mad," the Green Elf said, shaking her head. Such a course was preposterous.

"I think rather that King Amdír expects that some allies deem themselves more equals than subjects, and shalt not accept Ereinion's supremacy as commander of the allied host," Helluin explained. King Amdír nodded in agreement.

"Just so," he agreed. "There art many hither, particularly amongst the Nandor, who would reject such an arrangement, for they feel themselves already inconvenienced by the influence of the Noldor in the Hither Lands; lands they long roamed ere the Exile and the coming of the sun and moon. Indeed, there art many still who blame the Noldor for all that hath come to pass…the War of the Jewels, the sinking of Beleriand, the War of the Elves and Sauron, and now whatever war shalt be forced upon us to resolve that affair with which Lord Celebrimbor saddled us all. Many art the grievances of those long dwelling 'nigh Anduin and even amongst those who roam beyond the Hithaeglir in Eriador. 'Tis much the same with thy folk as well, 'tis it not, Beinvír?"

To this the Green Elf could 'naught but nod her head in agreement. Dálindir and Tórferedir would never accept the commands of Gil-galad in war. Their aid had neither been requested nor sought by the Noldor in the last war, and while they would bitterly defend their homelands, they would not march abroad to battle.

"I trust King Oropher and his folk shalt march 'neath their own banners should he join such an alliance," Helluin said. "If there art any who deem that the diminished peace of Arda should be laid at the feet of my people, 'tis he."

Here King Amdír grunted in agreement. Though it had been long since last he had spoken face to face with the King of the Nandor of Greenwood, still regular messages passed between their realms, for both were largely peopled by Silvan Elves and ruled by Sindarin families more comfortable cleaving to the ways of old rather than the Beleriandic culture of the Noldor/Sindar in the First Age. Still in these realms, Sindarin was't now spoken as oft as Silvan, and many improvements in craft and culture had both peoples absorbed.

Helluin and Beinvír recalled the time they had spent in the realm of King Oropher and his son, Prince Thranduil. Fondly did they sift their memories of the company of the two, wandering for a season 'neath the trees in those years ere they had gone south to examine the troublesome reports of the Onodrim concerning Umbar. No doubt little had changed in that realm 'nigh the Emyn Duir since the early-1800s, and just such an aim had the sovereign stated. Oropher had long sought a simpler and more natural lifestyle, closer to that of the _Moriquendi,_ the Elves of Darkness, who had never completed the Westward March and seen the Light of Aman or the lands of Beleriand. He had wanted to relive the days of peace 'neath the stars, ere Morgoth had returned to Mortal Lands with the Silmarils and war. Like many, he blamed the Noldor for the loss of that earlier peace, and 'twas a grudge deeply held. Though the King and Prince were each great hearted enough to hath joined in friendship with Helluin as an individual, never would they accept the leadership of Gil-galad for their people in time of war.

"I deem it matters less whether all acknowledge Ereinion's leadership so long as all fight together against the Enemy," Helluin said at last. Yet her words brought sadness to her partner, for her people would not fight in any land save Eriador; they would not join this coming alliance. Helluin noted Beinvír's downcast eyes and knew the cause. Truth made it the more bitter.

"Were it not for thy people safeguarding their homelands," she said softly to her partner, "a great tithe of soldiers should be forced to remain at home to safeguard it against any who might invade, perhaps from the northern wastes where there art Yrch and Tor and perhaps even Urulóki, and where we now know some unfriendly Dwarves may abide. I can think of no better home guard than the Laiquendi."

To this King Amdír nodded in agreement.

"Sooth indeed, for none know'th thy lands more closely, pebble and twig, and no others can'st dispatch invaders unseen, giving thus 'naught as clues to their count or how strongly Eriador stands defended. Were I Ereinion, gratefully should I accept the guardianship of my lands by those living already hidden upon them."

Beinvír nodded, accepting their statements, though it made her feel little better. Her people would be the penultimate spies, scouts, and ambushers that any host could employ. Were they to march to war, a silent and invisible front could they maintain, slaying unseen and unmarked while'st bringing terror unto their enemies. And yet she also knew that some fraction of her peoples' vaunted stealth depended upon their intimate knowledge of the land. In strange and foreign country they would hold a lessoned advantage. And in a battle of massed forces with set formations, they could easily be o'errun and slaughtered.

"When the time comes, I shalt stand with the alliance," King Amdír declared, "yet I shalt be forced to take a flank, for my folk art not armed and armored for the press of battle, host against a host. We must be able to retreat, regroup, and utilize our mobility. We art bowmen primarily, and from the wings can we do great damage, yet great shalt be our jeopardy should we be constrained when the lines clash."

To his tactical assessment, Helluin agreed. In her opinion, his people should fire from the flanks until the final charge and then draw aside to either fire upon the rear of the enemy host or assail any flanking maneuver Sauron should chance to make. She wondered after the preparedness of King Oropher's folk and resolved to pay that realm a visit after she and Beinvír returned to Greenwood. While'st Oropher commanded far greater numbers that Amdír, Helluin could only hope they were armed for a different kind of combat.

Helluin resolved to do whatever she could to prepare Oropher's people, for bitterly did she remember her bloody leadership of the Avari well 'nigh 3,000 years before. She could never let such a thing happen again.

**To Be Continued**


	62. In An Age Before Chapter 62

**In An Age Before – Part 62

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**Chapter Forty-one**

_**Calenglad i'Dhaer - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now following their short sojourn in Lórinand, Helluin and Beinvír made their way 'cross Anduin and returned to Greenwood the Great. Thither they again paid their respects to Oldbark and indeed were summoned before a gathering of the Onodrim in his halls. 'Twas a long and frankly boring affair, a true 'moot' rather than the circle of Enyd they had encountered long before in Fangorn Forest. Oldbark had called out a deafening chorus of words in the _Lamb Enyd_, the Speech of the Onodrim. O'er the remaining day and night a congregation of no less than three score Enyd arrived, filling the hall of Laiquadol with an array of bristling and branching forms, and forcing the two Elves to scramble partway up the path to the summit lest they be inadvertently trampled.

"Some have managed to arrive, I see. Not nearly all, but enough…yes, enough," Oldbark told them in a stage whisper as their eyes swiftly examined the gathered figures. The Enyd were standing nearly motionless, and packed so close together that the thicket they formed was't wholly impassable. It gave the two ellith the impression of a dense wood filled with large and ancient eyes.

"Whyfore hath thou summoned so many hither?" Beinvír asked, for Oldbark had explained 'naught of his purpose in gathering the moot.

"Why so that you can tell your tale," Oldbark had replied as if the reason were self-evident. "Hooo-hoooom…great matters are coming to pass in such a short time," he declared, carefully hiding his grin at the Green Elf's expression of dismay, "and none know the particulars of them better than you two. I am sure Helluin also called Maeg-mórmenel explorer of the Host of Finwe can at least give us a hasty synopsis of it all in little more than several days."

Beinvír's eyes widened comically at this assertion, and Oldbark turned to Helluin and gave her a wink. Helluin groaned. She hoped her voice didn't give out before her tidings were heard.

The Green Elf had expected a harrowing dose of boredom and she had not been wrong. Her greatest miscalculation was that there would be speech during the day and rest at night. In fact, the Enyd never ceased speaking. 'Twas worse for Helluin, forced to use the burdensome Entish Speech while maintaining her attention for what ended up being 74 hours straight. Beinvír would throw herself down upon the path nightly, for she understood not a word that was't said, indeed perceiving little but a random and endlessly droning dirge.

Upon the third day Helluin finally collapsed as the Enyd discussed her tale 'twixt themselves, slowly swaying to and fro, all of them speaking at once and without a break. For a half-day she lay unmoving as her tidings were debated, resting her mind while Beinvír paced in rising annoyance and gnawed viciously on rations. The Enyd appeared wholly oblivious to them both.

_They speak thus all at once, for I should wager much of what they say is repetition of things already said long ago,_ Beinvír thought uncharitably, _and like as not would we hath been the sooner upon our way had we repeated aught once to each ear in the Elven tongue rather than surrendering to them thus our rede in theirs. _

So great did she find the tedium that she could only liken it to watching grass grow. 'Twas outright mind numbing. She marked a millipede's progress as it slowly crawled up and over an unmoving Helluin's chest.

_By the Valar they hath well 'nigh killed her,_ the Laiquende fumed as she looked upon her catatonic partner, _'tis enough and too much, I say._

As if reading her thought, Oldbark sidled up at that very moment. Looking down at Helluin and shaking his head.

"Well, it's as I'd always thought. It is very difficult to say anything of true importance properly when one is given thus to wanderings of the mind. Where do you think she has taken refuge, young Beinvír friend and companion upon the road of Helluin?"

The Green Elf's bright grey eyes narrowed in aggravation as she spun around to face the Onod.

"Wandering mind?" Beinvír sputtered. "Her concentration flagged not for o'er three days, during which time thy tongue compelled her to near brain death by thy insidious grammars and infernal conjugations. Howfor can'st thou fault her? By the Valar, even the continuation of thy parliament hath encouraged the maintenance of her _refuge_, as though her spirit doth desperately seek for each moment of deliverance from thy debate." Here the Green Elf took a deep, cleansing breath ere she contained her tirade and concluded with forced civility. "I pray thee, Lord Oldbark, grant us thy leave…to leave. I shalt take her far beyond the hearing of thy speech and thus the sooner return her to wakefulness."

"But we may have…questions," the Onod said.

"Bah! Answer them thyselves," she spat, "thou now know'th all that we can tell, I wager."

Oldbark clucked his tongue and sighed. He didn't believe it was in anyone's best interest to reveal that in her three days of speech, Helluin had only managed to establish the backgrounds between the different tribes of Elves from which she and her beloved came, and the time of their setting out, during the rains in 1847. Naught had yet been said about anything that had occurred since and only he knew more, having heard the "hasty" version they'd originally reported to him in Sindarin. He looked at the unmoving Helluin and the spitting mad Beinvír. _Ahhh, the impatience of youth,_ he mused, _still, my people will come to appreciate Helluin's opening remarks_. _They proved…comical._

"Very well," he finally said, "I suppose there's little more that you two can add at present. If anything truly pressing comes of our moot, I shall send a mockingbird to summon you. In the meantime, perhaps you should just go up onto Laiquadol. It is peaceful there and a path runs down from the heights towards the north. It may be best for all involved if you two make your way to the people of King Oropher. He should know this tale of yours as well."

Beinvír practically choked at his words. Had they not been trapped for most of the last four days they would hath been well upon their way to King Oropher's realm already. She shook her head and then nodded, schooling her features and saying, "My thanks, Lord Oldbark. We shalt take then our leave at once." She finished with a stiff curtsy.

"Be well upon the road, young Beinvír friend and companion of Helluin," Oldbark said.

Without pausing a moment lest some question be voiced, the Green Elf snatched up their travel gear, and in an impressive show of strength, hoisted Helluin upon her shoulders and staggered off up the path. Oldbark watched her go before he returned to the moot. They were still debating Helluin's "accent" and at the rate they were progressing, he deemed they would spend two or three seasons speaking of all there was to tell. The Green Elf was't far out of sight ere he allowed himself a chuckle.

Now Beinvír managed to carry Helluin and all their gear to the top of Laiquadol, but there she could go no further. She laid Helluin down upon a patch of bracken and collapsed beside her gasping for air.

'Twas already mid-afternoon ere she recovered, and so she set up their camp and contrived to relax. The hours passed in silence and finally evening drew 'nigh. Beinvír found deadfall and started a fire; Enyd be damned, she wanted tea and hot food. She was't still seething mad inside but managed a calm exterior as darkness fell. Finally with the rising of the moon, Helluin gave a convulsive jerk and sat bolt upright. She stared around at a loss for a few moments and then noticed her friend seated next to her before a campfire. 'Twas so familiar a sight that she found great comfort in the scene and calmed herself.

"Ugh! The most horrible _dream_**¹** hath I endured," she said, and chewed her lip. Beinvír handed her a cup of tea and Helluin gave the Green Elf a warm smile as she accepted it. "I dreamt that we had become the butt of some joke of Oldbark's, yet I understood not the punch line and perceived not his humor," she admitted after a few sips. "'Twas most unsettling."

**¹**(The term **dream** was loosely used in conversation for a vision unsummoned and from a source unknown that appeared during a period of rest. In this case t'would appear that Helluin's conscious mind was't actively churning o'er recent events while'st disconnected from her body. The norm for the Eldar during rest is the lapsing of the consciousness into memory wherefrom no new stimuli come).

At this, Beinvír ground her teeth. She had suspected just such, that absent Galadriel and Celeborn, they had become the subjects of the Onod's perversity. She sat fuming.

After an hour Helluin appeared recuperated and she looked about with her usual perceptiveness, sampling the night. She knew her partner was seething and thought any course better than to remain thither and steep in angst. Therefore she weighed the hour and the way and made a suggestion, deeming action better than reaction.

"I should feel better, I wager, were I to spend this night afoot 'neath the boughs and the stars," she said. "What say thou, _meldanya_?"

"I should be well satisfied to be on our way from this place at any hour," Beinvír spat, "lest _they_ come hither having contrived some questions for thy torment."

With that, the two ellith disassembled their camp, doused the fire, and went upon their way northeast. 'Twas 90 leagues to the Emyn Duir and the realm of King Oropher.

'Twas a fortnight later that Helluin and Beinvír came upon a company of Silvan Elves who had made a campsite 'nigh the _Mén-i-Naugrim_, or Way of the Dwarves, the new east-west road which the Khazad had built to connect the Hithaeglir and the _Ford of Anduin_**¹** to the _River Celduin_**²**. 'Twas yet further evidence of the grandeur of Durin IV's reign. Traders from his mansions now brought goods throughout Rhovanion, even east of Greenwood. In fact some of these wares had eventually made their way secondhand to Gondor far to the south.

**¹**(This ford, located south of the Carrock mentioned in The Hobbit, 'twas later called the **Iách Iaur** in Sindarin, or the Old Ford in the Common Tongue. The **Mén-i-Naugrim** was by then called The Old Forest Road, and upon it Gandalf's party entered Mirkwood.)

**²**(**River Celduin, **this is the Sindarin name for the River Running, as 'twas later known in The Hobbit in 3rd Age Westron.)

"'Tis a moderate camp," Beinvír said softly, "and yet more surround us amidst the boles. I should say not less than 50 total." Helluin nodded, trusting her partner's senses.

"_Suilaid vín_**¹**_,"_ one of the Silvan Elves called out with little enthusiasm while the two ellith were still some distance away. His greeting had the double benefit of alerting all his company while welcoming the strangers. He noted that Helluin was't wearing battle armor and that the newcomers bore swords, knives, and bows.

**¹**(**Suilaid vín, _Our Greetings,_ ****_suilaid _**(greetings) + **_vín_** (1st pers, pl, pro, our) Sindarin)

"_Suilannam cin sui meldin_**¹**_," _Helluin called out in return with a wave of her hand, showing it to be empty of weapons. Beside her Beinvír contrived a reassuring smile and projected it towards the strangers She too waved.

**¹**(**Suilannam cin sui meldin, _We greet you as (female) friends,_**_ **suilanno-**_ (greet) + **_-(a)m_** (3rd pers, pl, pro, we) + **_cin_** (2nd pers, obj, pro, you) + **_sui _**(as) + **_meldis_** (f. friend) + **_-in_**(pl) Sindarin)

Despite all the pleasantries there was't some tension. The _Efyr_**¹ **would probably hath welcomed Beinvír easily enough, for they were kin from opposite sides of the Hithaeglir, but the Light of Aman they discerned so bright upon Helluin marked her as a _calben_**²** and therefore a _golodh_**³**. Rejection of the Noldorin culture of Beleriand 'twas central to the identity of the people of King Oropher.

**¹**(**Efyr, Silvan Elves**, pl. of Afor. Sindarin)

**²**(**Calben, ****Elf of Light**, sing., syn w/ Amanya. Sindarin)

**³**(**Golodh, Exiled Elf**, sing., syn w/ Noldo. Sindarin)

Long before, the folk who had followed Lenwe and parted from their Teleri kin had roamed the forests and shores of Middle Earth in peace 'neath the stars. Their lives were for long as they had ever been since their awakening at Cuivienen. Then Morgoth had returned to the north, bringing with him those treasures of the Noldor, the Silmarils, and war. When the Exiles had come to wrest Feanor's gems from the Enemy of the World, all other peoples had become enmeshed in the conflagration, to their immense suffering.

Because of that conflict, no longer was't there peace, and no longer was't there only the soothing and twinkling light of the stars. No longer was't there the comforting continuity of passing Ages. Now time 'twas broken into days, moon phases, seasons, cycles, and _yen._ With the counting of days had come awareness of the Fading. The sun and moon were garish, obtrusive, and terrible in their majesty, and much like Helluin's people, they had changed Middle Earth forever and destroyed a peaceful way of life. In the camp 'nigh the Mén-i-Naugrim, there was't no soul who felt not at least a twinge of resentment at Helluin's presence.

Now Helluin and Beinvír came to stand before a gathering group of ellyn and ellith who were forming a semi-circle before them. About two dozen were present, though as Beinvír and Helluin knew, yet more lurked in the nearby wood. 'Twas a certainty that at least some of these bent bows towards their unexpected guests.

"Whyfore come'th thou hither, O _Golodh_ dark?" The ellon who had first greeted them asked.

"Indeed we hath come hither to beg audience of King Oropher, for he was't known to us aforetime, and we unto him," Helluin answered.

"If indeed thou art known to our lord and he to thee, then far in the past must be thy acquaintance," the ellon replied, "for none here know'th thee."

Around them many heads nodded in agreement. Helluin and Beinvír searched the arc of faces and saw not a single one that was't familiar from their past visit.

"'Tis indeed as thou say," Helluin admitted, "for it hast been 1,580 years since last we shared company with thy lord and his heir. Yet upon a time with many of his household did we wander in summer season hither 'neath the boughs. Now we art come with grave tidings for his ears, and we art come at the request of Oldbark, Lord of Calenglad i'Dhaer."

To this, the gathered _Tawarwaith_**¹** began a debate in the Silvan tongue, as if by its use they could retain some measure of privacy. Beinvír spoke Silvan as a native tongue and Helluin had learnt it so long ago she probably spoke it more authentically than the far younger Elves surrounding them. Indeed she noted that their speech had absorbed some constructions typical of Sindarin.

**¹**(**Tawarwaith, _Silvan Elves_, **coll. pl. Sindarin)

It became obvious from their converse that the company was't seized by indecision. If these two travelers, strangers unto them, were indeed known to their lord, then they were committing a breach of etiquette by delaying their errand. Worse, they themselves had almost no contact with the Onodrim. They knew well of their presence in the forest and some also knew of their _Huorns_, but none they knew had ever actually spoken with them. What penalties would follow the frustration of an errand from such a lord 'twas beyond their experience.

"I pray thee, wilt thou not take us to King Oropher, or send word hence of our coming?" Beinvír finally asked in Silvan. The Elves turned to her in surprise.

"'Tis Lord Oldbark's wish that thy lord hath such knowledge as shalt shape events to come," Helluin added, also in Silvan, "for war shalt again find thee and thy realm must be prepared."

The Tawarwaith's surprise turned to shock and they fell into silence. Here again was't a Noldo come amongst them bearing tidings of impending war. 'Twas their collective nightmare. The horrified expressions on their faces were almost comical.

'Twas as the assembled group stood indecisive that they heard a trill of birdsong and the beat of hooves approaching. A trio of riders were making their way thither through the woods, but leading them came a mockingbird reciting the call of the _lis ince_, the honey bird of Valinor. Shortly the riders broke into the clearing and reined their mounts to a halt. A spare horse they had led thither as well.

To these three the assembled Tawarwaith bowed. Helluin noted that the riders wore broaches shaped like a cluster of green oak leaves, the symbol of Oropher's house. By then the mockingbird had taken up a perch on Beinvír's shoulder and carefully relieved itself, leaning far out to spare her cloak. It called one last time, drawing the riders' attention and then commenced to preening its feathers.

"So hither lies the ending of our chase 't'would seem," one rider said, eyeing the mockingbird and then letting his gaze linger on Beinvír.

"I see thou hath heeded the summons of the Herald of the Lord of the Onodrim," Helluin said, ignoring the first rider's smitten stare.

"Indeed such was't the command of our lord," a second rider said, "to follow hence the call of yonder bird wheresoever it should lead."

"So thou art come from the court of King Oropher?" Beinvír asked hopefully.

"Aye, that we art," the rider said, "and to him came this _herald_ upon yestermorn. We hath ridden thence through yesterday afternoon and today in pursuit. I confess we thought it but a wild bird chase, and yet to a destination in fact hast it led."

The riders quickly dismounted and questioned those of the company who stood 'nigh and so came to understand the situation they had come upon.

"T'would seem our errand 'tis to thee, and that thine 'tis to our lord," the lead rider said. "therefore I bid thee ride with us to our lord's halls."

**To Be Continued**


	63. In An Age Before Chapter 63

**In An Age Before – Part 63

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**

Upon the following day, Helluin and Beinvír were led to a grotto in the Emyn Duir where a stream flowed down from the higher ground. 'Twas a pleasant setting of wide flat rocks with a pool and a large oak of great breadth, whose o'erhanging branches were lit with many pendant lamps. 'Neath this tree were set chairs of wood, and upon the centermost sat King Oropher with his back against the trunk. Upon his right hand sat Prince Thranduil, and about them in a semi-circle were seated a dozen advisors. A throng of Elves occupied the grotto where their king held court, and these ceased their speech and music making to watch Helluin and Beinvír's approach. The two ellith came to stand a fathom and a half before the king's seat and bowed low in greeting.

As was't the custom, Oropher stood and returned their bow, and remaining thus, he spoke.

"My friends of old, 'tis indeed a joy to see thee again and well. Word hath come to me from Lord Oldbark, telling of thy errand. Now despite whatsoever dire tidings thou may bear, still my welcome is extended to thee."

"My lord, great thanks do we give for thy greeting and thy welcome," Helluin said. "Thy riders found us at a time most opportune to the continuation of our errand. Indeed 'tis grave tidings we doth bear, and yet the more do we offer thee our thanks for thy welcome in despite of them."

"Rather would I hear aught of ill-tidings, Helluin, than be taken later at unawares for harkening not," Oropher said, shaking his head in resignation. _If only such a messenger had come to warn my folk and my king in Doriath long ago, _he thought, _but what oracle greater than Melian could one desire? _He sighed. "Oft times art ill deeds unavoidable, yet ever would I choose for my people to survive them. Speak then thy tidings, old friend, and fear not my wrath at the messenger."

Here Helluin bowed her head again to honor the Silvan king. More just was't his treatment of her it seemed, than her treatment by her own king had been, and this in spite of his feelings towards her people. She renewed her determination to do all that she could to prepare King Oropher's folk to survive the coming war.

Now the king seated himself and he called for chairs and refreshments for his guests. Then through the hours of the afternoon and well into the night he harkened to all Helluin and Beinvír told him. Great was't his amazement at the fall of Númenor, and appalled was't he at their king's folly in assailing the West. Yet more amazed were all who harkened to Helluin's assertion that the One had reshaped the world and that Valinor now lay hidden.Withgreat interest did the king mark the new realms that had been founded by the exiled Dúnedain upon the Hither Shores. But most of all, the proofs the two visitors gave for the survival and renewed strength of Sauron did he absorb with dread.

"And so time wears on to some great conflict, O King," Helluin said late that night, "for ever hath it been the part of the Abhorred to fester in malice against our folk and all those who would be free. He hath survived the Downfall of Númenor, reclaimed his realm of Mordor, and taken up again his Ring. He hast called to him again his servants and his soldiers, and smoke rises from the Mount of Fire. Soon shalt he come again with war, and first shalt he test the resolve of the Men of Gondor that lie'th upon his border, yet he shalt not stop there. Until his defeat shalt he seek, as he hath aforetime, to extend his sovereignty to all lands and to enthrall all peoples 'neath his will. Whether thou ally thy folk with Ereinion or stand alone, thou shalt face thy Great Enemy yet again. Therefore I pray thee, for this time put aside thy resentment of the Noldor; lay aside even thy distrust of the folk of Durin. Stronger shalt all be for their alliance together than shalt any be standing alone. Gift thy people this opportunity to share with others the coming jeopardy and doom."

When Helluin was't finished she sat and took up a cup of wine, while the king and his advisors debated to and fro the pros and cons of her rede. 'Twas no small thing she had requested of him. King Oropher's realm in Greenwood had been founded on a rejection of the Noldor in Beleriand, for at their feet 'twas all the ill of the First Age laid. Indeed for some, all the ills since the coming of the sun and moon could be traced to Helluin's people. For Oropher to accept an alliance with the remnant of that host, and to accept the command of their much younger High King would be, to many, a severe insult. For the greater count of his people, serving under such conditions would be unacceptable. The debate continued in a surprisingly civil atmosphere through the night. Two hours ere dawn, Prince Thranduil rose at a nod from his father and approached their guests.

"My friends, t'would seem our debate proceeds without visible conclusion. Therefore join me now, I pray thee,for the evening meal," he said with a wry grin.

Helluin smiled and nodded in acceptance of his offer, while Beinvír sighed with relief as her stomach growled in anticipation. The prince stifled a snicker.

"Well what a relief that upon at least some topic a consensus is still possible in these trying days," the prince said as he led them forth from the grotto.

They followed a narrow canyon beside a trickling stream for a short ways ere they came to a semi-enclosed canyon whose mouth opened out into the forest 'twixt two encircling arms of high ground. Thither were set many benches and tables 'neath many lamps, and along one wall 'twas a kitchen with a great hearth where spitted meats roasted and cauldrons simmered. Prince Thranduil led them to a table near the opening of the canyon, where the night breezes from the forest flowed pleasantly about them. Out amongst the trees a company of Tawarwaith had built a fire and sat about it at their revels, singing many songs whose tunes and words carried to the trio's ears. Helluin sighed as she discerned the words. They were eerily familiar.

_**O Gently from the clouds of spring,**_

_The warm rains fall and find me._

_Bearing life of which I sing._

_To flower, root, and tall tree._

_I see, I see all things that grow,_

_And long keep watch for more_

_**O Softly 'neath the summer moon,**_

_The night's breeze serenades me._

_Bearing songs of thrush and loon,_

_Their notes upon the wind free._

_I hear, I hear, all that is sung,_

_And listen long for more._

_**O Welcome ripens the autumn fruit,**_

'_Tis bounty there to feed me._

_Seed and nut grown from the root, _

_Blessings all 'round do I see._

_I taste, I taste all offered here,_

_And thank the One yet more._

_**O Deeply sinks the winter's chill,**_

_Frost's fingers seek to find me._

_With plant and beast I'll rest until,_

_Yavanna's breath awakes thee. _

_I wait, I wait the greening time,_

_And look ahead to more._

_**The wheel it turns year after year,**_

'_Neath Anor time is passing._

_And I keep watch to see it clear,_

_The cycle of rebirthing._

_I sing, I sing in praise each day,_

_And wonder all the more._

"Wherefore come'th that song, O Prince," Helluin asked when the singers fell silent.

"'Tis an ancient song indeed; so ancient that none now recall from whence it first came," Prince Thranduil told them. "The tune itself we deem more ancient even than the words, for they speak of the sun and moon, yet the notes art in a mode known akin to some from the earliest of times in Cuivienen. 'Tis a strange and fitting blend and a favorite of our people."

Helluin nodded. _Little hath the words changed in all the centuries,_ she thought. Yet there was't a strain of mystery in hearing that song now. Somewhere just shy of 3,200 years before she had composed those words herself for her introduction to the Avari of King Telpeapáro. She recalled appearing amongst them after four nights of spying upon their revels, and offering those very words while singing to accompany their harper. Of course the Avari had fled. She had then enchanted them with a song of power, drawing them to her and thereby winning their ear and eventually their trust. And she had led them to a disastrous victory o'er the invading Yrch. When last she had sought them, they had been long fled from Calenglad i'Dhaer. So how had the Nandor learnt the words?

Food was't brought to them and pale ale, both very good and very welcome. For long none spoke, but labored to sate their hunger and thirst. Finally though, with so much upon their thought, the three returned to their conversation.

"Think thou that thy father favors the idea of alliance despite its inherent collaboration with the Noldor?" Helluin asked.

"I think that he understands well the tactical advantage," the prince said, "I suspect that even would he swallow his pride and ally himself with thy king. But those who support his rule art strongly against it, of that I am certain. Many want nothing at all to do with a war and even less with a league of friendship 'twixt Lindon and Greenwood. I blame them not. In all honesty, would Ereinion soonof Fingon for a moment consider an alliance were the Nandor to lead it"

"Nay," Helluin said, "I know he would not."

"And yet our lands art closer to Mordor and more easily subject to his predations."

"Aye. Thou speak the truth, O Prince. Clearly I see it. And I can foresee the Host of Mordor marching due north from Udûn to assail thee hither. There is 'naught save farmland to be o'errun ere they reach the southern borders of Calenglad."

"He shalt assail first the Dúnedain of Gondor," Beinvír reminded them, "for his pride shalt not suffer Isildur's insolence in building upon the Ephel Duath, his citadel of Minas Ithil. Neither shalt he ignore an enemy at his back…no commander would."

"'Tis not unthinkable for him to strike upon two fronts of war," Prince Thranduil said, "smiting those 'nigh his lands and yet making alsoa play against us, hither to the north. Were he to succeed he would'st hold well 'nigh all Rhovanion, for Lórinand shalt not long stand alone."

"In this thou can'st see the wisdom of a united front to oppose him," Helluin replied, "ere all art gobbled up alone. And thou hath not into thy calculations taken thought for the Naugrim of Khazad-dum. They shalt certainly stand against Sauron, 60,000 strong. We hath spoken of late with Durin IV, Lord of Hadhodrond, and know his council."

"60,000..." Thranduil asked in amazement, "…this is the count of their army, not their mansions?"

The Nandor knew little of the Naugrim. Indeed they felt towards them as had once King Lenwin in Lindórinand long aforetime; they existed in a mutual disregard bordering on disdain.

"Indeed. 60,000 'tis the count of their warriors, not counting the King's Guards, the Guard Companies of the Gates, and the Black Companies, their home guard. 60,000 is the count of their standing regular army, and this they would commit as an expeditionary force against Mordor…along with their cadres of armorors, sappers, artificers, cooks, healers, scribes, and all the other personnel needed to support the fighters."

Again they lapsed into the silence of thought.

"Art thy folk prepared for war, O Prince? Art they armed and trained for battle?" Helluin asked. She was't greatly worried about this point, for it had been the weakness of arms that had doomed so many of the Avari aforetime when they had faced the Yrch.

Prince Thranduil shook himself and returned from his thoughts.

"Nay, Helluin. My people art wanderers and hunters. Save the king's errand riders and guards we hath no standing companies or constant chain of command. Our society is fluid, its people never in the same place for many seasons, and no warriorguild exists in our society. Rather 'tis to escape war that we yearn. Save a few Royal Guards, none hither regularly bear arms, and even those offices art mostly ceremonial."

Helluin couldn't suppress a groan. 'Twas every bit as bad as she had feared. Like the Avari aforetime, the Nandor of Greenwood had no practical knowledge of what loomed before them. They had no weapons, no command structure, no martial values, and no experience. She wondered if there were even a hundred swords in the entire realm.

"Doth thou know the count of thy people fit to bear arms?"

"Nay. We count them not," Thranduil said, "and whyfore should we? They pay no tribute, seek no services, and cast no votes. We art not a city of Men. The people acknowledge my father's rule for to honor his nobility and show support for his mediation of internal disputes. He is an organizer who arranges to control the spiders, negotiates trade beyond the borders, and performs social ceremonies." He shrugged. A king's duty 'twas to give his people a focus for their group identity and to preserve the peace.

Helluin sighed. The Nandor seemed numerous, but that generality 'twas far from sufficient. She turned to look Beinvír in the eyes.

'_Tis worse than Lebennin, meldanya, _she said silently, _none here know aught of military science. I pray the time sufficient to teach them, elsethey shalt surely die._

_They shalt die and many others besides, _Beinvír said,_ for such is ever thewage of war. None can build and train an army o'ernight. Warriors sprout not from the bare ground like mushrooms._

_Indeed. Rather they must be forged with heated and sustained effort, muchas a smith shapes iron into a sword. If Oropher can prevail to win the ore of his people, still much shalt be needed to temper them and give them an edge._

To this, Beinvír nodded in agreement. Her people, while not comprising a formal army, were capable of mustering their strength and committing their resources to defense. They had military leaders and methods of communication. After the battle of Amon Ereb so long ago, they had refused to seek open battle, but they had turned all their land into a killing ground where their stealth and pinpoint archery kept enemies at bay. They had hated war but had never turned their backs on the skills to wage it after their own fashion.

"O Prince, I shalt make thee an offer and a promise," Helluin said at last, "that should thy father win his people's decision to go to war, then I shalt make available all my expertise. None upon Arda know better the practice of combat, and none art more…available. I expect no summons from my king. Until the war comes, I offer my service as consultant, trainer, and tactician."

Thranduil looked at Helluin in surprise. He had thought her only a messenger bearing unwelcome tidings. Her offer he regarded with mixed emotions. Should they deign to accept it, would his people not be placing themselves 'neath the command of the very thing they detested most; a war-mongering Noldo? And yet he knew her history and accepted her claims of prowess. None wandered so long or so faras she, nor bore such arms as she carried without practical expertise. Survival demanded it.

"I shalt convey thy words to the king," 'twas all he could say.

Sitting next to Helluin, Beinvír heard more in her words than did Thranduil, for none upon Arda knew her lover better. _I expect no summons from my king. Until the war comes, I offer my service as consultant, trainer, and tactician._ It went without saying that Gil-galad would never summon Helluin in time of war. But just what was't she thinking of doing once the war began? The Green Elf chewed her lower lip.

In 1700 Helluin had sought single combat with Sauron and she still chaffed at his flight. She had challenged him yet again upon Amon Hen. Would she seek to waylay or contest with him in the future? Almost certainly, Beinvír answered herself. She shalt somehow contrive a way to meet Sauron Gorthaur in battle, and there her darkness shalt be inflamed by her obsession with slaying him. And with the Sarchram she may succeed. But what then? In her darkness, would she avail herself of the spoils of her victory? Would she dare to don Sauron's Ring? Would she think to master it to her will as she had mastered her own weapon while'st under assault in 1600? And in the attempt, could she succeed? Was't such possible? Or would she fall down into Darkness like Tindomul, becoming a Dark Lady where aforetime there had been a Dark Lord? Beinvír felt the throbbing of her pulse in her temples, the harbinger of a headache. _Ugh,_ she thought, _sometimes being the lover of the most fell of Elven warriors is hard work._

With all the decisiveness and celerity of the Ent Moot, the council of Oropher continued deliberating the following day and then the next. Finally near nightfall of the third day, a decision was't reached and the two ellith were informed of the outcome by the prince.

"With the agreement of the council 'tis my father's decision that those people of the realm capable of bearing arms shalt prepare to wage war against the minions of Sauron Gorthaur. We shalt raise an army to march 'neath King Oropher's command, and we shalt consider ourselves allies and equals in arms with Ereinion Gil-galad and his forces. We shalt not be under the command of Lindon, but shalt aid in their campaigns."

"I see," Helluin said non-committally. "Hast a decision been reached regarding my offer of assistance?"

At this, Prince Thranduil sighed.

"Thou art to be a personal consultant only to the king, Helluin. Never shalt thou issue a command to a Nando. Upon this the council stood adamant and would budge not. Thou may make _suggestions_ to the king and he shalt implement them or not as he sees fit."

"I see," was all Helluin said. 'Twas more or less the outcome she'd expected.

"But," Thranduil continued after a short pause, "our house hath several ancient swords that came with my father out of Doriath. T'would greatly please me if thy schedule would allow thee to gift me somewhat of thy instruction."

Though he made very nearly the same request that Tindomul had voiced so long before, his sentiments were totally different. In the Prince of Greenwood, Helluin sensed only the sincere and nervous desire to learn well a distasteful skill. Helluin laughed, feeling more lighthearted now.

"Of course, O Prince. I should be glad to offer thee instruction. Such may even save thy life upon the field."

"Indeed it might," Thranduil said with not a trace of humor, for he was dead serious. The prospect of his father and his people going to war chilled his very blood. "Indeed it might."

After the decision to arm was't reached in King Oropher's realm, the years passed in an increasing state of readiness. Yet as each cycle of the seasons came and went without battle, the drive to preparedness warred with the false sense of security the continuing peace engendered. Helluin discerned that many of the Nandor had never taken the prospect of war seriously, while'st others followed their king's decrees simply to honor the wishes of their lord. Yet there were some, mostly older, who had harkened to the tidings of the previous war in Eriador, and a very few who, like Oropher himself, had come from the ruin of Doriath and had known war in Beleriand. Ever did these urge steadfastness upon any who harkened to them, and so about a core of serious and devoted warriors in training clustered a greater number only lackadaisical in their determination to prepare.

One virtue they had, and that was numbers. Helluin surveyed the troops regularly and counted well 'nigh 30,000 engaged in training, mostly at archery and pikes. A small cavalry drilled with lances from horseback, but favored still their bows from the saddle. These, Helluin knew, could be deadly, but they were so few, scarcely three hundreds all told. And fewer still trained with swords. Indeed in the whole kingdom there were not even three hundreds who owned a blade longer than their forearm. These were mostly scions of old Sindarin families who had come thither with Oropher and had retained their weapons from the First Age. On these Helluin concentrated her practical training, never instructing directly, but rather using Thranduil as an intermediary and making the prince their teacher, while'st she in turn trained him and watched the students' progress from the sidelines.

Helluin found King Oropher's son a good student, and if not a brilliant swordsman, then certainly one willing to put forth endless determination and effort. Thranduil absorbed all she showed him and practiced until his hands were blistered ere they finally calloused o'er like those of an old campaigner. In turn, he drilled the Nandor mercilessly, and if his passion was't resented none complained, good subjects that they were.

At least once a week Helluin and Beinvír would spar in view of the students for the sake of inspiring them. It had been now almost 2,070 years since the Green Elf had first taken up the short sword under Helluin's tutelage, and 415 years since she had traded it for the fighting knives gifted her by Gotli of Khazad-dum. Though she favored greatly her bow as a primary weapon, she was't highly proficient with her paired fighting knives. These were light, quick, close-in weapons, meant to cover threats too near for archery, for though Beinvír could stab with a handheld arrow, in most cases a sturdy blade was't far more deadly. One could not slash effectively with an arrow point, nor block an enemy's thrust with sword or spear.

In Beinvír's hands the _Sigilin Belthol_**¹** flickered in a blindingly swift and graceful succession of motions designed to weave a fluid defense, warding off attacks while'st confusing the enemy's eye. Indeed with her speed, the polished blades seemed to vanish into thin air, becoming well 'nigh impossible to focus upon. A moment's indecision 'twas all the opening the Green Elf needed to lunge in for a killing thrust or whisk a fatal slice. She was't equally proficient with either hand, and equalizing their potential had been Gotli's intent in providing her with these gifts. And more than Helluin's intimidating and o'erpowering rage, Beinvír's lithe grace and fleeting accuracy made her swordplay appear as a visually intriguing and deadly art. Her style could not hath been more different from that of her teacher.

**¹**(**Sigilin Belthol, _Killing Knives _****_sigil _**(knife) + **_-in_**(pl) + **_beltho- _**(v, kill) + **_-l_**(act pres part suff, _-ing_) Sindarin)

Now when they sparred to provide instruction to the students, Beinvír held back not at all, for even were she to actually touch Helluin with her blades, Helluin's armor would turn the cut. But Helluin indeed held back, not only because Beinvír wore no armor, (and indeed Anguirél could cleave any she might hath worn), but also because she knew that she could easily o'erpower the Green Elf were she to unleash her deadly fury. And yet something else stayed her more surely than any tangible concerns, and that was the love in her heart. Not even in the venue of a sparring match would she will to chance injury to her beloved. For that same reason, never did she wield the Sarchram in her left hand, but rather favored for parrying, her dagger.

Amongst the Nandor were none so well learnt at swordplay as to discern that the two ellith were not wholly intent upon laying low their opponent. To their eyes the action seemed completely in earnest and deadly. 'Twas a vision of what was't possible; what centuries of practice could confer; a glimpse at mastery to aspire to but perhaps never attain. When they returned to their practice, 'twas with renewed determination and effort.

For well 'nigh a score of years the mustering of Greenwood commenced, and little of it was't known beyond the borders. Only once 'twas Helluin summoned to Laiquadol by Lord Oldbark, and upon that occasion he spoke to her of many things past and future.

"You are again involving yourself in the training of a peaceful kingdom for war," he said, "and I have not forgotten your sadness over the outcome of your arming of the Avari."

Helluin had bowed her head. She had certainly not forgotten either. Indeed the memories haunted her at times.

"I hath no choice save to do thus," she said, "for even should I again fail, still 'tis better to try than to let march unprepared to battle these latter day settlers of thy realm. Like the Avari aforetime, the Nandor favor peace and know not war. Compelled now to make amends for past acts doth I judge myself, and so I hope to tip somewhat the balance to their favor. I can do 'naught save as I am. Yet indeed I feel myself caught and forced to choose 'twixt the lesser of two evils."

"Many choices are little more than that, young Elfling, and we who survive the Ages do so by accepting the weather, fair and foul alike. Though the doings of the Elves are not really my concern, yet all things being equal, I would probably follow the same course you have taken. I would confer upon those I care for such chance as I might gift to them."

Helluin looked up into the ancient eyes of the Lord of the Onodrim and saw 'naught but sympathetic concern. For all his perverse humor and alien manners she felt that he did care about her in his own way. Perhaps 'twas a shared understanding of the ever growing weight of memories and experiences that bore upon her, for such must weigh upon him too. Perhaps 'twas simply his native nature as the guardian and custodian of a realm and his empathy as the caretaker of the souls who dwelt within it. She didn't know. Still she was't thankful for his concern and felt less alone in her labors.

"My Lord Oldbark, since our first meeting so long ago, ever hath thou shown me kindness and honor, and if at times thou hast indulged thy humor, truly no harm hast it done. I greatly appreciate thy friendship. I can only retain hope for the future and faith in the Song, that events shalt come through heartbreak unto joy."

"Indeed so, Helluin of the Noldor explorer of the Host of Finwe. I too have faith in the eventual triumph over the evils of Morgoth and his servants, but it will be long in coming and hard fought to win. The Song unfolds, but ever with conflict. Still, so long as you and others like you cling to your faith, I feel that it shall come to pass. I certainly hope to be around to see some of it."

"If any shalt endure to see it, 'twill be thou," Helluin said with certainty.

"I am less certain my young friend, for I feel many changes coming," the Onod said. His mood seemed more contemplative and more somber than ever Helluin had seen it. "The world is changing; I know not how long such as myself will persist. Yavanna's grace was given by the One to last only so long as the Firstborn were strong, but now Men are in their ascendance. Like the Eldar, the Onodrim shall find their welcome in the world diminishing, and so like your kin, we too shall fade, becoming finally only trees much like those we were at the start."

Somehow the Onod's words kindled a deep sadness in Helluin. Yes, the world was't diminished. She had long marked the lessening of nobility and the fading of the stars. For long years fewer and fewer of the Firstborn had chosen to remain in Middle Earth. So many had sailed to the West, and now the West itself was't removed. Wonder was't fleeing Middle Earth; magick, enchantment, and that sense of a miracle to be discovered each day were seeping out of the Hither Lands. Even Helluin, much as she loved the Mortal Shores, no longer felt the awe she had known in her youth on the Westward March. Indeed she no longer felt so strongly the compulsion to explore, only to wander. She blinked. The distinction had crept unnoticed upon her, slowly, slowly, o'er many centuries. The contentment she had once felt alone in the wilderness had been replaced with the joy of traveling with her beloved and seeking what new adventures they found together.

"Perhaps thou art correct," she said. Oldbark was watching her carefully now. "Indeed I hath received a prophecy of doom from the West, that I shalt outlive my welcome hither and persist long alone upon these Mortal Shores. It seems I am fated to finish as I started, alone, but in a world bereft of its wonder and diminished, and I faded within it. Indeed I suspect that never shalt I leave it, though the prophecy says otherwise."

"Hmmmmm, it sounds to me as though you doubt the doom of the Lords of the West, Helluin. If they spoke to you and declared the course of your future, then it shall come to pass. Do not doubt them, my young friend. Keep your hope if nothing else, even though it may long seem in vain. The One cares for his children and the Valar watch over them."

To this Helluin could 'naught but bow her head in acceptance. That was the key; acceptance. She could not escape her fate any more than any other upon Arda.

"You should return to the people of King Oropher, young Helluin of the Noldor," Oldbark said at last, "and continue their training. No matter what happens tomorrow we can only do the best we can today. Go now, my friend. I cannot believe that your labors will be wholly in vain."

So with a bow to the Lord of Calenglad i'Dhaer, Helluin turned and made her way back to Oropher's halls. And there the years crept on towards the War of the Last Alliance.

**To Be Continued**

11


	64. In An Age Before Chapter 64

**In An Age Before – Part 64

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-two**

_**The Forming of the Last Alliance – The Second Age of the Sun**_

_**Author's note:** I feel this chapter goes out on a limb to address plot bunnies in the canon that JRRT created. I've tried to work around them while retaining the sequence of events in the forming of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and for setting the stage for events in the later War of the Ring. If the _palantíri _allowed communication between the north and south kingdoms of the Dúnedain in exile, whyfore did Isildur need sail to Lindon to bring tidings of Sauron's attack and the fall of Minas Ithil unto Elendil and Gil-galad? Surely he could hath done thus with the stone in Osgiliath and then remained to aid his brother in the defense of their realm. Nevertheless, JRRT states that Isildur and his family sailed from Osgiliath to Lindon following the fall of his city. He also states that the _palantír _of Minas Ithil did not fall into Sauron's hands at that time, but no other solution would have made the brothers so distrust the _palantír_ of Osgiliath that Isildur would feel required to make so long a trip by ship. _

The day when peace died had begun like any other, for oft times no warning comes in the weather of the doom a day's sunset shalt witness, yet afterwards the world is never to be the same. It had taken the Dark Lord many decades to coalesce the remnants of his spirit, from the pure etheric state in which he had escaped the inundation of Númenor to the physical manifestation of a vapor. Yet once a sufficient portion of the dark energy of his being had transmuted itself again into the stuff of Arda, the Master of Lies fabricated for himself new forms.

Ever of old had he been a shape-shifter and this he was't still, and thus by his conjuring he appeared, sometimes in form akin to the Children of Iluvatar, save that he was't taller and black as with gangrene, mantled in a stench that alone cowed all, and having bloody red eyes rimmed in yellow that none could look upon and not quake in horror. When such a form served him he wore it, while'st at other times he resolved his being as a great eye of yellow lightning and fire that were drawn inwards in a gyre to a slitted pupil, black as a pit of hell, which swallowed light, and life, and souls.

Now once his form was't achieved he called to him his wraiths and his servants, and he mustered again his armies, for his hatred of the Dúnedain had grown even greater than aforetime, and his hatred of the Eldar had never diminished. Then Gorgoroth 'twas filled again with a Black Host of Yrch called from their warrens or bred anew for war, and with Men from Harad and Khand and Rhûn who had worshipped him in the years ere he went across the sea. There too were Tor and _Wargs_**¹** and other allies fell. These he marshaled, and the tramping of their feet upon the ashen plain raised a cloud of dust that o'ertopped the Ephel Duath and uneased the counsels of the Men of Gondor. And when all was't ready, he donned again his One Ring of power and Orodruin burst into flame.

**¹**(**Wargs, _wolves of Sauron,_** these appear to have been wolves bred by the Dark Lord to greater size and ferocity, sometimes acting in packs on their own, and at other times ridden as mounts by Yrch. They were distinct from the white wolves of northern Eriador and the earlier werewolves of Morgoth. Westron)

Now in the spring, when blossoms of apple, cherry, peach, and orange were still laden upon the boughs in the orchards of Anduin, yet the greater part of the spring rains had abated, a host came o'er a pass in the Ephel Duath and assailed Minas Ithil by night. Almost were they held at bay, but they were reinforced by a second and greater host that had come from the Nargil Pass to the south. Then Isildur was't forced to flight, and gathering his wife and his three sons, and a seedling of Nimloth, he fled to Osgiliath. He left behind some treasures which he had no time to remove, and some few soldiers for whom he long grieved, and when the Tower of the Moon was't taken, then Sauron himself came forth to claim what plunder he could.

In the ruins of the palace the Dark Lord found aught to make his cold heart rejoice, for there in the courtyard before the keep stood Nimloth, the White Tree, saved by Isildur from the Whelming of Númenor. In a guarded chamber he found the partially eaten body of the king's custodian, and upon its pedestal 'nigh the corpse, the _palantír_ of Minas Ithil, which had been left behind by the king in the haste of his flight into exile. With a mailed fist Sauron lifted this prize. Great did he deem his profit would be from that find in the days to come. _Ahhh,_ Sauron thought, _long hast it been since so sweet a victory hath I tasted as on this day_. In glee he turned thence to the courtyard before the citadel and burned the White Tree of Gondor and sacrificed alive all such of the king's people as had fallen prisoner. And as he had aforetime in his temple at Armenelos, he chanted a prayer to his master as the smoke rose to the heavens. 'Twas 17 Gwirith, (April 17th), 3429.

Now coming in duress to Osgiliath, Isildur met briefly with his brother Anárion, and he shared the tidings of the taking of his city. Anárion beseeched him to proffer those same tidings to their father in the north, for the force that had assailed Minas Ithil was't great. But Isildur would chance this not, for by using the _palantír_ 'neath the Dome of Stars, any who gazed thither might be entrapped by the will of Sauron who had taken as spoil the _palantír_ of the Tower of the Moon. Neither for themselves nor for their father would they chance this; instead Isildur would be forced to sail to Lindon with all haste. There he would report not only the fall of his city, but also the danger of the Seeing Stones.

So then, after committing to Anárion the defense of Gondor, Isildur took ship with his family to bear hence his tidings and beg aid from his father in the north. With sails billowed full the king sailed down Anduin to the sea, and making his course westward from Ethir Anduin, at first followed the coast. Upon the third morn he ordered his ship anchored for a day, and in a longboat he went ashore.

Thither at the first landing of his ships in their flight from Númenor he had left the remains of one stricken vessel, and as a marker upon a highland well above the floodtide he had set a great round stone. Now this stone came later to be called the Stone of Erech and thither now went Isildur and his party. There he let blow a fanfare upon a silver trumpet, summoning hence the Men of the Mountains.

These Men had sworn to stay their aggression against the Men of Lebennin and Gondor in 3320, for they quickly recognized these mariners as kin to those long known aforetime and sought not to cross their might save at some great need. Now to Erech did Isildur summon them and to Erech came their king.

"War hath come," Isildur said, "and now either to fall or to live is thy choice, for in this war I would hath thy alliance against the Lord of the Black Land. Fight for our cause and thou shalt hath ever after, peace and honor from Gondor."

"I and my people shalt join thy fight, O King of the Land of Stone," the King of the Mountains swore, "for of Sauron only shalt we hath terror and death. We shalt fight for thy cause." And he slit open his right hand and let flow his blood to consecrate his oath upon the Stone.

Then Isildur clasped forearms with the King of the Mountains and departed back to his ship, having secured the oath of another ally that he and his brother could not afford to fight as an enemy at their back. Isildur set sail on the morn's tide and made again his course northwards toward the Firth of Lune.

By the end of the first week of Lothron, Isildur's ship had come to Mithlond and tidings of the attack were known to the Eldar of Lindon. Swift messengers carried the younger king to Annúminas where Elendil held court. Thence Isildur begged his father's favor, to send aid to Anárion who defended the southern realm in his absence, and he warned him of the peril of the _palantíri_. Being a Man of valor and ever forward in his causes, Isildur had planned to return thence south with whatever strength of Arnor could be spared in haste, leaving his sons and wife in the safety of Lindon. Upon the three princes of his house, Elendur, Aratan, and Ciryon, he had laid the duty to guide thither at the earliest possible time, such forces as could be mustered to battle against Sauron, leading them thither through Calenardhon or perhaps by ship.

It took significant energy and persuasiveness on the part of Gil-galad to dissuade Isildur from this course. For one, Ereinion reasoned, Minas Ithil had fallen primarily due to the surprise attack and the co-coordinated reinforcement from Harad, a plan of which no warning had come. But now the field had stabilized. A wide land lay 'twixt Minas Ithil and Osgiliath whereupon any advancing army would be long espied aforetime. Anárion would face no such sneak attack and his forces were now fully mustered with reinforcements coming to Minas Anor from the lands of Lebennin to the south. And the army of Gondor was very great; scarce less than 50,000 all told in those days, divided into two divisions east and west of Anduin; they would hold at bay the enemy for some time.

A second reason gave Gil-galad to the co-regent of the south kingdom. Long had the Elven folk dwelt with the threat of war before them, and indeed many had fled the Hither Shores in the years while'st Sauron's influence waxed in Mordor. Now their ancient enemy had returned and war was't indeed upon them, but they had as allies the Dúnedain of Arnor and Gondor, and with some others who might be convinced to join them for the common good, they stood a chance of doing what they had not in S.A. 1,700, 2,100 years before; were they to withhold their retaliation until their strength was't full wrought, they could destroy Sauron utterly, not merely defeat him!

And last, did his Elvish eyes mislead him, or was't Isildur's queen not with child? At this unexpected assertion the elder son of Elendil gaped at the Elven King in astonishment and stuttered. He knew 'naught of such nor had either he or his wife yet suspected it. The High King assured Isildur that 'twas indeed true, even if that new life was't yet only in its first moon, and ever it had been the way of both their peoples to deprive not a child of its parents in those most tender first years. Thus Isildur would be best served in accompanying the host when it marched on the Black Land with such strength as would uplift his heart and lay low his enemy. After some 36 centuries of diplomacy Gil-galad was't indeed quite convincing; Isildur and his sons stayed in the north.

Now though in later times much is recalled concerning the great strength of Gondor, in those waning years of the Second Age, 'twas in Arnor that the great strength of Men lay. In those days Elendil was't High King of all those Númenóreans who called themselves Faithful. He was't older and wiser than his sons in the south, and he was't the last true lord from the Land of Kings across the sea. As Lord of Andunië in Exile, he commanded the allegiance of all those who had come to the Hither Shores fleeing the kings' persecution. Generations had sailed east from Romenna and their descendants all acknowledged Elendil as their lord. So too did the Men of Eriador save some only to the far north and east, and even with these the king had succeeded in parlaying, thereby allaying their hostility.

When first Isildur was't received in Annúminas and there told his tidings, Elendil was't wroth. Straightaway he sought the _palantír_ in the Tower of the West and fearlessly commanded its vision south. First he surveyed Minas Anor and the custodian quailed at his rage and reported all that he had seen. Thence to Osgiliath did his sight travel and there he gave comfort to his younger son and promise of aid. Thence to Minas Ithil did Elendil cast his sight. There he was't greeted by the sneering countenance of Sauron Gorthaur, become hideous after his survival of the Downfall of Westernesse. Sauron mocked the king, promising to take piece by piece his realm in the Hither Lands, just as he had taken down the Realm of the Kings across the sea.

Elendil cursed Sauron that day from afar and promised him both war and death. Sauron laughed at the king and showed him the ashes of the White Tree, but in his heart he felt the twinge of fear, for Elendil looked unwavering into his eyes and the Dark Lord could cow him not with his menace. Light shone in the Man's eyes, a living gift of his ancestors still preserved, and the High King showed Sauron a sword forged by his ancient enemies in Beleriand; Narsil, wrought by Telchar of Nogrod in an Age before. The blade had a light all its own and Sauron read his bane upon its chiseled runes.

Within three days the army of Arnor began mustering at Fornost Erain, the knights, squires, heralds, and infantry, the healers, cooks, scribes, engineers, and armorors. All massed in the fortress of the north until 'twas o'erflowing with warriors and horses. Not even in the War of the Elves and Sauron had so great a host amassed to march upon an enemy. Even the Laiquendi, watching as ever in stealth, could scarce believe what they saw. And into the fortress came wain and wagon uncounted, filled with supplies and material, for the army would march far and the campaign would be long.

In the following year, S.A. 3430, the leaders of Elves and Men in the north came together in Lindon for a formal council of war. There was't Ereinion Gil-galad, Glorfindel, and Gildor Inglorion of Lindon, Cirdan and Galdor from Mithlond, Elendil, Isildur, and the princes Elendur, Aratan, and Ciryon. From further away came Elrond Peredhel, Lord of Imladris and Gil-galad's Vice-Regent of Eriador, accompanied by his advisor Erestor. And from further still, from the land of Belfalas, came Celeborn and Galadriel. With them traveled their daughter Celebrian and her reunion with Elrond was't a source of joy to them both and a renewal of their love in darkening times.

Now when the day of the council drew 'nigh, a messenger rode swiftly back to the court and he whispered his tidings to the high king alone.

"My Lord, I regret to inform thee that I was't unsuccessful. Either she 'tis nowhere within the borders of thy realm, or else by her stealth she hast eluded me."

Gil-galad sighed and dismissed the messenger. For the first time he had allowed the pleas of Finarfin's daughter to sway him and had sought for Helluin in time of war. Now it seemed she was't unavailable to him. Another sigh escaped him, but this was't one of relief. Then he put the matter from his mind, for other messengers had arrived.

"My Lord, King Amdír of Lórinand shalt honor the court with his presence in council."

"My Lord, an emissary from the woodland realm of Calenglad i'Dhaer hast arrived for the council."

"My Lord, the entourage representing King Durin IV, Lord of Khazad-dum 'tis now 2 days east upon the road."

To all these announcements Gil-galad nodded and beside him Elendil smiled. Their alliance was't coming together as they had hoped it would. And Ereinion thought to himself, what is the absence of one more warrior to such a strength as we now forge?

When the council convened upon 21 Gwaeron, (March 21st, the Spring Equinox), there met the lords of Lindon, Mithlond, Arnor, Gondor, Belfalas, and Imladris. Joining them were King Amdír and Prince Amroth of Lórinand, Prince Thranduil of Calenglad i'Dhaer, and a party of a dozen Naugrim of Hadhodrond.

In all the generalities the emissaries agreed wholeheartedly. They would commit their strength to a campaign to destroy once and for all, the threat of Sauron Gorthaur. In only a few particulars was't there dissent. 'Twas decided that the armies of King Oropher and King Durin would fight 'neath their own banners, but in coordination with the remainder of the alliance. King Amdír's troops, being relatively few in number, would join their Nandor brethren and fight beside King Oropher's army. These decisions had been foreseen and accepted. The added strength was't far more important than the notion of a singular supreme command.

"I shalt meet thee 'nigh _Amon Sûl_**¹** in one year's time," King Elendil told Ereinion as he prepared to leave for Annúminas, "and thence shalt we march east to Imladris. Some further strategic planning shalt we needs make in light of developments to come."

**¹**(**Amon Sûl, _Hill of the Wind, amon_**(hill) + **_sûl_**(wind) Sindarin)

Gil-galad nodded in agreement. Ere they mustered and marched, much could shift upon the field of war. There were great matters of logistics to wrestle and many details to address ere the host could go to war. A year seemed barely time enough. How strong were the enemy troops and what was't their compliment? How long could Sauron hold out 'neath a siege of Mordor? How long could he hold his Barad-dúr? What sorcery did he command? What effects would his Ring bring to the battles? He sighed. T'would be a long year indeed. Now last he wondered, however shalt I contact the Laiquendi? I can think of no finer home guard for this land in our absence. And thinking thus he realized that the one Noldo he knew who could hath arranged such a meeting was't beyond his call. For once, Helluin hadn't arrived with ill-tidings upon her lips; indeed she was't still nowhere to be found.

In early Lothron, (May), King Oropher and Prince Thranduil returned to their realm in Greenwood and immediately the king sent for Helluin and Beinvír. He desired to know any more that she could tell him about the probable deployment of the Noldor and Sindar. But the messenger returned to his king without the two ellith, and he told his lord that they had indeed left the realm, headed south, a month past.

Prince Thranduil bid his father recall the words Helluin had spoken when first she had made her offer of aid; _"…I shalt make available all my expertise. None upon Arda know better the practice of combat, and none art more…available. I expect no summons from my king. Until the war comes, I offer my service as consultant, trainer, and tactician."_

"My Lord," the prince said, "she hath kept well her word such as she could, for the war began with the attack upon Minas Ithil in Gwirith of the year past. Indeed she stayed longer than expected."

King Oropher nodded in understanding. During the entire time he had been in Lindon he had not once heard the name of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel pass anyone's lips. Now the warrior had been called to battle, and with her friend, she had gone forth to meet the enemy. He could do 'naught but await the Host of the Alliance and then do the same.

**To Be Continued**


	65. In An Age Before Chapter 65

**In An Age Before – Part 65**

_Another short segment explaining the causes of the eventsduring the opening ofthe War of the Last Alliance...why did Sauron choose to fight a two-fronted war in both Gondor and Rhovanion?_**

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**

Upon that same day, Helluin and Beinvír were in the western part of that province of Gondor now called Calenardhon. They were some three days' journey northeast of Angrenost, the Iron Fortress, which in later days was't called Isengard. When they arrived the commander of the garrison welcomed them, for they were known in the southern realm by many of the captains.

Now Helluin inquired after the condition of the war and learned that for the past year King Anárion had indeed held back the enemy, denying them Osgiliath and the Vale of Anduin. Many had come to their aid from Lebennin, fiercer fighters than the Men of Gondor had expected, and such was't their stealth and prowess that they had largely become rangers, harrying the enemy from forward positions with hit and run tactics and staying ever on the move.

"But this I wager thou know," said Captain Barahir, "for were thou not upon a time, Chief Guardians of that realm? So 'tis said in the lore of that land, or so I hath heard."

"'Twas so indeed," Beinvír replied, proud that the lessons she and her partner had once taught the Men of Lebennin had been passed down faithfully and now served the current generation well. "For well 'nigh 16 centuries hath that land been defended thus."

"I see now thy garrison reduced, O Captain," Helluin observed.

"Indeed so, for 'twas deemed that the watch upon the Enedwaith 'twas less pressing than the need of troops in the east. So far the Men of the Mountains hath made no forays against us, yet we art ever watchful of the enemy at our back. Whether they art in league with the Great Enemy or simply act of their hatred towards us we know not for sure, yet we trust them not in either case. We hath not forgotten upon whose side they marched into Eriador long aforetime."

Helluin nodded in agreement. Though most of the strength of the Enedwaith of old had perished at the hands of Ciryatur's forces from Lond Daer, those who remained were bitter in their hatred of the Dúnedain.

"Though thou art ever welcome, I should ask thee, what brings thou hither?" Barahir said, looking from one elleth to the other. "For many art the places wherefore the need exists for warriors of thy prowess, and hither we art yet at peace."

Helluin sighed and spoke, sorry to put in such a position the honorable captain of Gondor.

"I hath need of thy _palantír_, for word hath come to me of the loss of the Ithil stone into the hands of Mordor. He can now see aught of what passes in the west, much to his advantage. I deem it time to take action and assail him, thereby forcing him to place himself into great jeopardy." She paused a moment as the captain began to shake his head.

"Thou know'th that only the king may give thee leave to view the stone, Helluin," he said gravely, "and such authority lies not with me to change this decree."

"This I know well, Captain, and therefore thou hast my apologies," she said as she looked him squarely in the eyes.

In a moment his will was constrained by her gaze and his initiative was't lost. He sat still and unmoving in his chair, a blank and dreamy expression taking hold upon his features. Helluin sighed and rose from her seat, gesturing Beinvír to join her. The Green Elf stood and passed a hand before the Man's face, receiving not a bit of reaction. She shook her head and gave her partner a mildly disapproving look.

Shortly later, when the custodian of the _palantír_ was similarly rendered motionless and staring dreamily off into space, Helluin bid Beinvír sit out of sight of the stone, and then she approached it. As she had in Elostirion, she grasped command of the Angrenost Stone and at once directed its sight to the Black Land. The image flared into existence.

O'er the dismal pinnacles of the Ephel Duath and the inner fences of the Morgai did her sight speed, bypassing Udûn for Gorgoroth and the far walls of the Ered Lithui. There upon the jutting spur of black rock that she had first seen in 1125 stood the Barad-dúr, the Dark Tower of Sauron Gorthaur. Her eyepoint climbed the heights of that fearsome edifice, up that damned façade to the chamber in which the Dark Lord skulked and plotted and kept his most coveted treasures. Herein she had espied him aforetime, newly come from the wreck of Númenor and then 'naught but a vapor of malice.

Now she made contact and penetrated the Enemy's innermost sanctum with her sight. In a moment he was't aware of her, as the _palantír _of Angrenost called forth to the Ithil Stone that was't now in his possession, and he spun to face her presence. In that moment he perceived her clearly 'cross all the miles between. The _palantír_ delivered an almost tangible vision to his mind; there stood Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, come to taunt and challenge him again. The blast of hatred he projected in return was't very nearly stifling; upon his finger she marked his Ring. Shadows moved behind him and she knew they numbered nine. Now from a distance and projecting thus her will through the Angrenost Stone, Helluin's power was't attenuated and she stood at a disadvantage. Still she put forth a half-hearted attempt to assail him with her will, vying as if to wrench his own stone from him, and was't rewarded with a vicious ethereal bludgeoning. In answer, Sauron attempted to take control of the Orthanc Stone. As ever he was't predictable.

In the high chamber of Angrenost, Helluin reeled 'neath the assault. Had she been face to face with him she would very nearly hath swooned. Then she recovered and for a time engaged him in a see-saw battle of wills o'er the mastery of the Ithil Stone. Yet she had not come to take it, and so she checked her efforts, and at the last she abruptly relinquished her claim to it such that the force Sauron expended against her rebounded to pummel him with much the same effect as when one party releases the rope in a tug of war. Theresult was't that for a moment, Sauron's eye was't blinded by a brilliant flaring of power.

When he regained his sight, he saw an image of Helluin amidst the forest of Calenglad i'Dhaer, training an army of ill equipped and undisciplined Moriquendi. He knew that place and he knew those Elves. They were from the barbaric tribe in Greenwood. He was't tempted, sorely tempted.

To the west his enemies in Gondor fought with skill beyond the measure he had expected of them, and they were much more numerous than he had guessed. Little progress had his forces made since taking Minas Ithil o'er a year before. For all practical purposes his western front was't a stalemate. Now to the north he saw a weak force, and they lay across a flat and uncontested land. The bully in him contemplated the gains in shifting his strategy and destroying them simply because he could. In a few years he could hold all the eastern bank of Anduin right up to the Ered Mithrin. T'would place him in an excellent striking position against Lórinand and Khazad-dum. And the forest itself would provide countless cords of fuel…he would relish leveling the forest to feed his furnaces. All he need do was't assign sufficient troops to keep Anárion occupied in Gondor and he could then command the remainder of his forces north, 'cross undefended farmlands and pastures. Scarcely 100 leagues' march lay 'twixt the Cirith Gorgor and the southern border of Greenwood.

A cold chuckle escaped him. He could always return later to finish with Isildur and Anárion. For now he would summon Herumor and Fuinur, the generals of his loyal Black Númenóreans, to march forthwith from Harad with their armies. They could enter his realm unmarked through the Nargil Pass, traversing Nurn and Gorgoroth more easily than Ithilien, ere they issued from Udûn. Mentally he ticked off the time required.

When he returned his gaze to the present, he marked Helluin drilling Nandor infantry in mock charges and the clumsy and uncoordinated performance of her troops. He noted the Noldo's exasperation and the Elves' low morale. His armies would crush them all and he would hold the survivors as thralls forever. This outcome he reveled in. In fact, he would force them to chop down their beloved trees and denude their home in Greenwood! Upon this day Helluin's impulsive act in trying to assail him through the Seeing Stones had gifted him intelligence of great worth. He resolved to thank her ere he enslaved her and tormented her for Ages with the knowledge. With a bark of laughter he slammed shut the contact 'twixt his mind and Helluin's and his_ palantír_ went dark.

In the high chamber of Angrenost, Helluin saw the _palantír_ abruptly go blank and she ceased her song. A song of power such as she had woven required much concentration and energy and now she felt fatigue. But she knew she had succeeded. Sauron had been so receptive to her imagery that he had never even noticed her melody. Rather he had merely sat as a thrall and listened as the pictures she wove came into his mind. _After his contests with Finrod Felagund and Lúthien Tinúviel he should hath been wiser_, Helluin thought, _yet oft greed blinds and so t'would seem such truth hath held true this day, thank the Valar._

Helluin had let him perceive his false victory in mastering the stone, and then she had offered him a prize. Predictably, her enemy had taken the bait. Helluin's visions would draw him out of the safety of his bastion of Mordor. Sauron would eventually march north, and there meet the Host of the Alliance, a vastly stronger enemy than she had shown him, and upon the Dagorlad his army would be destroyed. It would be a far easier victory for the Alliance than if they should besiege the guarded Black Land straightaway.

Helluin sighed and gave Beinvír a tired smile.

"Come, let us be away," she said offering her hand to her partner. The Green Elf clasped it and pulled herself to her feet. She looked over at the custodian, still staring off with eyes unfocused and the hint of a grin upon his lips, a trickle of drool edging from the corner of his mouth.

"And what of him, pray tell?"

"I am sure he shalt recover completely," Helluin said, offhandedly, "trust me."

Beinvír regarded her critically for a moment then shrugged and followed her lover to the stairs, taking a last glance at the enchanted Man.

In the meeting room, Captain Barahir yawned as they retook their seats and he gave them a self-conscious grin. He seemed completely oblivious to the lost time.

"Pray excuse me," he said, "more wine? Some more bread and cheese?"

"Thy pardon, Captain, but I believe we shalt be going," Helluin said.

"But thou hath only just arrived," he said in confusion.

"Good Captain, art thou well?" Beinvír asked with concern. "We arrived in the mid-afternoon and 'tis now just ere sunset. I fear we must be on the road."

The Captain looked at them in disbelief; the two ellith eyed him curiously. The view out the window behind them included long shadows darkening and purple streaking the sky. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

"I…I…"

"'Tis perhaps thy boredom, O Captain?" Helluin suggested. "Mayhaps thy mind hast simply glossed o'er such hours as art tedious to thee, returning now for our farewells?"

"I confess I know not," he said in mortified amazement, "I considered thee not boring I swear; much the contrary…"

"Sometimes the mind plays tricks," Beinvír suggested. "But in any case, we art not offended by thy lapse."

"My lapse…? But I suppose thou art correct though I know not how…indeed I am now confused," he admitted with a sigh. "If thou feel 'tis time for thy departure then of course I shalt wish thee well and safe upon the road. Perhaps thou would care to take with thee this wine? I think perhaps I shalt stick to cider for some time hence?"

"A noble notion, my good Captain," Helluin agreed, "and our thanks for thy offer. The wine is quite good, I deem. We shalt enjoy it and we shalt say 'naught of thy…_absence_."

"For that I thank thee, for indeed I am on duty. I still do not understand…"

"Pray worry thyself not o'er it," Beinvír told him, "I am sure thou doth not habitually sleep while in command. Perhaps t'would be best if indeed none of us mentioned this visit at all, then no questions could arise from it?"

"Very well," Captain Barahir gratefully agreed, "I hath had no visitors and hath 'naught to report for this day. Indeed it hast passed much like yesterday and the day before."

Helluin nodded in agreement and they took their leave quietly, drawing up their cloaks and hoods to attract less attention from the other soldiers of Gondor.

Now in the weeks and months that followed, Helluin and Beinvír kept a watch upon the Black Land, utilizing the stealth they had mastered to come close to the encampments of the enemy. At times they joined themselves to the Men of Lebennin, now called the Rangers of Ithilien, and wrought destruction upon their foes. At other times they climbed high into the Ephel Duath to spy upon Gorgoroth and Udûn, and much profit did King Anárion find in their ventures. Indeed 'twas oft by benefit of the intelligence they supplied that he was't able to hold Gondor during the four long years ere the Host of the Last Alliance took the field. In return, Helluin made one request of the King of Gondor and he granted it willingly. The watch of Helluin and Beinvír continued through 3431, 3432, 3433, and early 3434.

**To Be Continued**


	66. In An Age Before Chapter 66

**In An Age Before – Part 66

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'Twas in late-Narbeleth, (October) of S.A. 3433 that Helluin's practiced eye discerned the impending troop movements upon the Plain of Gorgoroth. The armies that Sauron had mustered there were preparing their camps for deployment in the spring. In Rhovanion on the eastern side of the Hithaeglir the winter was harsher than in Eriador, and the campaigning season would start later, perhaps in mid-Gwirith rather than in late-Gwaeron. Indeed the timing of Sauron's earlier attack on Minas Ithil proved the Noldo's tactical assessment.

"When their march begins we must change tactics," Helluin told Beinvír gravely, "and I shalt be engaging the enemy in a manner I hath long foreseen."

The Green Elf looked at her partner with fear widened eyes. "Thou shalt seek thy single combat with Sauron Gorthaur at last, shalt thou not? Thou shalt go hence into the Black Land to face him alone, forgetting all else save thy rage and thy lust of vengeance." A tear made its way silently down her cheek.

Helluin looked at her beloved in shocked confusion for a moment and then realized that such a conclusion should hath been far from a surprise. Oft enough had she chaffed at Sauron's flight from her and thrice now had she challenged him. 'Twas only logical that Beinvír should believe her capable of laying aside all concerns to pursue the great enemy of her people in a quest to redress a hatred borne through two Ages of the world. Tempting as it was't, 'twas not her goal. She took Beinvír in her arms and gazed deeply into her eyes, speaking silently to bypass the weaknesses of words.

_Not to face Sauron do I go, meldanya, nor to exact vengeance upon him. Long ago our friend Glorfindel spoke with foresight saying that not from the hands of the Eldar would his ruin come. This I believe, for somehow I feel the truth of it. Nay, I seek not the root of the evil, but rather its servants. I believe thou can see the reasoning of it. Thou may see too the necessity of it. Of all the Dark Lord's servants, there art but Nine against whom Men cannot stand. They come forth with terror that freezes the mortal soul. But I can hold them at bay and perhaps defeat them, for aforetime I rendered one unto his master's service, and still can I send unto the Void even such fell spirits as theirs._

_Thou seek to engage the Úlairi? 'Tis hardly better. They art spirits fell and steeped in the sorcery of their master. Helluin, I fear for thee. _

_Fear not, beloved. They art the shades of Men, bound and corrupted. Nothing more. Wherefore hath ever I feared the spirits of Men? The dead hold no terrors and these wraiths can make no threat I should take seriously. I hope to destroy them, but at the least distract them. They cannot be allowed to take the field, for Man and horse shalt shy from them. Of the Naugrim I know not, save for Durin's words that some kindreds may be held subject to two of the Seven. Nay, the Nine cannot be allowed to face the Alliance._

_Then take me with thee…_

_That I cannot do. By my armor am I protected from such weapons as bite flesh, and by the Light of Aman am I protected from such weapons as would strike the fëa. Thou hath neither. And more, I would not see thee in such danger for all the world, and while thou cannot escape the war, thou needs not place thyself in such jeopardy. _

_Then what would thou hath me do? Flee back to Eriador, there to await word of thy triumph or fall? To skulk in the rolling hills and downs while'st all others oppose the great evil of our times? Nay! I shalt not! _The Green Elf clenched tight her jaw and narrowed her eyes in stubborn determination.

Helluin regarded her partner's adamant expression. No, she would never return to Eriador. Helluin thanked her foresight for having made an arrangement with Anárion.

_Melanya_**¹, **_I hath asked a boon on thy behalf of King Anárion and he hath granted it in sincere respect for thy abilities. If thou woulds't seek a place in the battles, then accept from him the office of Commander of the Ithilien Rangers. The Men of Lebennin would gratefully serve thee as of old. _

**¹(melanya, _my love, mela-_** (love) + **_-nya_**(1st pers, poss, pro, suff, my)Quenya)

Helluin's words had the effect of causing the Green Elf to pause. Much as she hated to admit it, all of her partner's points had merit. She had neither armor of _mithril_ nor the Light of Aman. Were she to insist on accompanying her beloved, Helluin would be ever concerned for her safety and constrained in her effectiveness against the Úlairi. Yet her guts clenched at the thought of her lover going into such danger alone. She stamped her foot in frustration and brooded upon this twist of fate. Yet try as she might no other solution came to her. Finally she gave up in resignation.

_Thy points all art sound and I despise each and every one, _she chaffed, _yet neither can I allow myself to burden thee in danger nor pit my arguments against the necessity thou hast rightly foreseen. I hate this! I absolutely hate it. Yet I shalt contain myself and accept the offer of Anárion…for the Greater Good._ She shook her head and couldn't stop the tears that ran down her cheeks.

Helluin gathered her lover in her arms and hugged her tightly, stroking her back and whispering soothing words in her ear.

_Let us take respite from this conflict for a season, meldanya. Naught shalt advance 'till spring. Winter is the season of rest and we too shalt take somewhat of rest together while we may. I shalt send word of thy acceptance to Anárion and then we shalt seek a refuge._

The Green Elf could but nod in acceptance.

The next day the two followed a stream that ran down from the Ephel Duath towards Cair Andros, the long isle that lies midstream in Anduin. Shortly they passed a small pool from which the stream continued its downhill course west. Gradually the freshet gained in volume and in speed, and it scoured its banks digging itself into the earth. By another few miles the water was't a surging rapid deep in its course, hidden now 'twixt steep walls of stone o'er grown with boxwood. Some twelve miles from the feet of the mountains there lay a pool amidst deep cloven rock walls where the stream fell some ten fathoms o'er a precipice. The gathered waters roiled upon jagged rocks shorn from the cliff face in a natural cauldron ere they tumbled out again and resumed their course. From above the roaring of the waters 'twas hushed by the deep rock so that all below seemed apart from the world at the surface where a thinning forest ran downhill to Anduin. The land hid its turmoil 'neath a mirage of peace.

Helluin led Beinvír back from the brink amongst the cliff faces upstream, finding there a narrow pathway that led downward ere it disappeared into a fissure barely wide enough for them to pass, leading to a way underground. In the cave they could hear the hushed rush of water and all about them was't cool stone. Yet the subterranean passage 'twas not the pitch black to be expected. Indeed a flickering light grew as they advanced, until at last they came to a room, roughly circular and naturally hewn from the rock, which measured some five fathoms in diameter. Surely the most impressive feature of the space 'twas the western wall, for there the rock was't pierced fully through. The two gazed at a moving curtain of water, rushing downward in an endless cascade of silver and gold, and lit from without by the afternoon sun.

"I think that perhaps hither for a time we shalt find solitude and solace from the war," Helluin said, "both that already fought and that which is to come."

"Indeed so," Beinvír said, "and pray tell, how doth thou know of this place, for no clue 'tis readable from the land above?"

"The knowledge of it 'tis known amongst some of the Men of Gondor. 'Tis a refuge used at times by the rangers, but with winter oncoming and the cessation of the enemy's sorties, none should come hither 'till spring."

The Green Elf nodded.

"Then hither we shalt stay, and at our leisure wander the lands about, for Ithilien is a fine country, green and with many streams, and the sunsets 'cross Anduin and Gondor art beautiful too. Were it not so close 'nigh the land of the enemy, even more fondly would I regard it. Indeed I should hath expected many Elves to abide hither."

"Perhaps such was once even so," Helluin mused, "when 'neath the stars many Nandor roamed these lands ere the founding of Belfalas long ago. I know not, for in that time did I dwell in Aman, and after, in Beleriand. Yet I can imagine many of Lenwe's folk tarrying hither, maybe even in this very place, while delighting in Anduin and Ithilien's many streams ere they made their way down to the sea."

"Well then for a season shalt this place again host Elven folk, even if 'tis but two," Beinvír said. She set her travel bag on the rock floor 'nigh the window and sat to watch it, patting a spot beside her in invitation.

Helluin doffed her bag and weapons and took a seat beside her. There they settled, their sides in contact, Helluin wrapping an arm about the Green Elf's shoulders, and shortly Beinvír laid her head against Helluin's chest. There they sat and watched the window pass from silver to gold, and thence through the evening as 'twas kindled to orange flame and ruddy fire, ever flickering and changing as Anor sank lower in the sky beyond. And later, as the bonfire of the West fell to dark embers, they saw it shimmering, and like an enchanted window offering a view into the Elder Days, turning to a curtain of silver glass, transmuted thus and brightening as Ithil topped the Ephel Duath and shone down upon its namesake land.

Beinvír turned to Helluin, the moon glow lighting her eyes, and they shone from her fair countenance framed by its cascading fall of night darkened hair. Helluin felt her passion rise at the sight and she met her beloved's lips tenderly in a kiss.

The Green Elf wrapped both arms around her lover and urged her to deepen the kiss, revealing the depths of her own feelings and projecting them to her partner. For a moment she wondered if her spirit had already known the treasure she would claim when she fled the house of Iarwain and sought the dark Noldo just o'er two thousand years before. She had told herself that she sought adventure, but had her fëa seen with clearer vision and led her to love? She knew not, only that it had quickly o'er taken her and deepened with the years, and that she was't blessed. Though love 'twixt the Eldar is deep and abiding, wrought with passion and eternal commitment, theirs 'twas special even by the standards of the Quendi.

Blessed too felt Helluin, that hence from no foreseeable fate or effort had come her soul's companion, unexpected and yet more welcome than any skill she'd sought through centuries to master. Her heart, alone for millennia, had found in her unlikely friend, more than a traditional mate, for what they shared 'twas indeed an _omentie hondar_**¹**, and they were that which was't known as_véru fëar_**²**;what later lore would call soulmates.

**¹**(**omentie hondar,_ meeting of two hearts, omentie _**(meeting of two) + **_honda _**(heart, of the) + **_-r_** (pl) Quenya)

**²**(**_véru fëar, _**lit. trans. **_married spirits, _**ver. trans. **_soulmates véru _**(married couple) + **_fëa _**(spirit) + **_-r_** (pl) Quenya)

Neither of them could hath pointed to a single moment in which the realization of their union had come upon them, yet each had known the undeniable truth of it. Perhaps it had been in the moment when Helluin, ruminating through the night in Eriador, had realized that she wished more for Beinvír to join her on her journey to Eregion than she did to travel alone. 'Twas a shocking change for her, she who had always heeded first her wanderlust whether accompanied or alone. Perhaps for Beinvír it had been in the moment she realized the depth of her fear for her friend, as she'd watched her leaving to confront Celebrimbor at the guildhouse where she might well come face to face with Sauron himself. But each knew without a doubt that by the time they had lit the high talan upon the main mast of _Valacirca_ with the light of their lovemaking 'neath the stars, that their connection was't forged and their fates together entwined. Through all their trials and the resulting pain since, this they had never doubted; that they would be together until the end of days. Surely some strain of notes had traced the journey of their fëar through each movement of the First Song.

Late in the night Helluin held Beinvír's eyes, and while the Green Elf was't thus engaged did she reach for the velvet pouch that she had carried from Khazad-dum. From it she drew forth the craft of Ishkabibúl, in its own way every bit as much a masterwork as that which Gneiss had wrought so long before.

_Melethril nin, aníron cin garad hé taith melon, garad trí anrandath sui garoch elu nin_**¹** Helluin said silently mind to mind.

**¹**(**Melethril nin,aníron le garad hé taith melon, garad trí anrandath sui garoch elu nin,_ My lover, I wish thee to have this symbol(sign) (of) my love,_** **_to hold through all the Ages as you hold my heart, __melethril(f.) _**lover(f.) + **_nin_**(my)+ **_aníro-_**(wish) + **_-n_**(1st pers. sub. pro, I) + **_le_**(arch. dir. obj. pro, thee)**_ garo- _**(have, hold) + **_-ad_**(inf. suff, to) + **_hé_**(this) + **_taith_**(sign) + **_melo- _**(love) + **_-n_**(1st pers. poss. suff, my) + **_garo-_**(have, hold) + **_-ad_**(inf. suff, to) + **_trí _**(through) + **_anrand _**(Age(14400 years) + **_-ath_**(coll pl) + **_sui _**(as) + **_garo-_**(have, hold) +**_-ch_**(2nd pers. sing. pro. suff, you) + **_elu _**(heart) + **_nin_**(my) Sindarin)

Upon the ring finger of the Green Elf's left hand, Helluin slipped a doubled band, wrought of mithril and gold in the form of two trees with branches entwined, whose joined canopy was't formed of the faceted diamond first won from the basalt dome upon Bundushathur.

Beinvír felt the ring slide onto her finger and she saw Helluin's face, so near to her own, waver and blur as her eyes welled with tears of joy. Her heart leapt higher than the sky above, floated upon clouds, and basked in the warm summer sun. Never mind that a late autumn night lay without and rock stood above their heads, nor that the ring symbolized a love and promise long ago declared. 'Twas the gesture, true and heartfelt, that brought such joy to Beinvír's heart; knowing that after o'er two millennia together, never did Helluin take her for granted. She chanced a look down at her hand and was't o'ercome by the sight. 'Twas a Noldorin emblem sure, Laurelin and Telperien wrought in fine metals with crown aglow as in the Elder Days of Aman…she recognized the Two Trees instantly from the vision Helluin had shown her in the _palantír_ of Elostirion. Worn upon the finger where Helluin had placed it, 'twas no less than a symbol of marriage between two souls, and her words had been no less than a vow.

Love fairly radiated from the Green Elf's heart, and Helluin, who had for so long wandered alone, felt it beat upon her with the same welcome awe that she had once felt while'st standing 'neath the radiant dews of the Two Trees. She well 'nigh glowed with happiness.

So upon that first night, and upon many nights thereafter, Helluin spread the bedrolls and ground cloths and laid her beloved down upon them, and Beinvír opened her arms in welcome and received her. In their refuge they lay together, reveling in their love and bringing each other to heights of bliss that would fill the tales of many bards and inspire the lyrics of many minstrels. Yet sweeter than any notes plucked from the harps of gold in the Elder Days, and more true than any notes sung by any voice, yea, even that of Daeron of Doriath or mighty Maglor himself, the strains of Helluin and Beinvír's love o'erflowed to brighten that portion of Arda as had not been since the fall of the Great Lamps so many Ages aforetime. 'Nigh the Black Land a beacon of light was't kindled.

Through the nights of winter, upon the very verge of the greatest war of the Second Age, the Window upon the West shone out o'er the dark deeps above the pool of Henneth Annûn, illuminated with the Light of the Spirit, the Light of Love. None upon two legs came 'nigh, and those upon four marked but understood not. Only from far, far away did any spirits see and understand, and in their understanding did they rejoice, that the love of the two ellith ensconced in that room of stone laid upon that country a lingering charm and faint enchantment, and though in latter days would many foes and evil creatures walk that land, still never would it fall wholly into evil. Ithilien would await its liberation and the coming of its king and prince, ever withholding a part of its virtue until better days.

**To Be Continued**


	67. In An Age Before Chapter 67

**In An Age Before – Part 67**

_Happy holidays to all readers.No matter what holiday you celebrate, may the blessings of joy, peace, and health be with you. -P.B._**

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**Chapter Forty-three**

**_The March to Dagorlad – The Second Age of the Sun_**

Throughout the year following the forming of the alliance in Lindon, Gil-galad and Elendil were indeed heavily occupied with the mustering of their armies. To the High King of the Eldar came every Noldo and Sinda in Eriador save those who clove to the Lord of the Havens. The Falathrim, those Sindar who of old had withdrawn to the Isle of Balar and served 'neath Cirdan the Shipwright, formed an army of their own, 9,000 strong. These marched east with Gil-galad's 18,000 in mid-Gwaeron, (March), of 3431, making their way from Mithlond towards Baranduin.

Unlike their march in the War of the Elves and Sauron half an Age before, this time the host crossed Eriador passing north of the Emyn Beraid and south of the Emyn Uial, skirting the up thrusts of the downlands upon their north and joining the East Road at its bridge o'er the Baranduin. Thence they marched thither to Amon Sûl, to join as agreed with the Host of the Dúnedain.

Upon 28 Gwirith, (April 28th), the Host of the Eldar came 'nigh the great watchtower upon the Hill of the Wind, and there they halted in amazement in spite of themselves. Thither before them, arrayed in gleaming ranks and files, stood the Host of Arnor; 100,000 knights and foot soldiers, and a quarter again their number of support personnel. In a row beside them stood miles of wagons laden with all an army long campaigning could want for. The host's vanguard alone numbered 10,000 knights, and at their head rode Elendil, Isildur, and the three princes of Gondor.

The 27,000 stunned Eldar marched alongside the bright massed columns of the Dúnedain, all standing silently at parade rest, ere they came at last to the fore of their ranks where the two High Kings met.

"_Mae govannen, Hír en Dúnedain_**¹**_," _Ereinion said, warmly clasping forearms with Elendil.

**¹**(**Mae govannen, Hír en Dúnedain, _Well met, Lord of the Men of the West (Númenóreans) _**Sindarin)

"_Mae govannen, Haltharan Celbin_**¹,**_" _Elendil replied with a smile. Though he sat at the head of an army four times Gil-galad's count, 'twas the King of Arnor who briefly bowed his head. He offered a similar gesture to Lord Cirdan and acknowledged several others of the great amongst the Eldar.

**¹**(**Mae govannen, Haltharan Celbin, _Well met, High King of the Elves of Light (Amanyar/Noldor),_** **_hald _**(high) + **_aran_** (king) + **_celbin _**(elves of light, pl) Sindarin)

After a brief council the leaders signaled the march forward and the combined Host of Eriador made its way upon the Great East Road, 40 leagues towards the River Mitheithel. Upon 5 Lothron the armies commenced their traverse of the rougher lands north of The Angle, finally reaching the Bruinen on the 10th. Thither they encamped for the night and in the morning entered the hidden valley of Imladris. In that guarded refuge the hosts repaired, training together as a unit, changing arms, augmenting their supplies, and sending out messages to coordinate with their other allies. Also during that time improvements were made to the northern pass o'er the mountains. In all they spent three years finalizing their readiness, and in the early spring of 3434 word was't sent to Greenwood, Lórinand, and Khazad-dum that their march o'er the Hithaeglir would commence.

The high pass north of Imladris had been widened and graded where possible for the passage of their arms, wagons, and horses, yet 'twas still 'nigh on a month ere the whole of the Host of Eriador was't ensconced in Rhovanion about the western spur of the Men-i-Naugrim. In those days no major road led thence south upon either shore, but the plan called for the crossing of Anduin at the road's ford, and thither the warriors of the Eldar and the Dúnedain crossed.

"We march 'nigh Anduin," the Elves warned their mortal counterparts, "but set thou no foot in the forest nor do aught in disrespect of it, for spirits powerful and ancient walk 'neath its shadows, or so say the Nandor of Oropher who dwell thither."

The word was't passed and the Men of the West nodded and conducted themselves accordingly. In those days the Dúnedain still took to heart the wisdom of the Elves and gainsaid it not. Even they could feel the watchfulness and tension radiating from the deep shadows 'neath the trees scarcely a furlong or two from the river banks.

"What danger lies 'neath yonder trees?" King Elendil asked of Ereinion one night at the officers' board. His curiosity had been peaked by the prohibition against hunting or gathering wood in the forest.

Gil-galad sighed, having only lore and rumors to offer his friend.

"With my own eyes I know not of any peril dwelling thither," he began, "yet much lore doth tell of ancient and powerful guardians amongst the trees. If any hath seen aught of them though, I cannot say."

"Some hath seen them indeed," Cirdan said, "and many still harken to the tales of the People of the Trees. For myself, I hath not met such, yet upon the starlit Westward March of our people, some did chance upon them and shared speech with them. Since that time I know of only a few who hath held converse with the Onodrim."

Gil-galad regarded his elder mentor closely. None had spoken to him of such meetings. Oft times still he felt like a young ellon harkening at the feet of his tutor.

"My Lord," the Shipwright said, "a strange tale did Lord Celeborn relate to me o'er supper in Lindon at thy council; he and the Lady Artanis. Both of them hath spoken with Oldbark, Lord of Calenglad i'Dhaer," he nodded in the general direction of the woods. "They found him civil and wise, yet the lord of many unruly subjects of myriad kinds. Also, they had their introduction to that lord by the grace of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, in whose esteemed confidence she and her friend Beinvír hath long been held."

The High King groaned at the mention of the dark warrior. She had disappeared completely for the past few decades, having indeed been last seen by Elendil somewhere 'nigh the turn of the century.

"Whither hast Helluin and Beinvír delivered themselves?" Elendil asked innocently.

"I hath no idea," Gil-galad said, "and usually I hath no idea. Indeed she could be anywhere. I deem her only superficially a subject 'neath my crown anyway and ever given to wandering and acting upon her own wisdom."

"I wager she is already engaged in the war, my Lord," Cirdan offered. "No logistical problems hath she with only herself and her friend to consider. I should find myself amused indeed if she were to slay Sauron ere we took the field, and coming thence to the Barad-dúr, find her thither with Fingolfin's pennant waving o'er the battlements and legions of Yrch doing her bidding." He chuckled. "Perhaps she shalt even hath contrived to take upon herself another Ring."

At this the High King blanched and his head jerked up in alarm.

"Speak not thus even in jest, my friend. Such I deem far from impossible. What a horror t'would be that her darkness be augmented by his. No less a threat than Morgoth himself would I deem her."

"Helluin…?" Elendil could only stare at his hosts in disbelief.

"Oh yes," Gil-galad groaned, "Twas long ere thy time, but ever from of old hath her battle fury known no bounds. In Beleriand, in Gondolin, in Avernien, and in Eriador in the last war…ever she charges into battle screaming _'Beltho Huiniath!'_, and all those about her art affected, cleaving to her will and following her as if besotted. Such is her lust of mayhem that I should not doubt if in her lifetime she hath spilt more blood than Sauron himself. The notion of her darkness and Sauron's combined should she somehow contrive to defeat him and take his Ring is too horrible to contemplate."

Elendil regarded the High King of the Eldar. Ereinion at least seemed to believe his doubts well founded and took them seriously. Yet upon those occasions when he had met the Noldo and her friend, they had been ever courteous, noble, and calm. The King of Arnor shook his head.

"My friend, what the king says is true in so far as it doth go," Cirdan assured him. "Yet there is far more. Alone of us all hast she repelled a personal attack by the Dark Lord, confounding his gambit to enthrall her with his sorcery. She charged him, challenging single combat, or so saith Lord Glorfindel, but he fled her presence. And she saved many of thy forebears at the Sack of Avernien, indeed doing thus at the request of a Vala. In no other doth the Light of Aman shine so brightly, and yet she forged a weapon of such potent darkness that many of us mistrust her." Here he cast a glance upon his king. "Hath thou marked the ring blade she wears? The cirth upon it inspired the Dark Lord's creation of his One Ring, for the script upon Sauron's Ring is related and no less fell."

"Yet none hold a greater hatred for the Dark Lord," Glorfindel said, speaking for the first time, "nor art any other of his enemies so marked or so sought in his malice. I deem she hast no desire for the Enemy's Ring, for to rule others when she hast reveled so long in her solitude would be to chain herself with the bonds of rule; this she knows well. I fear not her falling thus, nor taking up aught which she might win from his hand. Indeed I should wager her first act would be to cast it into Orodruin, and she more quickly and with less regret than any other."

That night after the meal was't finished, many thought long and deep o'er what they had heard. The idea of defeating and taking the enemy's Ring, a repository of great and fell power, 'twas attractive to no few, especially amongst the Dúnedain. Wielding such a weapon could bring security to their realms such as no other thing imaginable. Yet the act that would make such a possession possible was't deemed beyond any realistic aspirations and soon enough laid aside. There was't much more pressing than such daydreams to consider. And so the Host continued its southward march as the weeks Gwirith passed into Lothron.

Now upon 3 Lothron, (May 3rd), S.A.3434, the Host of Eriador reached the point 'cross Anduin from the mouth of the River Ninglor, that Men called the Gladden. Thither they were met by the Army of King Oropher, 26,000 strong, which appeared abruptly out of the verge of Greenwood. They had marched within the forest, pacing the Host of Eriador as they made their way south from the Men-i-Naugrim. 'Twas a coup for them to hath dogged thus the footsteps of the Eldar and Edain for 120 miles without being discovered.

Alone did King Oropher and Prince Thranduil meet with the leaders of the Allied Host. They agreed to continue their march to the southern border of Greenwood within the forest ere joining ranks in the flatlands beyond. Should any force seek to waylay the exposed hosts of Elendil and Gil-galad, they would soon be fighting an army at their backs that could appear from the trees at will. The Elves of Greenwood would hold and ensure the safety of the larger army's eastern flank.

When their short council concluded, Oropher and Thranduil rejoined their army and melted back into Greenwood. Shortly there was't no sign of them at all. The forest lay silent and undisturbed as before. Elendil shook his head. These Nandor were stealthy far beyond his people, yet not so perfected of the trait as were the Nandor of Eriador.

In the year after his return from the council in Lindon, upon a night when Ithil hid his face, one had come alone to his court in Annúminas. Even after being announced and admitted he had been difficult for the king to see in his own chamber. The High King had been on edge as the visitor had lifted the hood from his head and revealed himself to be one of the Eldar, clad in a shadowy cloak of mixed greens.

"My greeting upon thee O King of Men," he had said in a musical voice speaking antique Sindarin, "I am called Dálindir, and I bring thee word from the Laiquendi of Eriador. Fear thee not in thy absence after the peace of thy lands, for this country shalt my people guard, and free of thine enemies shalt it remain 'til thy return. Fare thee well in thy war."

Ere Elendil could question him he rose and bowed and then melted into the shadows of the chamber. Somehow he moved without being seen and only the closing of his chamber door did the High King mark. In the hallway outside, no trace of this Dálindir had the sentries noticed and indeed the hall lay silent and empty. Elendil half believed he had dozed and dreamt of a ghost out of the Elder Days.

Only later with the counsel of Gil-galad and Cirdan did he come to understand that he had been granted a great boon. He alone of all Men had met the King of the Laiquendi. Both of the Eldar of Lindon knew his name for it had figured in one of Helluin's tales, yet neither had ever met him. Of the Green Elves they recounted some sketchy impressions from Ossiriand and little more. Indeed it seemed that Beinvír was't the only Laiquende they had ever met in Eriador in all the years of the Second Age. It seemed that not even another Elf could mark their presence should they not desire it, while a mortal could walk within arm's reach of one of that folk and never know it. When Elendil had gone to war he had brought almost every able-bodied fighter in Arnor, for he feared that no ill would come to his realm in his absence.

Now the southward march of the Allied Host continued another 40 leagues down the eastern banks of Anduin, and upon 16 Lothron, (May 16th), they paused, for a great crossing of river craft was't in progress just ahead. Already the 6,000 warriors of Lórinand waited upon the eastern shore, securing the landing area within a cordon of archers. These wore blue-black armor of small, fitted, o'erlapping plates, much like a reptile's scales, and they bore curved daggers and a few scimitars as well as their bows.

Still crossing Anduin were their allies, the Host of Khazad-dum. Those already upon the hither bank waited in silent companies, perfectly drawn up in ranks and files. Each bore upon their backs a heavy, massive pack filled with rations and goods for their deployment. In their armor of blackened steel, plate, mail, and helm, they appeared well nigh as thick as they were tall. Each carried a great axe, a long-shafted, double-bladed labrys, a shorter single-bladed axe, and a pair of small double-bladed axes tucked into the backs of their belts. They wore heavy boots soled with iron, thick leather gauntlets, and their long beards were plaited upon their chests. As each boat was't unloaded, the occupants immediately fell into formation with their fellows. There they stood still as statues and moved not afterwards. Into the afternoon the ferrying of the Dwarvish Host continued and during all that time those waiting remained immobile. At their head stood their officers and their king, equally still. The Dúnedain and the Eldar watched in amazement.

When at last the crossing was't complete, the Naugrim gave a great shout as with one voice and began marching south in perfectly coordinated steps that shook the ground underfoot. 'Twas a first for all the Dúnedain present; for no living Man had seen the Naugrim marching forth from their mansions as an army going to war. Only a few of the Eldar had seen such in Beleriand, long ago in the First Age, and even these had never seen the Host of Khazad-dum, but rather the lesser Hosts of Nogrod and Belegost. The much smaller force that some had seen come to fight in Eregion couldn't compare with this vast army. Here were 65,000 heavy infantry, fully equipped and perfectly disciplined, the visible evidence of a strongly militant culture. In the coming war they would make valuable allies.

Now ere the march of the Host of Eriador continued, the leaders met with King Amdír and Prince Amroth of Lórinand. From the army of the Golden Wood a party made their way thither into Calenglad i'Dhaer. There they met with Oropher and Thranduil. Upon their return King Amdír issued orders and the entire army moved into the Greenwood, quickly disappearing from sight. And when they had gone, the High Kings Gil-galad and Elendil continued their march to the south.

**To Be Continued **


	68. In An Age Before Chapter 68

**In An Age Before – Part 68**

**Chapter Forty-four**

_**The Caging of the Nine – The Second Age of the Sun

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**_

_**Note: **hath any readers of the extant accounts of the War of the Last Alliance at the end of the Second Age wondered whither were engaged those most fearsome of Sauron's servants? In none of JRR Tolkien's reports hath aught been told of their whereabouts during the Siege of the Barad-dúr and the fall of their master. They appeared not during the war, nor hindered the final combat and the taking of Sauron's Ring. Surely such fell allies would hath wrought terror upon the mortal Hosts of the Alliance, and 'naught but a few of the great amongst the Eldar of Lindon might hath withstood them. T'would hath been a disaster. Therefore such accounts as name their acts and place their whereabouts must surely be lost, for such a master of cunning and lover of despair as the Abhorred woulds't not hath withheld their aid from his cause, save for some great reason. Herein lies the account of their fate.

* * *

_

Now spring had come in the year 3434, and upon the Ephel Duath farsighted eyes watched the march of the Host of Mordor commence. 'Twas 10 Gwirith. From Gorgoroth the unruly columns of Yrch and Easterling Men followed the dusty roads through the Black Land to the Isenmouthe. Amongst them strode dull-witted Tor, duller still for the enchantment Sauron had laid upon them that they could withstand the day, obliviously crushing underfoot any unlucky enough to get in their way. Thence into Udûn they passed ere they issued from the Cirith Gorgor in a barely ordered mass, the last upon 13 Gwirith. In the morn would Helluin and Beinvír take up again the war.

"And now at last the time hath come, _meldanya_," Helluin had said as she rose from their place of concealment with Anor's first light.

Beinvír had nodded, saying nothing, but she moved forward and wrapped the dark Noldo in her arms, crushing her with deceptive strength in a desperate hug.

"As 'twas aforetime when I left Imladris, I shalt rejoin thee after all is done, whether upon the Hither Shores or the Blessed," Helluin promised.

"And I shalt await thee as aforetime, my love," the Green Elf said, leaning up to kiss her lips, "even were it for a score of Ages." She could not help but recall the doom spoken by the Eagle.

For long both held each other's gaze, committing to memory for their comfort every striation in their beloved's eyes and each nuance of expression in the soul behind them. But finally they parted, letting their finger linger in contact yet a moment longer ere they separated at last. Helluin thought her partner's face would be the last fair thing she would see for many long days. Instead, t'would be many years.

Immediately Helluin strode o'er the pinnacle of the Mountains of Shadow ere she could think better of it, while'st Beinvír hunkered down and watched her until she was't but a distant speck traversing the Morgai. Then she turned and made her way down the outer slope of the Ephel Duath, heading west towards Anduin. At the foot of the mountains she knew a company of rangers awaited her, invisible, but felt. The Green Elf would take up again her role as Chief Guardian, but this time serving as a battle commander in time of war.

Now when Helluin topped the Morgai she took up the full measure of her stealth and not a wisp of dust did her feet raise as she descended that steep slope. Ever her eyes flicked 'cross the landscape, doing her best to contain the nausea its horrible ugliness brought to her stomach. 'Twas not a growing thing to be seen, nor visible water either, and 'naught but black rock, frost-splintered and chipped to talus so sharp that a misstep would cut the soles of one's boots.

Finally Helluin reached the bottom and there struck the road leading to the Isenmouthe. She swore she could still smell the stench of the Yrch in the air and clinging to the rocks. Such miserly breezes as tried to alleviate it assailed the nostrils with a tang of flint, sharp, bitter, and dry. 'Twas now 14 Gwirith and Mordor lay emptied.

Towards the south did Helluin made her way, and for a dozen miles she proceeded, watching as the Barad-dúr was't eclipsed by Orodruin. At the twelfth mile she came to a joining whereat the west road met a spur leading due east. 'Twas Sauron's Road, the direct way to the Black Tower, which passed 'nigh the Mountain of Fire and from whence branched the winding spur that climbed to the _Sammath Naur_**¹**.

**¹**(**Sammath Naur, **Chambers of Fire, the cavern inside of Orodruin which gave access to the magma core in the Cracks of Doom. Here Sauron had forged the One Ring and performed other acts of dark sorcery. Sindarin)

A score of miles to her southwest, well up in the heights of the Ephel Duath, Helluin marked the narrow cleft of the Pass of Cirith Ungol. It appeared as a notch, backlit with the ruddy light of the westering sun. Almost it appeared engulfed in flame. Thither had passed the forces which had assailed Minas Ithil five years aforetime, but now that way appeared disserted. Still she went forward with stealth, slipping from harsh shadow to harsh shadow along the roadside. She made but another two leagues ere she stopped for a rest in the last of the daylight. A gulp of water and some waybread did she consume.

Night was't Helluin's ally, wherein blessed shadows hid much, and she intended to use the dark to her advantage. She welcomed the cooler air and the diminishing of detail in that abhorrent landscape which lay all about her. The peaceful stillness was't even gifted with starlight, but when she looked up she thought those twinkling points had never seemed so distant or so cold. Still she breathed easier and her nausea abated. Thence through the hours of darkness she traveled, adding the black shadows to her stealth, and passing another nine leagues.

Dawn found the Noldo at the branch where her way met the road coming down from the High Pass. But now both roads lay empty. Sauron had truly emptied his lands.

Now for some time the Barad-dúr had lain straight ahead, rising due east upon its black spur of rock. Sunrise had shown it much nearer than it had been when it had faded into the previous evening's gloaming. Yet with each step Helluin took it seemed to loom closer. Slowly it grew, yet not slowly enough, for no destination in Middle Earth could one consider less welcome. 'Twas an inescapable and threatening presence, felt as much as seen; a perfect symbol of the hopelessness and despair that lay upon that land..

The Dark Tower rose 250 fathoms, the spur it stood upon another 80, bringing the pinnacle of its topmost battlement to almost 2,000 feet above the Plateau of Gorgoroth. It dwarfed Angrenost, standing to four times its height. Ever it seemed to loom taller, and the illusion of being naked to all eyes within it grew well 'nigh unbearable. The sole consolation was't that it still lay yet two score miles ahead.

Much closer now stood Orodruin. Indeed that reeking cindercone 'twas a scant five leagues away, and the foot of the climbing track to the Sammath Naur lay but eight leagues distant. _Surely_, Helluin thought, _no other place in all of Mordor would the Dark Lord watch so closely, if indeed he watched anything other than the progress of his armies. At the very least, a disturbance thither t'would be most likely to draw attention should one desire it._ When she took up again her march, Helluin went forward with complete Laiquendi stealth, as though she were approaching a nearby corps of foes.

At noon Helluin set her first foot upon the climbing road to the Sammath Naur, knowing that from here on there could be no turning back. Indeed stealth had served her well thus far, but 'twas a cloak she would soon shed. Thence up that curving path she tread, the scent of brimstone and ammonia growing ever stronger, and it seemed a weak breeze contrived to deliver a choking dust of crushed rock and alkali to her throat. Harsh glared Anor above and the rock heated 'neath her boots and reflected back into her face. Ever it seemed there was't a scree underfoot threatening to cause a slip and betray her progress with a puff of dust. Helluin had walked in many places, hot, cold, bright, dark, wet and dry. In all her years no less hospitable journey could she recall since crossing the Helcaraxe well 'nigh 4,000 years before. Thus did Helluin trudge thither up Orodruin, sharing her way with ill memories, dust devils, and fumaroles.

Now the fiery mountain stood in all 4,500 feet tall, having a base of cinders and ejected blocks rising 3,000 feet to a shoulder whereupon stood a cone of slags and hardened lava rivulets 1,500 feet tall. The threshold of the Sammath Naur lay roughly halfway up the inner cone to the summit, placing it 3,750 feet above Gorgoroth. Thence adding the curve of the road as it wound its _doesil_**¹** circuit from east to west, made the climbing track in all 18 miles.

**¹**(**doesil, **clockwise or sun's way)

Anor hung low above the Ephel Duath and the shadow of Orodruin reached east so that its tip lay at the feet of the Barad-dúr when Helluin came at last before the door of the Sammath Naur. For long moments she stood looking out through the reek of fumes to Gorgoroth below. Then she cast her eyes on Sauron's Road, following it east, tracing it to the rising causeway that delivered it across the more broken lands a score miles on. There it passed 'twixt fuming chasms founded upon beds of lava, and finally to the great iron bridge, a full mile in length, that carried the way o'er the abyss where the two chasms met.

The bridge wavered in the shimmering heat from the magma far below that cast up a ruddy glow upon its undersides while leaving the road bed above dark as a ramp of night. Helluin's Elven sight followed the way across that last bridge to the western gate of the Barad-dúr, flanked by towers of iron, and barred with banded door and spiked portcullis. In the shadows and the wavering glare moved tiny specks, sentries of the Black Tower dwarfed by their surroundings, for the gate rose twenty fathoms high and stood twenty fathoms wide.

Helluin let her eyes travel upwards. Battlements crowned massive walls, arches conveyed walkways wide as city avenues, and tower built upon tower upwards to the bleak sky. Crowning all was't the shaft of the Black Tower itself, like a jagged spike of jet, pierced by windows like dead eyes, and crowned with cruel paired horns like a Valaraukar. What inconceivable weight bore down upon the tortured stone of its foundations, she wondered, what crushing, grinding, ceaseless pressure exerted o'er pits and dungeons delved to hopeless depths that never saw light of day? She had seen its foundation and knew those massive walls rested on courses twenty yards thick. She had seen the prisons beneath o'er 2,000 years before ere they were roofed forever in granite and steel. 'Twas a city built vertically within a shell of walls, and all was't capped with an eye unsleeping. Helluin blinked and turned her sight away to gaze behind her at the door leading into the mountain.

The entrance was't marked by 'naught but a lintel supported upon fluted posts, devoid of any writing or image, yet clearly the work of its master, for 'twas black and conveyed an impression of gnashing teeth. 'Twas wholly fitting, Helluin thought as she strode towards it, for a place that was 'naught but the mouth of hell.

Darkness crept from the Sammath Naur, yet within its depths lay a wavering ruddy light just to be perceived. From the maw of the mountain came also a whispered groan of tortured halls where magma moved in ceaseless rivers flowing out towards the Black Tower. Here lay the heart of the fires of Sauron's sorceries, the well spring of dark energy for his fell power. He had tapped that infernal heat to shape his One Ring ere he bound it to his will. With that heat he had tempered his creation such that no lesser heat would affect it or suffice to unmake it.

Upon the threshold of the Sammath Naur Helluin stopped and turned again to face the Black Land. She watched as the light faded above the Ephel Duath, casting the eastern slopes into darkness. Quickly that shade spread across the blasted and tumbled landscape, swallowing boulder, fissure, and crag. Night fell upon Mordor like a blight upon a field of crops, or the spread of gangrene in a septic wound. To her eyes, it fairly leapt toward her across the leagues of Gorgoroth.

In a flash Orodruin was't enveloped in darkness as though Anor had winked out. The blackness surged across the tumbled wasteland to the feet of the Barad-dúr. And then slowly at first it climbed the Black Tower, enveloping wall and battlement and arch. Windows winked with torchlight from bottom to top; fires cast ruddy glows upon the walls of inner courtyards. Roiling lava again under-lit the great iron bridge as night returned to the Black Land. Still the darkness climbed.

Nightfall reached the Ered Lithui that backs the Barad-dúr, and the distance between the mountains and the tower gave the illusion that its pace there lagged behind the ascent upon the Sauron's fortress, yet immediately it seemed to accelerate in a bid to catch up. Helluin watched in silence as with a final effort the shadow crested the mountains and the tower in the same heartbeat. Mordor lay under night. 'Twas 15 Gwirith. She waited yet another heartbeat.

From the very doorstep of the Sammath Naur a radiance lit the night, stabbing out like a beam from the Chambers of Fire to the topmost chamber of the Barad-dúr. But this was't not the ruddy light of Sauron's fires. Instead 'twas as if a star had fallen to that high place above the Plateau of Gorgoroth, twinkling like a fair diamond in that accursed land. Its color blended silver and gold in a _ril_ preserved from another Age of the world. The Light of the Two Trees that his master had snuffed out came now again to haunt the counsels of Sauron Gorthaur. It flared within his land, his realm, and upon the very threshold of the heart of his power. While he had sent forth his armies and hosts to lay waste the lands of Rhovanion, one had come in unhindered defiance to wrest from him a prize he would suffer none other to hold. And he knew who it was't! Oh yes, he knew who would dare such an impertinence. Only one would invade his land in stealth and then proclaim herself thus in challenge.

In a blind rage the Lord of the Black Tower projected his Maia sight. Upon the doorstep leading to the Cracks of Doom stood Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, a sneer upon her face, and the Sarchram held aloft, glowing so that the cirth upon it shone like fire. She stared him directly in the eyes 'cross the miles between and drew her black sword.

_I shalt hath thy head, thou craven slave of a fallen master! Face me now as thou dared not aforetime! To the power my Ring shalt I add the power of thine, for of my darkness dids't thy inspiration come, thou lowly plagiarist. Ever hath thou been the follower. _He heard her derisive mockery ringing clearly in his ears.

With a savage snarl he blinked and slammed shut the connection. In the chamber behind him, Shadows paced and their count was't Nine.

"Get thee hence unto Orodruin!" He shrieked. "Bring the Mórgolodh to me alive!"

The nine Úlairi fled to do his bidding. When he again looked out the window the star's light was't extinguished and the night returned to black. No trace of his enemy could he see. Yet his skin crawled and his heart seethed with hatred and a tinge of fear. Could he actually lose his power to her? Even a Maia such as he knew not all that was't in the Song, and his master, far mightier than he, had twice fallen and was't now trapped in the Void whither Helluin's weapon also consigned her vanquished. The symmetry he perceived therein reeked of doom. Sauron felt fear and he hated it. He fixed his Eye on the Fiery Mountain and 'twas long ere his gaze returned to the march of his host.

Now in the darkness within the doorway upon Orodruin, Helluin sought the deepest shadows, and with her Elven cloak wrapped about her, she preserved her invisibility even from the Eye of Sauron, for though his sight could pierce distance, stone, and flesh, never since 1600 had he been able to pierce the cordon of fire Helluin had surrounded herself with. Thither she stood and watched the Black Land, and thither she waited.

A half hour after her display she noted the raising of the portcullis of the Black Tower's western gate. She marked the swift ride of the Nine upon their black steeds whose shoes threw sparks as they charged across the iron bridge. The Úlairi were dressed in rags it seemed, swathed in black cloaks so shabby as to make her own travel worn garb seem the height of fashion. Without pause they passed onto the causeway between the chasms of fire. They spared not their horses all that night. Hour after hour they raced towards her. 'Twas forty miles to the ascending road 'round Orodruin and another six leagues upwards ere they came to the Sammath Naur. Helluin figured she had a good four hours to wait.

Two hours past midnight she heard the faltering clop of hooves upon the climbing road. The gait of the black horses told of exhaustion; staggering feet, hocks shaking with effort, and breathing that came in labored gasps and snorts. The Úlairi had ridden their horses to death to fulfill their master's demands. Indeed the first steed collapsed two furlongs shy of the doorway and a squealing of frustration rent the air. Ere the Nine stood before the door, four more mounts had fallen, their hearts burst from the cruelly sustained effort.

And finally the Nine Ringwraiths gathered before the entrance to the Sammath Naur. Warily they probed the darkness within, sniffling, shifting their heads, seeking for scent or sound, their hoods tilting to and fro. All they perceived was't the stench of brimstone, the foul exhalations of the mountain, and the roaring from its molten core. Helluin watched them from where she knelt, halfway down the ramp that ended in Sauron's workplace high above the lake of fire. With uncertain tread they advanced, swords drawn, moving in a rough line across the breadth of walkway that precluded any escape.

Now Helluin had enjoyed ample time to explore while'st she awaited the ride of the Nine. Through the thickness of the volcano's wall a causeway led inward until it passed o'er a lake of lava. She had walked that ramp to its end. Thither in the heart of the Chamber of Fire stood a pier of stone, its top sheared off flat, whereupon Sauron conducted his dark sorceries and craft.

Thither accoutrements and paraphernalia of a great forge stood incongruously 'nigh the trappings of an altar. Many were the ceremonies and incantations to Morgoth that the Dark Lord had held in this place, and hither too he had forged his Ring. Hither had he formed himself a suit of armor and a black mace fashioned after Grond, his master's Hammer of the Underworld with which Morgoth had smote down the High King Fingolfin. Hither as well he had cemented the corruption of Celebrimbor's Nine and six of the Seven which he had captured, infusing them with his evil will and the dark fire he'd discovered in the mountain's heart. Many offerings of living victims had he made in this place, and though their bodies had long since been cast into the lava below, the manacles and chains of their captivity hung ever down from the far off heights of the volcano's summit.

In that place the heat had been stifling, the reek of fumes had burnt Helluin's throat, and the lingering aura of Darkness that lay o'er all had beat upon her _fëa _like an o'erwhelming wave. She could fairly hear the pounding of Sauron's hammer upon tortured steel, lain like an enemy to be broken upon an anvil in the shape of a Tor bent upon all fours, and her ears were assailed by the screams of sacrificed victims and the echoes of Sauron's incantations. With a great effort she had blocked it all out, reinforcing the spiritual barricade about her _fëa._ Helluin had retreated halfway back down the ramp towards the door, very near to where the wall's inner face rose up to the mountain's vent, and there set herself to make her opening stand.

Now the Úlairi advanced, still oblivious to her presence, but ever wary. They had remained in formation, blocking the width of the passage through the mountain's wall. Helluin had long since resheathed Anguirél and set the Sarchram upon her belt. She had doffed her cloak and her travel bag, and for the first time in centuries she had donned her _mithril_ hauberk. Now she took up her bow, and from her quiver knocked the first three of her white arrows, carefully keeping their _mithril_ heads concealed behind her armored knee. She watched the Ringwraiths advance step by uncertain step, and she willed them closer.

_Deliver thyselves unto me, O thou who art damned and doomed, for in this place shalt I constrain thee ere I send hence thy wretched spirits unto the Void. _

Perhaps 'twas some residual familiarity 'twixt the wraith who had once been Tindomul and Helluin that allowed the Lord of the Nazgûl to first sense Helluin's figure upon the ramp. Perhaps 'twas simply the fortune of his central position in their line and some flare of incandescence from the magma below. Yet for whatever reason, when the Nine were halfway 'twixt the door and where Helluin knelt he was't aware of her. In that moment he stiffened, rose full from his crouch, and let forth a shriek of warning and hate. The other eight started and cast their senses hence, and before them Helluin rose to her feet.

Yet the Nine see not with mortal vision, but rather with vision attuned to the world of shadows and the realm of the spirit. What they beheld arising before them was't not an Elven warrior in black armor, but rather a figure of terrible light, mighty in its power and blinding in its wrath. It loomed up, flaring bright with the hated Light of Aman that they could not withstand, and the sudden onset of that Holy Brilliance made them flinch back and cower. In the moment of their blindness none of them marked the three lesser points of light upon the arrowheads, or the bow that Helluin drew to give them flight.

Now later tales tell much of the fading wrought by the spells of _mórgúl_**¹** wounds and the accursed weapons that deliver them. Much too hath been said of Elven magic and the powers of the Eldar. In the flight of Helluin's arrows the two forces came against each other, and the dark powers of their master availed the Nazgûl 'naught, for the power that came of the Light of the Two Trees, the work of the Blessed Valier Yavanna, was't more potent than that of any fallen Maia.

**¹**(**mórgúl**, **_black magic_** **_mór_**(black) + **_gúl_**(magic) Sindarin)

Helluin's three arrows found their marks in the shrouded forms of the leftmost three of the Ringwraiths and the wounds they wrought were bitter. The Light of Aman was't as the most toxic venom of asp or viper to these damned who had once been Men. The Silmarils had suffered not the touch of any unclean spirit, and so the arrowheads forged of _mithril_, purest of metals, that had been illuminated by the _ril_ cast through the _palantír_ of Elostirion, burned the undead substance of the three Nazgûl. They fell as they would hath fallen had they been struck with Elven arrows while they were still living Men, and the touch of those arrows burned in their wounds with fire as it were a poison in their veins. Upon the rough stone of the causeway they shrieked and thrashed, rending their cloaks and crying out in anguish. Indeed Helluin hoped they would die forever, but rather they vanished, their naked spirits fled back to the Black Tower of their master, there to endure his scorn through long years of recuperation, and leaving behind but empty rags and withered arrows.

In a moment the remaining six wraiths recovered, and in a rage they charged. In the moments it took them to cross the distance 'twixt Helluin and themselves, she knocked and fired again, striking the phantasmal three upon the right. Ere Helluin could fire a third time, Tindomul and the two wraiths flanking him were upon her and she dropped her bow and drew the Sarchram and her sword.

Now oft aforetime had Helluin faced many enemies together, wielding her weapons against them in a fury; facing the three remaining Nazgûl was't no different. She had no time to enjoy the anguished throes of her fallen enemies or to rue their disappearance. She had not even a moment to count the loss of her bow and quiver when one of the last three kicked them off the ramp and onto the rocks above the lava below. All she could do was let her battle fury take her to that place of infinite determination and thoughtless courage, and she screamed _"Beltho Huiniath"_ as she hewed at them with Anguirél and the Grave Wing.

The Chambers of Fire rang with the clash of steel, Helluin's battle cry, and the shrieks of the Nazgûl. Despite being one fighting alone against three, Helluin drove them back step by step. The Ringwraiths could barely withstand the blinding flare of Light that marked her rage, and the Sarchram they feared as did their master. In their original lives, none had even come close to matching her prowess with weapons. Tindomul their lord had fallen easily by her hand. Ever the black blade Anguirél cried out for their lives and cursed them in its fell voice as it clove the air and met their own steel with shocking force. And no fear could their sorcery lay upon the spirit of so powerful an Amanya; not then, nor upon any day thereafter. They had already lost six of their company in the opening moments of combat. Indeed they realized that though they were the three most powerful of their kind, they would be fortunate to survive this contest at all.

Now Helluin indeed drove back her foes into the tunnel through the volcano's wall, and they, thinking now to flee and regroup, and thence to return upon some later day, turned to make for the door of the Sammath Naur. But Helluin had no intention of abetting their flight. Their master had fled her and she had chaffed ever after at his cowardice through half the years of the Second Age. Nay, she would accept not the withdrawal of the Nazgûl from this battlefield.

With a shout she flung the deadly Sarchram. The wraiths leapt aside at its passing, flinging themselves to the ground, while'st the Grave Wing ricocheted from wall to wall o'erhead. It flew on to shatter the roof of the passageway just inside the door with a cascade of sparks. Without conscious thought Helluin raised her hand to recapture the returning Ring, while'st the threshold collapsed in a ground shaking fall of boulders and a blinding cloud of dust. The way from the Sammath Naur was't sealed shut.

"Come'th thou in search of thy second fall, O Tindomul, accursed son of Númenor?" Helluin cried out, taunting the Lord of the Nazgûl as he reclaimed his feet. "And what of thee?' She chided, eyeing the other two, "Hath thou forfeited thy names in thy haste to serve thy craven lord as slaves?" She offered them a sneer.

"We hath come to take and bind thee, mórgolodh," said one of the two unknown to Helluin. "So say I, Khamûl, King of Samar'Khand!"

"An Easterling king of Khand thou may hath been upon a time, Khamûl, yet now thou art fallen into thralldom," Helluin spat. "Come thou hither and I shalt release thee from thy disgrace. And what of thou?" She demanded, turning her gaze upon the third of the Úlairi. Her eyes were kindled with blue fire.

The remaining Nazgûl said 'naught and merely watched her with sword held ready. _So, a shred of wisdom this one retains,_ Helluin thought, _offering nothing and partaking not of banter. _And thereafter she held a more equal regard for her third enemy.

And now Helluin stalked her foes, mocking and cursing them, fully intending to send their corrupted _fëar_ to the Void. Their combat continued and Helluin hewed mercilessly at her enemies, but the three wraiths spread out and fought defensively, one attacking and two relieving in turns, pressing only enough to remain engaged, and ever they shied from the Sarchram and the sizzling blue fire in her eyes. For her part, Helluin fought on tirelessly, lust of battle sustaining her more readily than food, drink, or rest. She locked completely her focus; her will directing her body without thought. 'Twas a place foreign to the Eldar, for no other amongst them had so closely embraced their wrath and then applied it to war craft. Here indeed was't the Helluin that the other Noldor feared.

Soon the count of time lost its meaning. Within the Fiery Mountain 'twas neither sun nor moon, nor day or night, no passing seasons nor cycling of years. All that mattered was't the clashing of steel and the sharpening of the senses. Helluin would fight until the End of Days or her own Fading should her enemies still face her. So long as they stood, she would seek to destroy them. And Tindomul/Murazor, Lord of the Nazgûl most of all did she seek to slay, to set thus at last to rights forever the birth of his service 'neath Sauron which had been accomplished at Pelargir by her hand.

Slowly, with the prolonging of the combat, all parties came to delve the souls of the others as only lovers and deadly enemies can, and Helluin, in some corner of her mind, marked the heightened grace and lesser power of the third Nazgûl, the one who had said 'naught to her, and on some level she came to a realization. The third in charge of the Úlairi had once been a woman! Whether a dark sorceress, pitiless queen, or fearsome warrior, Helluin might never know, yet already she had learnt more of her enemies than any amongst the Wise. As it were in another world far removed from Arda's trials and tribulations, the battle within Mt. Doom continued, while'st outside in the lands of Gondor, Rhovanion, and Mordor, the War of the Last Alliance raged on.

**To Be Continued**


	69. In An Age Before Chapter 69

**In An Age Before – Part 69

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**

**Chapter Forty-five**

_**The Battle of Dagorlad - The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now as hast been told aforetime, by 14 Gwirith, (April 14th), Mordor lay emptied and the last of the Host of Sauron had marched from the Cirith Gorgor, quitting Udûn and issuing from the _Morannon_, the Black Gate of Mordor. Thence they marched due north ten leagues ere they broke into companies to execute their orders; _lay waste to the farmlands and homesteads east of Anduin and slay all thou find south of Greenwood._

For forty days and forty nights the minions of the Dark Lord wrought destruction in those lands, and field and orchard, pasture and vineyard withered 'neath their evil. Any unlucky enough to be caught were put to death cruelly for the sport of the Yrch and the Southrons and the Easterlings. No few became meals afterwards. Little treasure did the invaders find, and knowing there would be no satisfactory pillage, Sauron had unfettered his troops to rampage, thereby to satisfy their malice and frustration. The green fields thither were soon soaked in blood and neither beast nor plant was't spared. Fires raged 'cross field and orchard, killing every growing thing down to seeds and roots. Though worsted more than once aforetime, that fair country was't forever blighted in those days and earned afterwards the name, the Brown Lands. 'Twas 25 Lothron, (May 25th) ere the Host of Sauron regrouped and prepared to march upon Greenwood.

During that same time the Host of Eriador had met the last of their allies upon 16 Lothron, when upon Anduin 'nigh Celebrant the Host of Khazad-dûm marched south. Thereafter the allies marched another 40 leagues, having turned east-southeast to skirt the southern border of Calenglad i'Dhaer.

Upon 25 Lothron the Allied Hosts met, for the Naugrim and the armies of Eriador awaited the Nandor of Greenwood and Lórinand north of the folded lands of the downs. Thither for the first time were all gathered together; 27,000 Noldor and Sindar, 100,000 Dúnedain, 26,000 Nandor of Calenglad, 6,000 more from Lórinand, and 65,000 Khazâd; all told, a combined host of 224,000 warriors.

Now ere their first day they had marked the flight of many terrified refugees who had escaped the destruction of the enemy to the south. Many tidings were spoken and much information gathered. Scouts were sent forth amongst the downs and 'nigh the river to spy out the movements of the enemy. When they reported, it became known that the Glamhoth and their allies were closer than expected, still somewhat scattered, and preparing to move north en mass. It appeared that an invasion of Greenwood was't only days away.

Now these tidings filled King Oropher with wrath, and indeed the people of King Amdír too were seized with hatred of the enemy so that they joined their Nandor brethren and prepared to march upon their foes whether the rest of the allies followed or not. They placed themselves with the rough lands on their right flank, intending to drive their foes away from Anduin and into the desolation they had wrought in the south. Thereafter, the Nandor held the western flank.

Seeing the wrath of the Nandor and agreeing with their intent for tactical rather than emotional reasons, the Kings Gil-galad and Elendil and Durin chose to array themselves in support of Amdír and Oropher. They too had a plan, though 'twas wrought with calmer heads and an eye for the coming battles.

"O Kings of Men and Elves, I pray thee accept my intent to march upon thy eastern flank," Durin IV said, "for 'tis my suspicion that from that quarter shalt come enemies from other mansions of the Khazâd. I hath of thy subject Helluin, learnt fell tidings concerning the possible service of two houses of the Naugrim to Sauron, for we suspect he hast gifted them with two of the Seven of Lord Celebrimbor."

At this, Gil-galad groaned. Of course some fell tidings had come of Helluin. He shook his head at the predictability of it. Elendil shuddered at the thought of other Dwarves enthralled by the Dark Lord and subject to the power of his Ring. Both kings readily agreed with Durin's desire. Besides, t'would provide the greatest separation 'twixt the Naugrim and the Nandor, for though they were allies of Lórinand, there had ever been cool relations 'twixt them and those in Greenwood.

"I deem t'would indeed be best for thou to face such of thy folk as hath cloven unto the Dark Lord, for we intend nothing less than to face the many Men he hast drawn to his service," Elendil told Durin. He had no desire to face Dwarves fallen under the sorceries of Sauron. Indeed he hoped rather to lay low the host of the "Black Númenóreans", that remnant of the King's Men of yore who still sought to serve Sauron.

"Hold then the eastern flank, O Durin, for t'would seem the Nandor hath claimed the west leaving to the Host of Eriador the center. Greatly shalt thy stalwart presence upon my left reassure me," Gil-galad said. He looked out and surveyed the assembled armies. "Let us now order ourselves for the march to battle on the morrow."

Upon 27 Lothron the Host of the Alliance marched south into the devastated lands, and 'cross a distance of but six leagues, marked the rising dust of a host marching north. The sight of the enemy at last hastened the feet of the allied armies, but wrought the opposite effect upon the Host of Sauron. Indeed toward midday, when the distance betwixt them had fallen to but three leagues, the Glamhoth and the Tor, the Wargs and the Haradrim, the Easterlings and the Black Númenóreans, all ceased their forward march. Their banners halted their progress and the cloud of dust behind them settled. For the space of well 'nigh an hour they held their position. The Alliance continued forward to meet them, their many banners waving, the flashes of light upon their armor twinkling as upon gems 'neath the sun. And then the Host of Sauron moved.

From the Allied Armies a great shout went up, for it had become apparent that their enemies were fleeing them! They were marching south in haste, seeking the safety of the Black Land for to cower behind their mountains and their master's Black Gate. Faster did the Men and Elves and Dwarves march, seeking to catch them upon the open lands and avoid a long and deadly siege of a position heavily fortified against them. And as they passed through the ruined lands their wrath grew. The destruction their enemies had wrought kindled their hatred and anger. They marched faster. But heavily armed and laden Dwarves can march only so fast, and compared to the longer legs of Elves and Men, the Host of Durin began to fall behind. Still all continued, grimly and with determination, to catch and corner their foes, and to force them to battle. As the day's light waned, Elendil and Gil-galad deemed their position but two and a half leagues behind their foes; they were closing, but only slowly.

By nightfall both armies had marched almost nine leagues in one day. 'Twas tiring, and slow was't their gain upon their enemies. The kings feared their soldiers would catch the rearguard of the Glamhoth and arrive too spent to fight. T'would never do to continue thus, for at the present rate, t'would take another four or five days to close the gap.

"How close should we seek to march ere we halt them?" Elendil asked Gil-galad at that night's planning session.

"How long can'st thy troops march post haste yet retain strength to fight?" The Elven King asked in response. The King of Arnor thought for a moment.

"Already many art weary from this day's march, and though they shalt strive to maintain the pace, it shalt wear upon them, leaving them the less ready for battle," Elendil said. "It shalt do us little enough good to catch yonder vermin, if when we do, we art not fit to exterminate them. Either we continue thus but rest ere offering battle, or slack somewhat our pace. What of thy soldiers, Lord Durin?"

"I tell thou both that my people shalt march until death takes them, yet they shalt fall yet further behind thy troops on the morrow," Durin IV unhappily confessed. "Our strength is wasted cross country. We cannot maintain this pace, but our engineers and miners can assail to good results the Morannon of Sauron. Rather would we undertake a siege than hath our enemies turn upon us when we art already exhausted by the march. Rather would we save our strength for battle."

To this Gil-glad and Elendil nodded. They had watched the progress of the Naugrim through the day and had marked the flagging of the Host of Khazad-dûm.

"Allow the Hosts of the Eldar and the Edain to pursue hence the enemy through another two days. When upon the third day their host lies but one league ahead, then shalt we send forth our cavalry to flank and stay their march. We shalt hold them an hour or two until our infantry arrives, taking up our positions for battle, but commencing it not until thy forces arrive and all art rested," Elendil said. "In so doing also shalt our own supply train rejoin the warriors."

"Aye, we shalt attack with all our parties and all our strength together," Gil-galad added. "Thou shalt hath thy battle in thy time, O Durin, and let Sauron's thralls learn to fear the axes of the Khazâd."

To the words of the High King of the Eldar, the King of Khazad-dûm bowed his head in thanks.

"Greatly shalt they come to fear our axes indeed, and yet too, I suspect the tactics of the fallen of our own kindred," Durin said. "I feel they shalt reveal themselves only when battle comes. We hath seen 'naught of any Gonnhirrim in that host, yet I expect them still. When they show hence their forces, we shalt avenge all to whom they hath done ill in the Dark Lord's service. My warriors feel it their duty unto Mahal."

To this sentiment both the high kings nodded in agreement. For Ereinion especially, the final defeat of Sauron would bring the final completion of the War of Wrath waged by the Valar an Age before.

'Twas 'nigh noon upon 30 Lothron when the order went forth from Gil-galad and Elendil that the retreat of the Host of Sauron should be stayed. The allies were now but 65 miles north of the Morannon with the enemy two miles ahead. In response, 16,000 horsemen of the Eldar and the Edain charged forward, thundering past their own infantry and plunging towards the soldiers of Mordor. The cloud of dust from their hooves rose to the heavens and hid all ahead from the sight of the kings

Sauron's troops reacted almost instantly. They picked up their pace and fled in a rout, their figures diminishing rapidly before the footmen of the alliance. Yet they could not outpace the cavalry.

Barely an hour passed from the start of their charge ere the flanks of the enemy host were bracketed by riders of Lindon and Arnor. Riding just beyond bowshot, the knights of Eriador galloped past the ranks of running foes, and finally, at just past the second hour, they began to pull in their files ahead of them. Even beyond the reach of the arrows of the Yrch and evil Men, the riders could hear the yelling and cursing and their guttural Black Speech. They could see the pushing and shoving amidst the fleeing ranks. The enemy ran as if the whips of slave drivers lashed their backs and their master's fires sprang up 'neath their feet, yet their flight was't for 'naught. In the third hour of their charge, the cavalry completed their dangerous cordon about the host of their enemies, and although they kept moving forward, now they slowed and gradually brought the flight to a halt. By nightfall of 30 Lothron the Host of Sauron stood still upon the flatlands east of the great swamps, and there they could proceed no further. Any movement south now brought a hail of arrows from the bows of the Eldar or the Edain.

The most forward of the Glamhoth were still 55 miles from the Black Gate. The remainder of their allies, Tor and Easterling, the Haradrim, and the armies of the Black Númenóreans, Herumor and Fuinur, all collected and assembled behind them. They would not win home to Udûn this day.

Now night fell and the cavalry set many watch fires about their perimeter, and 'twas a strange duty, for they sought to guard not against any coming upon them from without, but rather to contain from escape, any within their leaguer. As they waited they counted their foes and deemed their strength great, yet not so great as their own. When the battle opened, perhaps 145,000 would oppose them.

Thus they awaited the marshalling of the allied hosts to their north, and these had arrived through the afternoon and evening hours, arraying themselves as they had agreed aforetime, Nandor to the west, Noldor, Sindar, and Edain in the center, and as the last light of evening fell, huffing and puffing and well 'nigh ready to collapse, the Naugrim encamped upon the eastern flank.

Elendil and Gil-galad and Durin set about making ready for battle. They rested their forces from the march and ordered their companies, and they discussed the tactics for their attack. For two days they waited while letting their enemies wait on them, unable to break the cordon of the cavalry and yet unwilling to offer battle on their own part.

Upon the western flank Kings Oropher and Amroth arrayed their forces such that no enemy could pass them save by venturing into the vast swamps south of the Emyn Muil, and thus relieved the cavalry from that duty. Likewise to the east, the Khazâd held positions denying the enemy flight thither, yet their watch was't as much upon the barren flatlands to their east as well as to the enemy host to their south and west. Ever did they searched the horizon for some telltale rising of dust that would signify the march of the Naugrim of the Ered Lithui.

When Arien carried Anor aloft on 3 Nórui, (June 3rd), a fanfare of silver trumpets greeted the brightening light of dawn and the cavalry of Arnor and Lindon let fly volleys of arrows into Sauron's Host, driving them to tighten their massed ranks and draw closer to the Allied Host arrayed before them. For two full days the enemy had offered no combat. Now the signal had come and they would be driven to war. The hard, dry ground thundered 'neath the hooves of the riders. Great clouds of dust rose from that milling throng out of which came flight after flight of deadly shafts. And when that cloud lay so thick upon the battle plain that 'naught could be seen to the south, the horsemen of Lindon and Arnor galloped east and then north to rejoin their hosts for the opening charge to come.

Now when the riders returned to their hosts they took their places in the vanguards of their respective armies, spearheading the massed ranks of infantry. Across but a furlong of desolate land stood the jostling and disordered lines of the enemy. They constituted more of a mob than an ordered host, for little more than the promise of plunder and mayhem and the fear of their lord held most of them together.

Most numerous were the Yrch, for many had come into Sauron's service after his return from the wreck of Númenor and yet more had he bred to his service. They congregated primarily in the western part of the host, choosing thus to face the Nandor rather than the Sindar and Noldor, for amongst the Elves of Light and the Grey Elves were many fell fighters, veterans of Beleriand and Eriador, and many who were mantled in the Light of Aman. There too stood the Dúnedain by whom they had been worsted in the last great war.

Never would an Orch willingly face such foes, for in their hearts lay a hereditary cowardice that made them seek for the weakest opposition. Amongst them stood bands of Tor, also hereditary servants of the Dark Lord, having little will of their own but an immense capacity for violence. Their native stature and strength made them dangerous adversaries. Yet both these cadres, while still held thrall by their master's power, felt not the direction of his will; his eye and presence had been absent from them for some time. They felt a nagging sense of uncertainty and abandonment in his lack of attention to their plight. And wherefore had gone his Nazgûl? Though they chilled the bones of all the host, they were the most fell enemies of their enemies. Their presence would hath been welcome now, facing thus the Host of the Alliance.

Toward the center and on the eastern flank of the enemy host congregated the Men of the East and the Men of the South, soldiers from the tributary lands of Rhûn, Khand, and Harad, who worshipped Sauron as a god as much as served him as a lord. Countless generations of their kind had knelt before Sauron, and in the dimmest memories of their cultures, recalled their service to the mythical Great Master, Morgoth, Lord of Creation and Lord of Shadows, to whom their own god offered blood sacrifices.

In the centermost ranks of the Host of Sauron stood the two armies of the Black Númenóreans, Herumor and Fuinur, the generals who had marched from the Realm of Umbar. Together their forces numbered 30,000, and they were the finest warriors in the service of the Black Land. These soldiers, scions of the King's Men of Númenor, descended from those who had ruled and served at the Haven of Umbar 'neath Ar-Pharazôn the Golden. They recalled their lost glory and chaffed ever at their diminished status in Middle Earth. They despised the Eldar as they long had, and hated the Men of Gondor and Arnor even more, and they had willingly sought the chance to slay them in the name of the Dark Lord who had commanded the reverence of their lost king. These fighters would face the Hosts of Arnor and Lindon, and all amongst them prayed for the chance to slay some lord or captain of those peoples, or perchance even their kings. Their grievance came across time and the sea, and they hated their brothers from their fallen island homeland more vehemently than any Orch. And unlike the Glamhoth, they were filled with courage and feared to face none.

"Too long hath we abided the rabble of Lindon and Andunië," cried Herumor to his troops, "too long hath we awaited the day when we would take back our place as rulers of Men. Let us now to battle! Death to the usurpers! When Arnor and Gondor lie ruined in the dust, then shalt we be as kings upon these Hither Shores. With counsel and support of our Lord Sauron shalt we rule as did Ar-Pharazôn aforetime. Though Númenor is fallen by the deceits of the Valar, hither might we reclaim by our own hands our former glory!"

A great cheer rose from the Black Númenóreans of Umbar, while some grumbling of resentment rose amidst the Men of Harad, Khand, and Rhûn.

Then Fuinur eyed the Yrch, milling uncertainly and uncomfortable in the growing light, and a dark glint came into his eyes, for he ever suspected these of cowardice.

"If thou think to betray us and thy master's cause for to save thine own lives, then think again and hard," Fuinur said, looking the commander of the Glamhoth directly in the eyes so that he shivered. "If thou or those 'neath thy command should betray us or flee, pray then for our deaths, for only thus shalt thou win thy freedom from our blades to face the wrath of thy lord, Sauron. Thou can'st either fight, die by our vengeance, or die by the wrath of thy master. Thou art mortal as art we; choose to die with such honor as thou art capable of, for die thou shalt, either quickly and with glory or in slow torment."

Again a great shout of agreement came from the Black Númenóreans and it chilled the Yrch to the bones. Though they cared 'naught for honor or glory, they feared most the wrath of those closest to them, it being the quickest to fall. They would fight this day.

Now the battle long awaited commenced with a sounding of trumpets and horns, and with a great shout, the Allied Host advanced. Against them came the Host of Sauron, fearing to face their master's wrath should they turn tail. O'er head Anor shone down bright as with a blessing, heating the air on that morning and lighting the drawing of swords with scintillating highlights as of sunlight sparkling upon sea waves 'cross that barren land. Hooves beat like thunder. Feet tramped as a tremor in the very earth. Dust rose like the smoke of a fire taking to heaven in its flames all the trees of a great forest. And when the lines clashed, 'twas like a cataclysm in which the earth shakes and splits asunder. Yet o'er all else was't heard the battle cries, the cheers, and the screams of the wounded and dying.

The battle raged all through the day and into the night. Fierce was't the fighting on all quarters. When the cavalry of Lindon and Arnor charged, the Men of Umbar met them and many fell in those first moments, yet enough remained standing to offer vicious battle as the infantry of the west came up behind their horsemen.

Upon the eastern flank, Oropher and Amdír assailed their foes first with showers of arrows uncounted, and the Glam quailed 'neath their shields. Yet most indeed survived the volleys unscathed, and when the horns of the Nandor sounded the charge, they were met by a great many Yrch goaded to bloodlust by the fear of their allies and the whips of their commanders.

Now the Host of Greenwood numbered 26,000, and the army of Lórinand 6,000 more, mostly archers lightly armed, while the Glamhoth counted o'er 52,000 Yrch long at war and trained in grueling hardship upon the Plain of Gorgoroth, and ever had they hated all of Elven kind. Therefore when the Nandor charged them, they pretended to give way at first, shying somewhat to the east and allowing a hollow to form in the center of their line. Thither the Nandor of Greenwood concentrated their assault, wielding their pikes and spears and their few swords. Upon the rightmost flank stood the warriors of Lórinand, still firing into the Glamhoth. Indeed they did much damage to those who faced them, yet they were vastly outnumbered. Then a bugle brayed harsh in the afternoon air and the Yrch counterattacked with fury.

The centermost wing of the Glamhoth advanced, driving a wedge betwixt the Host of Greenwood and the armies of Lindon and Arnor, and these were fully engaged against the Men of the south and east and the Black Númenóreans of Umbar. The Yrch pressed forward, isolating the Nandor upon the western flank. Worse, the western wing of the Glamhoth drove forward too, separating the army of Lórinand from that of Greenwood.

With them came many Tor, swinging great maces that rent bodies and sent their corpses to flight. None could withstand their onslaught. In the closer press of fighting, the Nandor of the Golden Wood could but give way. They were 6,000 against almost 20,000, fighting with knives and a few short swords against the blood crazed rabble of Mordor who carried everything from pikes to clubs to swords. In close combat the Yrch held a massive advantage, and outnumbered, the warriors of Lórinand could only retreat. Back they were forced, desperate and alone, watching as far to their left, King Oropher's standard was hewn down and his household engulfed amidst a press of enemies.

Now behind the retreating Eldar lay 'naught but the swamps, and into these they were driven by the late afternoon. Then the Yrch hunted them down as they fought, mired in mud and tangled in weeds, and always the Elves were pitted one against three of their enemies. Soon arrows were few, and their long knives or few swords were no match for the spears and scimitars of the Yrch. There fell well 'nigh half the archers of the Golden Wood, and their king not the last. Ere the Yrch gave up the chase, they had broken the power of the Nandor and worsted their hosts.

Like too fared the Host of Greenwood, well nigh encircled by the Glam and Tor. There 26,000 faced 32,000 foes, but as with their brethren of the Golden Wood, they were ill equipped for close quarters battle. Too, they had, for all their drilling aforetime, no practical battle hardening as did the Host of Mordor. They were not fighters at heart. Inferior numbers and inferior tactics and inferior weapons combined to leave them worsted by their enemies. Slowly but surely the Glamhoth pared away at their numbers, hewed down their captains, and slew their soldiers. And when, early in the battle, they managed to surround and engulf the king's standard and household, the morale of the Silvan Elves broke and horror reigned amongst them.

Seeing the fall of Oropher's standard broke the heart of the Nandor. Thereafter they fought with desperation but little inspiration, and none remaining to command them knew 'aught of tactics. None called a retreat, none called to regroup, and none called to stand fast and hold the line. Instead they crowded together without order, pike men sometimes trapped in the center, archers at the fore, and the relentless foe slew them in droves. By nightfall, o'er 13,000 lay slain upon the Battle Plain.

Yet strange was't the fate of the King of Greenwood that day, for in the aftermath of the battle he was't discovered, blooded, wounded, and unconscious 'neath a heap of his own slain warriors. He was't returned to the healers and awoke the next day fey and wroth, fairly foaming at the mouth for vengeance. But his seeming resurrection from the dead emboldened his remaining forces, though little good did it achieved in the end.

Better went the battle in the center and upon the western flank. There the Hosts of Lindon and Arnor crushed the Men of Harad and Khand and Rhûn. But the grimmest hatred amongst the Dúnedain was't reserved for their fallen brethren of Númenor. Long had the King's Men of old disrespected the Faithful. Long had they oppressed those of Andunië and Romenna, for in their continued reverence for the West the King's Men saw treason against their king. That the Faithful held the king a blasphemer against the Valar only proved their point and justified the actions taken against them. With the mutual antipathy present upon the Isle of Kings, 'twas a wonder that greater violence and mortal persecution was't for the most part avoided, yet even at the end, Kinslaying had been held a taboo broken most oft only in selecting the sacrifices for Sauron's altar.

When the lines clashed, the Black Númenóreans sought ever to engage those of the House of Andunië, their chief enemies from o'er the sea. Yet in the years ere the fall of Númenor, and even more so in the years thereafter, the remnant of the King's Men had forgotten how great a captain of ships and Men had been Amandil. Perhaps too, they had forgotten that even at the end, Ar-Pharazôn had not executed the Man who had been his childhood friend and closest advisor ere the coming of Sauron. That nobility and courage had passed on in full measure to his son, Elendil. At Dagorlad, many of the warriors of Umbar fell 'neath the deadly sword of the High King of Arnor, for Narsil's bright steel, wrought well 'nigh two Ages aforetime by Telchar of Nogrod, flashed with a light all its own, and in his mighty hand it hewed flesh and mail with equal ease.

So too did the Men of Umbar underestimate the courage and battle prowess of Isildur the High King's elder son. None knew of his sojourn to the Court of the King before the Citadel of Elros in Armenelos, where the Heir of the last Lord of Andunië had taken the fruit of Nimloth and thus preserved the White Tree of Númenor. Bitter was't his swordplay; and many were they who fell, blooded by the point of his sword.

All about the King fought many of noble birth, gallant sons of noble houses from o'er the sea. But for the avarice and lust of those whom they faced that day, their blessed home across the waves would still hath been fair and green. Such Men as these arrayed against them had followed and by their following emboldened their king upon his path to damnation. And even after all that, still they chose to follow Sauron!

And ill-advised as was't the waging of war against the Host of Arnor, even worse was't their opposition of the Host of Lindon. Indeed it had been generations since any of the King's Men had met any of the Elder Kindred. Elves had been long banned from Númenor and had come not to their havens upon the Hither Shores. Nor had the King's Men come to Lindon or Edhellond in Belfalas. For centuries they had regarded the Elves as little more than the spies of the Valar and few gave credence to the old tales of their prowess in the prior war. Indeed if any thought of those days at all, they reveled in self-congratulation, for by the might of Númenor had the tide of Sauron been turned back and defeated. Yet now they came again to battle with the Noldor and Sindar, but this time opposing them rather than as allies.

Little time did it take for the Younger Children of the One to rue their stance. Matching swords against warriors who had lived for millennia was't a monumental disadvantage. What mastery or prowess a Man might gain in a mortal life was't as nothing before the skills learnt o'er Ages. Both Sindar and Noldor were supernaturally proficient with the bow, yet they had no lack of arms or willingness to close ranks with their mortal foes.

The Sindar smote them with long, curved blades, wielded with an inhuman grace and appalling speed, and ever they seemed able to predict the next move a foe would make. Worse yet were the Noldor, whom long ago in lore and lay had been called the _Valiant_ and the_ Sword-Elves_**¹. **Though fewer in numbers, these held a terrifying and unnatural light in their eyes which flared in their passion as they hewed down their enemies with flashing blades both straight and curved. In speed and grace they were much like the Sindar but even more deadly. Many of their blades held enchantments and spells. Their mail and lamellar armor and the helms upon their heads were forged of the hardest steel, tempered to adamant, and yet flexible as silk. And many bore strangely shaped shields, light in weight but with wicked points and edges that they used as auxiliary weapons.

**¹**(**Valiant **and the **Sword-Elves, **additional epithets for the Noldor. _HoME_, Vol 5, _QS_, Footnote, pg 236)

Now though later tales tell little of the Host of Khazad-dûm, no little renown did that host win upon that day, for at first they fought fiercely against Sauron's western flank, and their cries of _Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!_**¹** rang o'er the clash of their axes and the thud of battered flesh. More so than any other host, the warriors of Durin fought as a disciplined group, maintaining their ranks and files, and advancing relentlessly into their opposition. Their blows fell like those of a smith, ceaseless at his anvil, shaping hot metal with endless hammer strokes. Before them the Men of Harad fell back, too poorly organized to take advantage of their greater strength or size, or to break in amongst the lines of the Dwarves though they stood spaced open to allow swinging room for their two-handed axes. Few Men guarded well their legs or wore greaves stout enough to turn an axe stroke, and so many had their legs hewn out from under them.

**¹**(**Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu, _Axes of the Dwarves! The Dwarves are upon you!_** Traditional battle cry of the Naugrim. Khuzdul)

Now at the third hour of the battle, a cloud of dust rose in the east, and 'twas quickly noticed for it had been expected. Durin's folk gauged the distance no more than a league, and so they accounted an hour until the warriors of some mansion in the Ered Lithui came 'nigh to offer battle. Some made derisive remarks about 'wet boots' and 'night walkers' for only by soaking their footwear and marching at night they could hath approached so close without raising dust or being marked.

"Slay all thou can in an hour of the sun," Durin IV commanded, "for thereafter half our host shalt turn to face these laggards."

The Dwarves chuckled and swung faster their axes. More Southrons fell. The battle cry of the Dwarves rang out and heartened their allies, and soon they knew, t'would carry to their oncoming foe as swell.

Now when indeed those foes came 'nigh and engaged the Naugrim of Khazad-dûm, Durin and many of his captains had contrived to place themselves foremost to meet them. _A Ringwearer of our kindred_, Durin IV had thought, _by the likes of him doth our people garner the distrust of strangers. I should smite him with joy for siding with our enemy who was a servant of Melkor, the great enemy of our creator. A traitor to Mahal he is!_ Many of his officers thought likewise and their hatred was't kindled anew.

Now the clashing of axes hast a distinctive sound, a heavier and duller thud than the ringing of blades or the ping of a spear point piercing plate. That sound carried across the field at a furious pace as host contested with host, for in such a matching of arms, the speed of the strikes and the number of blows struck can oft determine supremacy.

For some time it appeared that there was't no movement upon that front. The lines held firm and both hosts planted their feet and swung. But slowly as the battle dragged on, as the front line retired and was't replaced by fresh troops from the ranks behind, the superior numbers of the Host of Khazad-dûm began to tell. By the third rotation at the front, the Dwarves of the Ered Lithui began to fall. They had simply been tired out by the relentless fighting and having to return to the front line more oft than their foes. And at last the battle line began to move.

Now step by step the line moved east. The 'wet boots' fell in increasing numbers, and as their numbers fell, all the more frequently were the survivors forced into the front line. 'Twas an accelerating war of attrition. By the third hour the retreat of the Host of the Ered Lithui was't hastening, and then at the next change of lines, the Host of Durin gave a great shout and charged forward. A rank fresh and unfought took the battle line against foes who had battled for three hours in the afternoon heat. They swung their axes well 'nigh twice as fast as their foes, and with the quick decimation of that front line, hewed their way into the even more tired ranks behind. Thus the slaughter began. Soon the Khazâd of the Hithaeglir were trotting after winded foes and hewing their legs as they fled. But at the scene where the lines had broken, a duel was't being fought, and 'twas soon encircled amidst the fighters of Khazad-dûm.

There Durin IV fought and o'ercame his enemy in single combat, his mastery of his weapon far outstripping any strength given his foe by Sauron's Ring, for the virtue it provided to the King of the Ered Lithui garnered him not battle prowess, but a hoard of gold, and upon the Plain of Dagorlad, gold availed him 'naught. With a great cry, Durin swung his double-bladed axe and hewed off his enemy's hands, and they fell betwixt the combatants still clutching his axe. Then Durin cursed his defeated foe as a traitor and slew him, hewing off his head in a single mighty stroke. His Ring, one of the Seven of Celebrimbor, was't taken to a forge and heated in the fire of the armoror, and though the enchanted gold melted not, neither was't it invulnerable, for indeed it had been forged by Celebrimbor in Eregion, not by Sauron in Mt. Doom. Thus its gem was't shattered and the shards ground to powder, and the gold of its band was't beaten into a planchet, and thence into flakes, and these the Lord of Khazad-dûm flung to the desiccating winds of Dagorlad with curses.

**To Be Continued**


	70. In An Age Before Chapter 70

**In An Age Before – Part 70**

_**Note: **to Eol's Fangirl; thanks for your comments; you're right and I apologize for making the Dwarves seem like munchkins, lol. It's all too easy to recall the visuals from Peter Jackson's movie and see them as about 4 1/2 feet tall. Indeed they could have hewn off Men's heads as well as chopping at their legs, but amongst common men-at-arms, the legs were often less well armored and more poorly guarded and would make a good target for an attacker of any height. As for their marching ability, in a fast paced march, while laden with packs and weapons as heavy infantry, (and I don't recall ever reading of them employing carts or beasts of burden in support trains for their armies), a person of short stature willinvariably be at a disadvantage in covering distances when compared to "tall Men" of Numenorean descent and Elves. Being short myself, I recall this distinctly from going out for cross-country and track. (As it ended up, I was better at gymnastics). _**

* * *

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**Chapter Forty-six**

_**The Morannon and the Invasion of Mordor – The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now it came to pass that as the Host of the Last Alliance regrouped following their victory upon Dagorlad and they tallied the tales of the fallen and the woe of the Nandor, their foemen fled south and passed within the Morannon and thence to Udûn in shame. A great count of their strength they had lost, no less than half their numbers, and yet a host of well 'nigh 72,000 they still were. And within the Black Tower there remained yet unfought, Sauron's personal retainers, gaolers and torturers, and the companies of guards of the Barad-dúr.

Upon the slopes of Ithilien the once Guardians of Lebennin, now the Rangers of Ithilien commanded by Beinvír, spied upon the Black Land from the heights of the Ephel Duath, and they waylaid any such of the enemy's soldiers who sought to pass through that land. But Beinvír was't little content with such duties, for ever her heart and her sight turned to the fuming mount upon the blasted heartland of Gorgoroth, wherein her spirit told her that her beloved fought.

In addition to this, no victory would her forces gain in Ithilien so long as Minas Ithil was't still held by the enemy. Indeed King Anárion chaffed to assail the Black Land, to lead hence the armies of Gondor, for word had come to him of the march of the Host of the Last Alliance. But Beinvír prevailed upon him and counseled him to patience, and together they planned first the liberation of his brother's fallen city.

"No foray upon the Black Land shalt be prudent while'st still an enemy in strength remains unfought at thy back, O King," the Green Elf had said. "Great is the Host that shalt shortly come against Mordor. Hither, in thy lands art still many foes, the more threatening for being closer to thy home. Let us first be rid of them, and thereafter join to the Host such of our forces as can be spared from the safe keeping of Gondor."

"Thy words hold truth, Beinvír Laiquende, and at heart I hath known it," Anarion admitted, "yet ever do I crave to strike some blow against he who hath so wronged my people. Very well, I shalt be patient. A year or two it may take, yet to the liberation of Minas Ithil we shalt turn ere striking against the Dark Lord on behalf of the southern realm."

So thus through the campaigning season of 3434 the Rangers sought to clear the lands of all foes, and when they had done thus at last and set a leaguer about the Ithil Vale, winter was't come upon them and they repaired to their encampments until spring. Well did they know that those holding the city would be resupplied by the high pass through which the first assaults had come, and from the stream of Imlad Ithil, Valley of the Moon, their foes would quench their thirst. Still there was't 'naught to be done save to ensure that through the cold months of winter none came forth in sortie against the forces of Gondor, nor came by the roads of Ithilien to their relief.

In the deepest months of frost, when none moved upon the front in Ithilien, Beinvír took herself again to the hidden refuge of Henneth Annûn, and there laid herself down before the window in the falls, recalling happier days. And in those moments of solitude, oft did she stare at the clear gem of the Hithaeglir in the band about her finger, and thence her _fëa_ sought that of her beloved. In those times she knew, by the grace of the connection that they shared, that Helluin battled on without rest, ever seeking the victory she could almost taste, yet which ever eluded her.

Now while'st all these things went forth, Helluin's battle against the three chiefs of the Úlairi continued within Orodruin. Day after day their combat they waged, the clash of blades ceaseless in that hollow place bereft of sun and moon. Helluin was't possessed with an o'erwhelming imperative to destroy once and for all these most fell servants of her sworn enemy. She fought with an intensity as great as any she had ever felt. Nothing mattered save the stroke that found its mark, and day after day, week after week, she sought to land such a blow.

For their part the Úlairi fought with a grim determination to survive. They knew Helluin sought no less than their final destruction, whereas they had been commanded to capture her alive and bring her thence to the Barad-dúr. Their master would accept no disobedience in this. They had not Sauron's leave to slay her even if they could. And with Helluin there could be no parlay and there would be no quarter. They were disadvantaged in too many ways to prevail and they knew it. Long had they held themselves the most terrible of creatures and long had they reveled in their master's gifts of power. Yet now their powers availed them 'naught and such thoughts as they had entertained of victory had long ago fled. Now they fought instead for their very existence.

'Cross the miles 'twixt Orodruin and Barad-dúr Sauron kept watch o'er the progress of his servants. Already six had fled hither and he had greeted them with derision and relegated them to the shadows wherein they could recoup their strength, yet t'would be decades ere they healed from the bitter wounds of Helluin's arrows. Grudgingly he accorded her a measure of respect for the tactic. Indeed he shivered at the thought of bearing such wounds himself. From the safety of his chamber he exerted the power of his Ring in favor of his three remaining Úlairi, yet it served only to bring them near parity and prolong the fight. Even he could now see that they had no chance of prevailing. But he could tear not his eyes from the whirlwind of the conflict. For long it captivated him. All else was't forgotten; his host in Rhovanion, the doings of Anárion in Gondor, even his ruminations upon his eventual victory. He never even harkened to the sounds of the battle upon Dagorlad. But at last the aftermath abruptly demanded his attention.

In his tower of Barad-dúr the Dark Lord Sauron was't wrenched from his preoccupation with the combat inside the fiery mount, for returning thence to his lands in defeat came the host he had sent forth unto Rhovanion. Thither they had been ordered, to lay waste to all the lands 'twixt the Morannon and Greenwood, thence to conquer that sylvan fastness and enslave all the Elven folk within. Yet instead he heard now, 'cross the desolation of Gorgoroth, not the boasts and bragging of victors nor the cheers of a host returning triumphant, but rather the wails of dismay, the impotent curses, and the whimpering of the wounded as they fled back to the Black Land.

Sauron was't at first as much amazed as wroth. He had been shown the measure of those who would oppose his host. He had been gifted a vision, seized from the very mind of his enemy; that same enemy who now challenged his Úlairi in the heart of his realm.

It took him but a moment longer to realize that somehow Helluin had tricked him. That the vision he had snatched from her through the _palantír_ of Angrenost had somehow been false. He perceived not how it had been done, but he acknowledged the truth of her deception. False information she had fed him, and believing the weakness of his enemies that he had seen in her mind, he had sent forth his troops to their slaughter. His scream of rage shook the very foundations of Barad-dúr. For this he had given pause and respite to his enemies in Gondor? And what of the battle thither?

With a vicious casting forth of his power he surveyed the western front and shook yet the more in anger. His forces 'twixt Anduin and the Ephel Duath were now penned inside Imlad Ithil! They were constrained thither as prisoners by a leaguer of Men! And who commanded yonder mortals? Young King Anárion? Nay! 'Twas none other than the companion of Helluin, the very same Green Elf he had toyed with upon Amon Hen. He swore then and there that he would crush her, and in doing thus, strike an unassuagable blow against his enemy's heart. He would cripple thus Helluin's resolve and paralyze her spirit. All knew an Elf could pine away from such sadness. Rather than a glorious fall in battle would she succumb rather to an ignominious fading away, broken in spirit, vanquished in heart, and carrying ever after the sorrowful realization that she had engaged an enemy far her superior in darkness and wrath. Amidst all his ill-fate and failure, a grim chuckle escaped his misshapen and blackened lips.

The thought of laying low Helluin's soulmate and thereby blighting her _fëa_ drew back his attention to Mt. Doom. 'Twas his preferred preoccupation. He was't disgusted by the failure of his host and could not yet abide viewing them at length or hearing their excuses. Therefore he turned thither his sight once more to the Sammath Naur and ignored yet again that which went forth beyond his realm.

Now within the week following their victory upon the field of Dagorlad, the Host of the Last Alliance advanced and encamped outside the Black Gate. Thither had they built hasty fortifications to shield their forward positions from such cast missiles and rains of burning fluids as were directed upon them from atop the Morannon, and in the following days they extended their trench lines and tunnels close by the gate. Indeed 'twas the sappers and engineers of Khazad-dûm who had the most to do with this, for no wall could stand against such corps of miners when given the grace of time to work.

"Now come'th the siege," Gil-galad had said with a groan of distaste at the council of war following the first battle. "Great shalt be our losses ere we win through to Udûn."

"Aye, and yonder wall and gate shalt we be forced to breach," Elendil added. "Rams and engines shalt we need to contrive." He sighed. Such equipment had been far too cumbersome to bring hence from the west.

"Not perhaps so very long shalt we need wait," Durin IV had said, scratching his beard. He and his folk had examined the fortifications with great care and their expert eye for masonry. "So massive stands this wall and gate that almost we can hear the tortured protests of the rock 'neath it as 'tis o'erborne by their weight. Already structural settling hast left it swaybacked by a finger's length o'er its span," he asserted with certainty. "Little effort shalt it take, I deem, for it to fall."

The others stared at him in shock. The Morannon stretched from the sheer walls of the Ered Lithui, 'cross o'er a mile of wasteland to the Ephel Duath. It rose well 'nigh 100 feet to an o'erhanging battlement crowned with firing slots and towers of watch, while'st amidmost stood the impenetrable gate itself, wrought of black iron, set upon hinges of steel sunk deep into the massive pilings upon either side, and faced with ribs of bronze. Upon it was't an unsleeping watch, and from its top, legions of Tor flung boulders and o'erturned cauldrons of flaming oil. It appeared both unapproachable and unbreachable.

To the disbelief of the other kings, Durin assured them, "We shalt contrive to undermine it with a tunnel. Nay, not for the passage of our arms, but rather to collapse it. We shalt easily bring down this monstrosity, ill-conceived and ill-executed, for wall and gate stand not upon bare bedrock as we would build such, but rather atop the compacted ash and weathering sediments of the volcano and the mountains. The season is right. Yea, come spring, great shalt be its fall!"

Then, though still having some misgivings, Elendil and Ereinion easily agreed to Durin's plan, for if such could be, then countless lives would be saved compared to the brutal and deadly frontal assault they might hath launched against the gate.

So through the autumn and winter, while'st aboveground Men and Elves made a show of constructing some catapults, 'neath the surface worked the miners and sappers of the Naugrim. By their calculations they tunneled to the place 'neath the gate, and thence to either side far enough to span the pilings anchoring gate to wall, and thence increasing in width this tunnel until little save a few strategically placed columns of frozen sediment supported the Morannon. In the spring, when the host was't prepared to wage war and the soil thawed, the columns would collapse and the Black Gate would fall.

Now 'nigh Yule, when Durin led his allies thither for inspection, Gil-glad and Elendil and Isildur cringed. Thither they had come through a tunnel that sloped down, thus to safely pass by such depth as was't immune to the falling of missiles and was't most effective for collapsing the wall. Thence they beheld a huge chamber, fully 100 feet in height, 50 feet in breadth, and supported by 'naught but a single row of slender, wasp-waisted columns which ran off center down the length of the room.

"In height it equals the height of the wall," Durin told them, "while in breadth 'tis greater than the gate's thickness. The columns art placed off center of the weight above so that the imbalance shalt hasten their collapse and not provide any support to the ruins." He cast an evil grin at the whole excavation. "Barely can I wait the demolition," he chortled, and then actually capered with anticipation. "It shalt be…dramatic."

"And when shalt this whole collapse?" Elendil asked.

"In the spring," Durin said, nodding with certainty.

"Upon any particular day?" Gil-galad asked.

The Dwarf looked at the Elven King with a mixture of curiosity and mirth. All things came to fruition in their appointed time…weather, history, and great works of craft. Thus impatience was't foreign to him. Durin had no doubt that the Morannon would fall.

"Upon the day when the thaw extends down unto the midpoint of the columns," he said.

But the high kings of Men and Elves looked uncertainly at the king of the Dwarves.

With a sigh, Durin added, "By the mid-weeks of Gwaeron I should stand prepared, though the weather in hither land I know not well. 'Tis likely it shalt thaw sooner than in the Hithaeglir, but the exact day I know not. Does it matter greatly? The wall shalt collapse inwards and spill all unto Udûn, not outwards upon our heads, and the ruin shalt encompass all the gate and its pilings, this much I can foretell. We hath calculated the volume and shape of the chamber such that it shalt fill with rubble well 'nigh equal to ground level. Thou shalt see. And afterwards we can advance 'cross it as we see fit."

"Then we shalt charge and o'erwhelm our confounded enemies," Isildur gloated.

Durin nodded to himself and led hence his guests, back out the tunnel and into the light. _Isildur at least thinks with the ferocity of a Dwarf Lord,_ he thought. Once back outside they stood, looking upon the doomed Morannon, and soon all wore wide grins. Now they could do aught but await the spring.

"Think thou that Anárion shalt join us by then?" Gil-galad asked Elendil.

"I should think not," the King of Arnor replied, "else we should hath seen his forces hither ere the freeze. Nay, I wager he shalt first retake Minas Ithil ere he joins his host to ours. Indeed, I should hope so, and if he leaves thence a garrison upon the Ephel Duath, so much the better to plug that bolt-hole for the rats of Sauron."

To this the Elven King nodded in agreement. Then they set about biding their time as the months of freezing passed.

Now in the first week of Nínui, (February), one came to the encampment of the Host of the Alliance and was't ushered into the lords' board, and there she pulled back her hood and revealed herself.

"Beinvír Laiquende," Elendil exclaimed in surprise, "whither come'th thou?"

"Indeed from Ithilien, O King, and with stealth, knowing not if these lands art safe," she said.

Gil-galad looked at her in shock and then stared about the chamber as if missing someone.

"Hath Helluin come'th with thee also?" He finally asked.

"Nay, O King," Beinvír said, "for she hast been long occupied in combat."

"In what battle? Whither doth she fight and with whom?" Elendil asked as he gestured the Green Elf to the seat beside him. Isildur slid his own chair down a place to make room for her and then stood to assist her into her seat. She graced him with a smile for his gallant manners.

"Helluin hath long battled the Nine," she reported, to which the others gasped, "and she hast sealed the last three with her inside Orodruin that thou call Mt. Doom. Had thou wondered not that those most fell servants of thy enemy opposed thee not?"

For some moments only silence greeted her words. Expressions of shocked wonder shaped the faces of those gathered thither. To oppose the deathless Nine who cloaked themselves in terror, and to do thus alone…it boggled the mind. However did she conquer the fear? At last Isildur spoke.

"Never in any lore hath I heard tell aforetime of such bravery," he said in awe. "Indeed we hath considered not those absent from the battle, only those whom we faced. Tell me of her strategy, I pray thee, for I would hear tell of such heroism."

'Twas small wonder that he who was't most forward in arms and most daring in action would cleave in his heart most strongly to the acts of another such in time of war. Here was't a tale to inspire his own heart, and laid atop his already considerable regard for the two ellith, led him to well 'nigh a state of hero worship. Elendil, though more reserved, felt much the same.

About the table the initial shock receded to be replaced by individual reactions. The Lords Glorfindel and Cirdan wore small smiles, for they saw in these tidings the reinforcement of their impressions of their friend. She had acted to spare them all from facing those very foes that their allies were least equipped to oppose, applying thus her prowess to the greatest mutual advantage. More, they knew that for one of her powers, the Úlairi were little threat; certainly not compared to that which they could hath wrought upon the mortals in their host. Elrond worried for the outcome and the well being of his friend. He had always admired Helluin, yet knew too of her wrath and of the atrocities she had committed during the last war. He understood her darkness better than his king and nearly as well as Glorfindel, and he felt a twinge of fear for what might transpire. Gil-galad was't well 'nigh horrified. He too knew that the Úlairi could do Helluin little harm, and in his own mind he calculated that she could not but prevail. He saw her fearsome bloodlust as bringing her eventual victory and foresaw her contesting next with the Dark Lord himself. And what then? His old fears of Helluin victorious o'er Sauron and the prospect of her taking up his One Ring very nearly made him ill.

"Upon 13 Gwirith last did we mark the final leave-taking of the Host of Sauron from the Morannon, marching thither from the Black Land to lay waste Rhovanion," Beinvír reported. "Upon the following morn did Helluin make her way east, o'er the Ephel Duath and the fences of the Morgai which lie within, intending to make her way thence unto Orodruin. In that same time I hastened west to Gondor, and as we had agreed with Lord Anárion aforetime, took up again command of the Guardians of Lebennin who art now called the Rangers of Ithilien."

At her words excitement lit the eyes of the Dúnedain, knowing that aid had come to their folk from the coastal lands of the south. This the Green Elf clearly perceived.

"Long hath the Realm of Lebennin stood, O Kings of Men, and in their time was't the duty of keeping the watch upon Mordor theirs. 'Tis little wonder then that now, when the Dark Lord hast struck against Gondor, the warriors of Lebennin marched forth to battle 35,000 strong. With these troops I hath foiled the passage of Sauron's armies, ending thus his incursions into Gondor, and in the past fall did we at last constrain all of evil will to the City of the Moon in Imlad Ithil. Thither now stands a leaguer about them, and in the spring shalt we unseat them and slay or drive them hence, reclaiming thy fair city in the name of the king." Here Beinvír dipped her head to Lord Isildur. Tears of gratitude started in the eyes of the elder son of Elendil at her words.

"In the meantime hast Helluin engaged in battle with the nine Úlairi," Beinvír continued, "and she hath laid low six of their number. But the three remaining, they being the chieftains of the Ringwraiths, contest with her still, and all art trapped within the Sammath Naur."

"Wait a moment, I pray thee!" cried Isildur. "Saith thou that Helluin hast maintained a combat since Gwirith last? Why, 'tis a battle of well 'nigh 10 months! Surely she hath had some respite? Surely her enemies too hath felt some need of rest."

"My Lord Isildur, through the link of spirit I share with Helluin I hath learnt that no respite hath either party taken, but rather fought steadily and fiercely since they initially engaged. Indeed I believe that no respite shalt there be ere the resolution of their combat, for neither party shalt ask nor accept quarter from their foes. This fight is too bitter.

Indeed the remaining wraiths art barely a match for her and I feel her anticipation of their fall with each stroke. She fights on, believing in the certainty of their defeat, while'st they can but ward her off, for she hast discerned that they seek not to slay her, but rather to deliver her alive to their master in his Dark Tower."

Elendil and Isildur were shocked to silence. Hardy Men they were, kings and great captains of ships. But in no terms would they hath imagined that any Child of the One could maintain personal combat for even one week without rest. The thought of facing three such foes for ten months without pause was't incomprehensible.

"How much doth thou truly know of the Amanyar?" Glorfindel asked them softly.

"We know they art immortal as art all the Elder Kindred of the One," Elendil replied, "and that during their abiding in the Blessed Realm in the Age of the Trees was't great power and knowledge conferred upon them. What exactly the extent of such virtues truly entails, I now deem we knew not."

"Indeed even the least of the Amanyar art as thou say, for the Light within their spirits such foes as the Úlairi art unable to withstand," Glorfindel told them. "Yet amongst the Calaquendi there art too the greater and the lesser, even as there art amongst Men.

Know then that Helluin is well 'nigh a case apart. Of old did she absorb not merely the virtue of the hallowed land of Aman, but sought out its Light repeatedly in its purest form. For a thousand years and more she stood 'neath the showering fall of the mingled dews of the Two Trees, such as no other within Arda hath dared. In those times that most Holy Light penetrated her, conferred its Blessings upon her, and, I believe, changed her.

What well of power deep lives within her now I know not. I do know that she hath repelled an attack by Sauron aforetime, shields herself from his gaze at all times, and upon more than one occasion, she hast dared to challenge him. And as she believes, so too doth I believe; that her mastery o'er the Úlairi is but a matter of time. She shalt achieve it, whether by strength of arms or by her wit, and indeed she hast within her the strength to fight until she prevails, though it take a hundred years."

Lord Glorfindel turned then to his young king and spoke.

"My lord, those tiny fragments of the Blessed Light that sparked the Exile of our people and all the wars of Beleriand art but the chaff before the granary that is housed within Helluin's spirit. For all thy fear of her battle rage and the darkness that now dwells within her, the very Light from which she draws her power would indeed destroy her were she truly evil. Foul creatures cannot withstand it. The Silmarils burnt even the hand of Morgoth and one alone consumed the bowels of _Carcharoth_**¹**. And within Helluin blazes such of that Light as burns not in any other of the Amanyar, nay, not even the Vanyar! I hath been most recent of us in Valinor and I know of what I speak. Fear not, O my King, for were she to take Sauron's Ring and set it upon her hand, I wager that t'would fail ere she, and failing thence of its darkness, t'would wither from the world. I hath no fear of her falling to Sauron's token. Indeed sooner would I welcome such a disposition of it than any other."

**¹**(**Carcharoth, _the Red Maw,_** a giant wolf bred by Morgoth and ensouled with a devouring spirit; he bit off the hand of Beren that held the Silmaril and was driven mad by the burning it wrought within his belly. Eventually he was slain by Huan, the Hound of the Valar. _The Sil, OBaL, pgs 212- 220_)

Gil-galad sat in silence considering Glorfindel's words. The others too gave thought to his claims. But most, Beinvír was't thankful for the faith that the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower showed for her beloved. Indeed even she had known her moments of doubt. And yet she felt in her heart that not all was't so simple as he believed. Wherefore came then the compensation for the mutilations and atrocities Helluin had visited upon their foes during the war in Eriador? Why then had not some ruin come upon her from within in that time? Or had such indeed befallen her from without? Had the doom pronounced by the Eagle been Manwe's judgment against her? And yet the Eagle had said that her doom constituted not a punishment and had been wrought long aforetime. Finally after much thought and no conclusions, the Green Elf spoke.

"Ere I take my leave and return to the Realm of Gondor I would hear any words thou hast for the Lord Anárion. I hath told all such tidings as I came to share."

"I pray thee say thus to my son," Elendil told her, "that my prayers and hopes go with him and that I think oft of him and his kin. Ever he hast my Blessing. Give my thanks to the Men of Lebennin as well, for they art true-hearted and valiant and I am proud to call them allies and friends."

And Isildur asked, "What word of the Men of the Mountains? Hath they too joined thee in thy fight?"

"Nay, O King, none of that folk hath come," Beinvír told him, "and of old when as Chief Guardians did Helluin and I preserve the peace of Lebennin, that folk were outcast and outlawed, untrustworthy and ever a threat. We had no dealings with them save to guard our borders and uplands against them. Never would I hath expected aught of aid from that quarter, nor would I hath trusted their service in any case."

At these words, Isildur growled and clenched tight his jaw in anger.

"I bound their king by oath to serve our cause," he ground out in a growing rage, "and upon the Stone of Erech did he swear his oath to me, to stand and fight against Sauron!"

"Lord Isildur, in years long past did many of that folk worship Morgoth ere they came hither as refugees to the southern coast. I am little surprised that they hath failed to oppose Sauron now," the Green Elf said.

Her words ignited the wrath of the elder son of Elendil and he leapt to his feet.

"Then by all the Valar I doth curse them," Isildur proclaimed, slamming down his fist upon the table. "I curse them to rest not, and not even in the shadow of death shalt they find peace! They hath sworn their service and ere they find their way from Middle Earth, they shalt serve. Yea, they shalt serve ere the end. By the Valar, they shalt serve!"

Then the King of Minas Ithil's eyes took on a faraway gaze, as if he cast his wrathful glance upon one cringing before him though many miles stood between. To Beinvír's eyes a glow as of fire grew in the Man's face and never aforetime had she seen aught of such power in a mortal. And Isildur spoke thence to the King of the Mountains with prophecy and condemnation, knowing that in his craven heart, the oath breaker would hear his words of chastisement.

"Hear me, O betrayer, for thou shalt be the last king! And if the West prove mightier than thy Black Master, this curse I lay upon thee and thy folk: to rest never 'til thy oath is fulfilled. For this war shalt last through years uncounted, and thou shalt be summoned once again ere the end.**¹**"

**¹**(Isildur's curse is taken from LotR, RotK, Book 5, TPotGC, pg 765, with slight paraphrasing and amendment of setting).

The gathered Eldar cringed at his words, especially the Noldor. A curse or oath of vengeance sworn in the name of the Valar was't viscerally terrifying to them. So too had Feanor spoken, to the ruin of all their people. Only had he named Ilúvatar too would Isildur's curse hath seemed more horrific. Whether or not aught came of it in his own lifetime, such words spoken in the heat of anger would be heard 'cross the sea; the Eldar were sure of it. There would be consequences.

In that moment a dark foreboding came upon Lord Glorfindel. The son of the High King of Men had a fey streak and a rage within that set his hair on end. Much evil could come of it. By his curse had he not consigned the Men of the Mountains to a fate as wraiths? The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower resolved to keep watch upon the doings of Isildur whenever he could spare an eye.

Alone of them all, Durin IV silently applauded Isildur's actions. _Like him, I too should curse any who betrayed me in such dire straits, _he thought, _again 'tis Isildur who abides most closely in heart to our own. Yea, the more I learn of him, the more I like this King of Men. _

Now Beinvír took her leave and none marked her passing, and in good time she came again to Gondor. Thither she conveyed her messages and tidings to King Anárion and then took up again her duties with the Rangers of Ithilien. Spring was't soon to come.

**To Be Continued**


	71. In An Age Before Chapter 71

**In An Age Before – Part 71

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**

The month of Gwaeron, (March), brought the lengthening of the days, and with it came the first warming of spring. Ice thinned and finally failed upon the pools of the swamp to the north and frozen ground gave way to mud. 'Neath the Black Gate the thaw worked its fingers deeper and deeper. Water dripped from the ceiling of the Dwarf hewn chamber and upon 13 Gwaeron Durin's engineers proclaimed the chamber and tunnel no longer safe. The army massed and weapons were prepared in anticipation. Men and Elves and Dwarves readied themselves for war. Upon 18 Gwaeron the columns failed.

'Twas mid-afternoon and a warmer day following a week of warming weather. The trend had not been stayed by either a snap frost or a night's freeze. Upon the Morannon Yrch strode their watches and Tor fondled boulders seeking any target within their range. All stood as it had since the prior fall, yet all felt the impending return of battle. Anor reached and passed his zenith as upon each day before. Then with a groan that grew quickly to an earth-shaking tremor, the gate shivered, shook, and finally toppled, crashing down into a pit just vast enough to swallow it. When 'twas gone, swallowed whole by the earth, all that remained was't a surprisingly shallow sink, somewhat rough at the surface, but not so treacherous as to preclude its crossing.

At first neither side did aught but stand staring in amazement at the ruin of the Black Gate. Then o'er the settling of the wreckage the howls and shrieks of the wounded could be heard. Silver trumpets blew a fanfare, and as the dust began to settle it revealed the charging Host of the Alliance.

Ere the Glamhoth or the Easterlings could move to guard the gap, the cavalry of Lindon and Arnor slammed through their rent defenses, riding down any in their way. Behind them came the Nandor, of all the host, the most anxious to redress their earlier defeat, while close by on their heels came the Noldor, the Sindar, the Dúnedain, and last of all, the Naugrim. The allies flooded through the gap in the wall and struck their disorganized foes like the wave front of some deadly tide. Men and Elves hewed anything that moved. Dwarves slaughtered their enemies. The Nandor shot every enemy they found, even firing through the cloth of their tents. Many had not even the time to flee ere they were cut down. 'Twas a slaughter even worse than upon Dagorlad, for none of Sauron's Host had expected to fight that day. Indeed, none had expected to fight ere orders came to them from the Black Tower.

Now despite the o'erwhelming victory the Host of the Last Alliance won that day, one tragedy bears special mention, for it wrought heavily upon the history of a great realm in latter days. As hast been told, the Nandor followed first upon the heels of the cavalry, outpacing all other kindreds upon foot. Hot was't their wrath and deep their grievance for their losses upon Dagorlad. Thither had Amdír been slain and Oropher o'erwhelmed amidst the retainers of his household, and surviving, he bore a most bitter thirst for vengeance. Thus when the charge of his remaining folk penetrated deep within the ranks of the Yrch of Udûn, he slacked not his pace, but rather pursued the foe with abandon, his bowmen slaying all who fled before them.

'Twas in the hellish depths of that land whence chance rose against him, for the king of Greenwood came with but a company against a larger company of Yrch, trapping them for slaughter in a defile, but they themselves had been followed thither. As the bowmen of Calenglad fired upon their penned enemies, at their backs came another company of the Glam, and with them several Tor. These new foes were upon them ere they realized their peril. Now amidst the ranks of the Nandor strode the great club-wielding monsters and the desperate armored Yrch. With swords and clubs these broke in amongst the Elves, and engaged them hand to hand. Though Oropher's troops fought fiercely they were now outnumbered and outclassed in arms. Many fell to the swings of the Tor's iron studded clubs, long as a Man's body and just as heavy. Many more fell to the blades of the Yrch. In the end the Nandor were slaughtered to a one, and there upon Udûn did the King of Calenglad i'Dhaer fall at the last. His rent body and the partially eatenremains of his warriors were only later found, and Thranduil his son was't racked with sorrow ever after as the sight of his mutilated body burnt itself into his memory.

Now the ruin of the gate and the assault upon Udûn was't just as strong a shock to Sauron as to the least of his foot soldiers. He had anticipated nothing, had seen nothing, and had prepared for nothing. For many weeks all he had sought to view was't the continuing battle within Orodruin. To the exclusion of aught else had he laid thither his undivided attention. When he was't finally aware of the debacle at the Black Gate, 'twas as before, the shrieking and wailing of his defeated forces that begged him harken.

He whirled north in shock to see the great gap in the impenetrable gateway to his land, the dead that lay upon the harsh stone being trampled underfoot, and the fleeing of his remaining companies. Wrath exploded in him, as at the fore of his enemies, riding toward his tower in triumph, he saw two figures flashing bright in the now late afternoon sun. 'Twas Ereinion son of Fingon in his silver armor, and Glorfindel blazing with the hideous Light of Aman. A shriek came from Sauron's throat that shook the foundations of the Barad-dúr and set the lake of magma in Orodruin restlessly percolating.

In that moment, for the first time in weeks, Sauron's mind and power pulled wholly free of the battle in Mt. Doom. He forgot utterly his archenemy Helluin and his Nazgûl. The power he gifted them through his Ring was't withdrawn. For one moment they faltered in their attack, and seizing immediately the advantage, Helluin lunged forward with the Grave Wing. The Sarchram clove the black robe and hewed the undead neck of the third of the Úlairi, and with a horrifying howl, she who had traded her natural life and death for her service unto the Dark Lord disintegrated and was't no more upon the Hither Shores. Her accursed spirit was't driven from Ea into the eternal darkness of the Void.

Helluin raised her weapons and the light in her eyes flared as he cast her glance upon the remaining two. Tindomul and Khamûl regarded her, then each other. As three they had but maintained a stalemate. As two they would fall. And in no way did they believe they could accomplish their mission. In the next moment their swords dropped from their hands and their empty robes fluttered to the ground. They had given up the battle and fled unclothed, back to their master in disgrace.

At their disappearance, Helluin looked about herself and exhaled a great breath. For the first time in months she stood completely still. After a moment she sat down upon the causeway and rested her sword across her knees. She took in great gulps of air and noted for the first time how hot was't that chamber and how sickening were the fumes. She realized that she had no idea how long had passed since she had commenced the battle. As she sat, Helluin idly watched the Nazgûl's swords writhe and wither and turn to ash.

_Mórgúl blades, wound 'bout and empowered by sorcery, _she thought, _but now bereft of their source, reduced to 'naught but shadows of malice and cruelty._

Finally she stood again and appraised her situation. Her bow and quiver lay on the rocks below, far out of reach. Anguirél she had sheathed and now Helluin resigned herself to spending some time escaping from the fiery mountain. With a vicious cast, sent the Sarchram against the rockslide that had sealed the Sammath Naur. Boulders shattered and sparks flew. Again and again she flung her weapon. Bit by bit the barricade fell. Each time, the Grave Wing returned to her hand. Slowly she made progress. She wondered what she would find when she left; food and water for one thing, she hoped, for indeed she felt famished.

Now the two remaining Úlairi, the captain and the lieutenant of the Nazgûl, came thither to the chamber of their master in the Barad-dúr. Their timing could not hath been worse. Sauron had just taken the measure of his defeat at the Morannon, counted the losses sustained by his soldiery in Udûn, and marked the destruction of the spirit of the third wraith. When the two surviving Nazgûl presented themselves, having fled the contest and achieved not their errand, he erupted in a rage. Sauron surrounded the naked spirits of his failed servants with several kinds of fire and then tormented them mercilessly until the remnant of his northern host encamped themselves beyond the iron bridge leading to his tower. Then he left Tindomul and Khamûl for a time, constrained and whimpering in despair, to attend to the chastisement of his mortal captains, Herumor and Fuinur.

Indeed Sauron spent two weeks conveying his displeasure at the outcome of the war. He found it did him good to threaten and cow his minions; there was't always an up side to defeat. When at last Herumor and Fuinur were properly intimidated, and the new commander of the Glamhoth sufficiently terrified, he flung several thousand soldiers of mixed kinds into the rivers of fire 'neath his iron bridge to emphasize his points and then retired again to his tower. Almost he gave in to the temptation to linger yet longer, for the scent of fear in the air had been intoxicating.

When at last he returned to his chamber, Sauron inspected his underlings. Tindomul and Khamûl had remained as he'd left them, their insubstantial beings peeled to their cores by his sleepless eye. He had constrained them thus, wreathed in fires that seemed to scorch those most vulnerable aspects of their psyches. Now he couldn't resist taunting them apace. Yet eventually he even grew tired of his sport and he released them to lick their wounds and recover such of their self esteem as he would allow them.

In the meantime, the Host of the Last Alliance had encamped in a cordon about Gorgoroth, beleaguering the Barad-dúr and threatening the remnants of the host that Sauron had left cowering outside his walls. Now the Dark Lord surveyed the deployment of the allies of the west and smirked. No such rabble, no matter what their count, could lay a successful siege to his tower. They would grow old and die ere they breached his defenses. And he and his most trusted servants could wait through generations of mortal lives, until even the grandsons of those now bringing war to his land were old and grey. He ignored them and turned again his attentions to Orodruin.

The Dark Lord's eye pierced distance and darkness and stone. He saw the threshold of his causeway and looked within the tunnel. Within the mountain his sight showed him the discarded robes of his Úlairi and he sneered at them so that they cowered yet afresh. There stood his altar and his forge. But something was't missing. The way from the ascending road to the Cracks of Doom lay clear and empty of life. Helluin had gone! In his time of distraction she had escaped! Back and forth his eye searched with increasing desperation. He bent the full power of his will and his Ring upon her and was't thwarted.

His enemy had come into his land, challenged him, defeated his servants, and then she had gone as easily as she had come. And more. She had fed him lies aforetime, constrained his attention thereafter, and thereby engineered the defeat of his host. A new howl of rage rose from the topmost chamber of the Barad-dúr and it filled all the Host of the Black Land with terror.

It had taken Helluin two weeks to clear the passage from the Sammath Naur so that she could finally stagger out into the dark of night upon the side of Mt. Doom. Below her the panorama of Gorgoroth stretched out in a tableau of inky black, dotted in places by the campfires of two armies and the orange-red glow of the lava river 'neath the bridge to the west gate of the Dark Tower. For some time she merely stood breathing the air and absorbing the night. When she focused her ears she could hear far off, the wailing and shrieking of Yrch and Men in terror. Her sight revealed Sauron striding amongst his hapless thralls, slaughtering one here and another there ere he flung whole companies off the precipice 'nigh his bridge. She turned away from this scenario in disgust and began walking down the ascending road. 'Twas 8 Gwirith, (April 8th), S.A. 3435.

After passing the skeletons of the Nazgûl's horses and making thence another two leagues, she could go no further. Now that the imperative of the fight had ended and her bloodlust had fled, Helluin was't stricken by her exhaustion at last. She staggered downslope from the road, finding thence a place hidden amongst the boulders that made up the sides of the volcano, and there she hunkered down 'neath her cloak and fell at last into a rejuvenating rest. Alone in the lee of the sheltering rock, she gazed sightlessly upwards as day passed into night and then to day again. For a fortnight she didn't move. Scarcely did she breath.

Each morn the meager condensation of the desert night provided a scant dozen drops of water that trickled down a furrow in the boulder o'erhanging her face and dripped thence into her mouth. Thus by the grace of Ulmo, Lord of All Waters, she was't sustained.

'Twas 22 Gwirith when finally Helluin stirred from her rest. She shook her head and slowly rose from her place of concealment. Weakness she felt, and a sensation almost as of floating, and some time passed ere her legs would reliably bear her hence. Well 'nigh a year of constant fighting had sapped her reserves and now she had a deficit to assuage, not of the _fëa_ which had sustained her, but rather of her _hroa_, which clamored now for sustenance. Food and drink Helluin sought, and this she discerned would be most easily found in the camp of the Allied Host that had encircled the Barad-dúr. Indeed the nearest of their bivouacs lay but 23 miles east of Orodruin.

Thither Helluin set out, rejoining the road encircling the fiery mount and proceeding hence under cover of night. In the cooler darkness she walked at a respectable pace, fearing not to meet any enemies, and guessing that the Eye of Sauron sought her not, but rather cast its glare upon the enemy host outside his walls.

_Glad am I to be walking downhill this night, _Helluin thought as she made her way 'round the west side of Mt. Doom, _for I feel now little better than the wraith's horses_.

Above her the night lay black as ink, yet the stars burned the brighter for it, though in Mordor they seemed farther away. Ithil stood in the eastern sky, a crescent only, with but a couple nights remaining on the wane. 'Twas early still. For a moment Helluin stood unmoving, facing the shadow of the Ephel Duath, darker even than the sky and blocking out the stars. Somewhere beyond those peaks in Ithilien her beloved Beinvír fought. She tried to reach out to her, to sense her wellbeing across their bond. Weak she was't in body, yet even so a spark of warmth did she perceive in the west. With eyes closed she could almost see her soulmate as she kept watch upon the Imlad Ithil with the Rangers of Ithilien. Focused and wary Beinvír was't, yet neither afraid nor in danger. For a moment Helluin sensed Beinvír as one watching another from concealment might, and then she was't discovered and an outpouring of love struck her heart as the Green Elf perceived her as well. And the most deadly of the Noldor welcomed that warmth more joyously than a feast. Heart to heart they spoke in joyous communion.

_Thou art well, meldanya, _Helluin whispered, _and I rejoice in thee._

_I rejoice in thee as well, anamelda_**¹ **Beinvír replied, surprising Helluin by using a term of endearment in Quenya, _yet I feel thou art weary. Art thy enemies fallen? _

**¹**(**anamelda, _most beloved, __ana-_**(superlative pref, _most_) + **_melda_**(beloved) Quenya)

_Indeed I am weary, but the last of the Úlairi hath fled, _Helluin reported_. One only fell, yet it shalt be many years ere any of them art again a threat. I seek now sustenance from the camp of the allies. Barad-dúr is besieged._

_So too is Imlad Ithil,_ Beinvír told her, _and so it seems we hath yet each our own wars to fight._

'_Tis so, though I wish greatly 'twas not, _Helluin mentally sighed, _I should rejoin thee with joy._

_And I would greet thee with joy. Yet thou hast missed many meals this year past. Go thou now to thy board, my love, ere thou collapse. _There was't a grin to be heard in the Green Elf's thoughts and it warmed Helluin's spirit to hear it. _I love thee 'till world's ending._

_As I love thee. Be well 'till next we meet._

Then Helluin turned away from the west and continued down Sauron's Road around the mountain. Through the night she walked, and by slow increments the campfires of the allied host grew closer in her sight. They had waylaid the road and encamped upon either side of it. Now the warrior had but to follow the track to come to the allied camp.

'Twas two hours ere dawn when Helluin came at last to the outermost sentries and she found them upon the road, a company of six Naugrim of Khazad-dûm. These were unknown to her, and she to them, and indeed they had expected none to approach them from the west. At once they recovered from their shock and grasped tightly their axes, forming in a wedge formation and facing her undaunted.

"Stay thy advance and declare thyself," the foremost of them called out.

Helluin stopped walking and faced them at a dozen paces. When one uncovered a lantern she blinked and squinted as its beam found her.

"Hold fast thy blades, O stalwart soldiers of Khazad-dûm," Helluin said in Sindarin, "I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, long a friend and ally of the House of Durin. I hath come afresh from battle in yonder mount. I pray thee, direct me thither to such as art charged as quartermasters of provisions. I seek after food and drink."

"Ahhh, one of the bright-eyed Eldar," the guard remarked as he regarded her closely in the light of his lamp. "I knew not that thy folk hath deployed unto Orodruin. Thy host stands foremost 'nigh the bridge. Surely thou must report thither?"

"Indeed so." Helluin said, humoring them. She had no desire to join Gil-galad's army. "Yet I beseech thee, ere I make my way hence to lord and king, would it be not possible to partake somewhat of refreshment? I swear, I feel as if I hath supped not in a year."

At this the Naugrim chuckled knowingly. So far as they had heard tell, the Elven Host supped not nearly so well as themselves. And being Khazâd, they all reveled in feasting. A day without food indeed felt like a year, and after a battle every soldier craved his company's board. 'Twas nearly another fifteen miles to the camp of the Eldar. Helluin's desire for a snack was readily understandable to them all.

"Go thou hence a furlong and then make thy way off the road to the right. Thou shalt soon come to the soldier's mess. Tell Bâget that the guards sent thee thither ere thou collapse before thou can'st report to thy lord."

Helluin laughed and thanked the guards and went upon her way. When she turned off the road she found herself surrounded by the encampment of the Naugrim, and as usual, much of it consisted of trenches and these she entered, being forced to stoop to pass some of the covered areas ere she came to a great mess tent with only its peak above ground. A sentry met her at the entrance.

"Whyfore hast one of the Eldar come hither?" He asked, eyeing her with only curiosity as she stood stooped over at the waist.

"Indeed the guards upon the road sent me hither for they discerned rightly that I might succumb to hunger following battle ere I report to my lord," Helluin told him, adding, "and once there I should rue the missed opportunity. Such reports tend to be o'er wordy and long winded." She sighed theatrically. The guard smiled sympathetically and nodded. All foot soldiers knew that reporting to officers could be tedious when one was't hungry. "I was't told to seek after one Bâget, Officer of the Board." She looked at him hopefully.

With a chuckle he nodded o'er his shoulder and stood aside for her to pass. As she entered, he called out past her, "Yo Bâget! Ladle up a bowl of stew and draw ale, we've ahungry Elf just come from fierce fighting to save from starvation at the hands of her officers." Helluin favored him with a nod and a wide smile as she passed. Already the scent of food was't making her stomach grumble and her mouth water.

Bâget was't fat even for a Dwarf and no doubt finished off all the leftovers. He set a bowl of stew before her so large that it appeared more like a cauldron. Helluin could nearly hath bathed in the goblet of ale. Obviously he assumed her height demanded a portion sized for the appetite of a Dwarf of her stature. In the past it would hath left her so bloated as to be immobile for days. For once Helluin complained not but set to the feast. For once she actually managed to finish what had been set before her without discomfort.

With a groan of satisfaction she sat back from the table and closed her eyes. She was't full and for the moment content. Indeed, she wondered after her chances of joining the Dwarves' army. The meal had been much better than waybread and dried meat and fruit. Ere she left, Bâget pressed upon her a smallish sack containing some loaves and a flagon of ale, noting that her peoples' camp was't still well 'nigh five leagues to the east.

**To Be Continued**


	72. In An Age Before Chapter 72

**In An Age Before – Part 72

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**

Now Helluin indeed had no intention of entering the camp of the Elven Host. Rather her plan was't now to come eventually to the Black Tower, for thither had the Úlairi fled and thither too skulked her great enemy. Despite the heroism some saw in her battle within Mt. Doom, but one of the _Úlairi_ had fallen, and that result Helluin deemed 'naught but a great disappointment. So now she reckoned her worthiest contribution to the efforts of the Host of the Alliance would come, not from wielding her sword upon Gorgoroth, but rather by infiltrating and promoting chaos within the bastion of the Dark Lord. 'Twas a continuation of the daring strategy she had begun using the _palantír _in the Tower of Orthanc. Upon this day Helluin resolved to bring such distractions as she could contrive to the counsels and heart of her foe. And as ever, 'twas the thinking of one given to fearless solo actions taken against an o'erwhelmingly superior antagonist; Helluin had never been the greatest example of a team player.

_Let the great bilge rat be confounded within his very lair just as he hast been within the borders of his land,_ she thought_. All the better to draw hence his eye from the combat to come, and who but the Valar know if perhaps too I shalt hath a chance to bring down that abhorrent wretch once and for all_.

In latter days many of the Wise hath questioned the wisdom of her design, deeming such a course both foolhardy and vain. Indeed many more believed not a word of it at all, while'st the vast majority remained wholly ignorant of her campaign. Perhaps 'tis true that by turns Helluin indulged herself then in the fancy that destroying Sauron was't her fate. While'st such was't surely grandiose, 'twas not without precedent.

More than once aforetime in her moments of wrath, facing the Dark Lord had been Helluin's goal. All too easily could she hath come to believe that the dark hosts, the years of war, the conflict that had come down to the present from long in the past, and the future threat to her beloved, all these could be swept away with a single cast of the Sarchram. Nay, she had not forgotten the vision that had tormented Beinvír upon Amon Hen, nor the gloating manner of Sauron in its wake. Merely thinking of it made Helluin grind her teeth. T'would not it be logical for her to ask herself whyfore had she wrought the Sarchram so long aforetime if not to lay low he who had brought so much contention unto Arda? Such 'twas surely her inspiration for the Grave Wing, she would then hath reasoned, and its spell no less than the manifestation foreshadowed by her strain in the First Song. Indeed Helluin could hath easily persuade herself that all she had achieved and endured was't but the preparation, the forging of her being, for this one act; the destruction of the Enemy. Perhaps upon this day she already deemed in her thought that indeed 'twas her destiny to next slay Sauron.

Now after taking her leave of the mess tent of the Naugrim, Helluin made her way southeast, walking away from the road. She recalled with the accuracy of Elven memory the placement of the opposing hosts. The enemy camps clove to the road 'nigh the chasm of lava and the iron bridge, the better to halt any seeking to come against the gate of Barad-dúr. Directly before them stood the various Elves upon the north of the road and the Dúnedain upon the south. Behind them, spaced in a wide arc, were the Naugrim.

Passing through both hosts and coming thence 'cross the bridge to Sauron's gate was't obviously folly. Even were she to win through to the Barad-dúr, entering by its most guarded portal would be well 'nigh impossible. Yet Helluin knew this about many a fortress and citadel she had seen; that in the building of such strong places, oft is there some hidden way or bolt hole, a postern door or tunnel deep, cunningly camouflaged or buried, set about with runes and spells of enchantment, and thence forgotten by all save the lord and perhaps some few of his most trusted retainers.

Upon a boulder beyond the cordon of Dwarvish sentries, Helluin sat in the dark and examined her memories. She saw in her mind's eye every vision she had ever gained of the Dark Tower. From her first visit to Mordor in 1125 as it stood abuilding, to the view earlier on this very night, all such she reviewed. And in none did she sense 'aught of that for which she sought; a secret way to enter Sauron's bastion.

So then, she would be forced to search. And wherefore would she be most likely to discover that hidden way? 'Nigh the slopes of the Ered Lithui that backed the Barad-dúr, she reasoned, facing that compass point least likely to be assailed. Behind the spur upon which Sauron's fortress rested there stood but a narrow valley ere the steep, barren slopes climbed to the bitter peaks of the Mountains of Ash. Thither, away from opposing armies, hidden from their view by the bulk of the walls and towers, and thus closest to the refuge of the eastern lands, would Sauron most likely hath placed his escape route. With a nod to herself, Helluin stood and began her march into the east.

Now of course she first had to go southeast, skirting the encampments of the armies and the fissure of lava, and remaining out of sight to all, including the sleepless eye in the tower. A glance at the sky revealed the westering moon, and thither sailed Eärendil, hinting of the coming dawn. An hour of darkness perhaps remained in this night. Helluin slipped away between the boulders in the tumbled land of Gorgoroth and gained such distance as would keep her separated from the Host of Arnor that stood closest to her. Finally, as the east grew dim at the rumor of Anor's rising, Helluin found shelter from sight in a narrow crevice, and there settled down to pass the hours of daylight.

For two nights Helluin made her way southeast, carefully covering 'nigh on 35 miles. A good reason she had for taking such a precaution ere she turned north. Not only the eyes of the allies did she seek to pass in stealth, nor even the sentries of the enemies gathered outside the Barad-dúr. Rather she sought to approach the tower from such an angle that no watchers upon the walls would seek for her, focusing rather their attention upon the massed forces maintaining the siege. The dark Noldo's circuitous way indeed took her further east than the Barad-dúr itself, well beyond the sightline from the tower that encompassed the arc of allies arrayed before it. When at last, upon 25 Gwirith, Helluin dared turn to approach the Dark Tower, she did so by marching due north, making for a place two leagues east of her objective at the foot of the spur protruding from the Ered Lithui.

'Twas another two nights of walking ere she stood upon the talus slope 'neath the steep incline of the spur. Knowing then that the night was't old, Helluin hunkered down out of sight behind a boulder to pass the day. So far she had encountered not a soul since meeting the Naugrim for supper. No scouts of the allied host, nor sorties of the enemy venturing thither had she spied. The land seemed vacant and dead, with all attention fixated upon the siege. A few bites of stale Dwarvish bread and a couple sips of flat ale made up her meal. With a last quick glance up at the Dark Tower she drew herself down 'neath her cloak and passed into a dreamscape of pleasant memories.

Meanwhile in the green lands of Ithilien stood a cordon of the soldiers of Gondor and the Rangers of Ithilien, and they held constrained within their leaguer the narrow valley of Imlad Ithil and King Isildur's City of the Rising Moon. Thither had the army of the southern kingdom forced all of Sauron's troops the autumn before, and they had kept a careful watch of great strength about that place all through the months of winter. Yet now spring had come again to the southlands and 'twas time to resume the war.

**Chapter Forty-seven**

_**The Barad-dúr and Minas Ithil – The Second Age of the Sun**_

'Twas perhaps now 5 Lothron, Helluin reckoned, for she had spent a week inspecting the tumbled heights of the spur for a hidden entrance to Sauron's fortress. Searching thither only in the dark of night had not made the task any quicker. Yet for one who had crossed the world by starlight on the westward march, fair Ithil's glow was't illumination enough. 'Nigh dawn the night before she had found what she sought at last; a boulder hewn by the coarse strokes of the Yrch and ludicrously set, out of place against a cliff face midway down a slope. The species of stone matched not that at its back! Had it separated naturally from on high, 't'would hath rolled free and clear of the cliff, yet thither it stood like an apple upon the branch of an orange tree. 'Twas as obvious a 'hidden' door as any Helluin had ever seen.

If any spell had lingered about it from the days of yore when it had been built, t'was not to be discerned now. Indeed, Helluin sensed nothing supernatural 'nigh it at all. Perhaps this place had been forgotten in the long years when the Barad-dúr had lain empty after Sauron's flight from the armies of Tar-Calmacil. She had shrugged and entered, finding the door surprisingly well balanced upon its iron hinges.

Within lay a tunnel, rough hewn and narrow, and dark as a tomb. It seemed to proceed due west towards the tower at a slight downward angle, and Helluin followed it thither warily. No sounds did she hear within, nor any scent save the faint odor of dry stone. Not even cobwebs laced the passage, as if any spiders once in residence there had long ago forsaken the tunnel for lack of prey. For a place hewn by Yrch, 'twas well 'nigh sterile. For this, Helluin was't thankful. Indeed since passing the door, the ever present stench of brimstone, that signature scent of Mordor, was't absent from her nostrils for the first time in o'er year.

Helluin paced along in that narrow way with footsteps so light as to forestall even an echo, searching the darkness by the reflected blue light of her own glowing eyes. Hour after hour no side passages or junctures did she discover. No deviation in direction or incline either did she detect, neither right nor left, up or down. The tunnel led straight on to the west, and Helluin wagered that o'er the course of the league ere she reached the foundation of the Barad-dúr, t'would dive to a subterranean level 'neath the Plain of Gorgoroth. Somewhere in the bowels and vast warrens of dungeons that she had once seen unroofed in 1125, she would come into the occupied spaces of her enemy's fortress.

_Well what did thou expect, _she asked herself, _safe passage unseen to Sauron's sanctum high in the tower? Nay, thou must needs start at the bottom and work thy way up._

Yet the prospect of confronting the prisons and deep chambers of this most vast and foul fortress was't highly distasteful. No sun, no moon, no stars, no fresh breeze, no clean water, only the stench of brimstone restored, augmented by rot, mildew, putrid scraps, infected wounds, and punctuated by the screams of the tormented and the harsh voices of the Yrch. For an Elf, 'twas Udûn sure. Almost was't Helluin glad of the present blackness, for 'twas a respite from visions of torment and degradation, malignant as such sights were to the spirits of the Eldar. For a moment she was't reminded of that tunnel delved 'neath Amon Gwareth, the hill of Gondolin, through which she had walked in pursuit of Tuor and Idril and the escaping survivors of the Hidden City so long before.

_And now rather than in flight from the armies of Morgoth, I go thither in search of his lieutenant for to challenge him in a contest of wits and tactics_._ Whoever would hath bethought such aforetime, or lain odds upon the chance t'would come to pass?_

Ere she reckoned noon had come and gone, Helluin was't sure she had passed a league within that tunnel. She deemed herself well within the ramparts of the Barad-dúr. Perhaps she had even come 'neath the tower itself and not just within the perimeter of its outer wall. Yet the tunnel went forward unchanged, dark, silent, and deserted, and so she had no choice but to press on.

When, by her reckoning, evening fell, Helluin was't indeed perplexed. The way had deviated not right or left, up or down, and yet onward it led. Indeed she thought she should hath come out a hole in the wall of the chasm of fire and fallen into the river of lava 'neath Sauron's iron bridge long before now. She wagered she had walked no less than eight leagues.

Then suddenly ahead of her the way was't blocked. A plain surface stood sealing the tunnel before her. She came 'nigh and listened carefully, yet no sounds did she hear. A hand gingerly lifted and lain upon the stone resulted in motion and she recoiled back, drawing her weapons and waiting. The door swung smoothly open, revealing a vista of night fallen upon the Ered Lithui. Before her the spur rose to the heights of the range proper. Her own footprints of that morning she saw before her in the dust. For a day she had walked, and in the end she had come full circle, back to where she had started out.

A groan escaped her. Indeed some enchantment lay upon the tunnel! All through her walk she would hath sworn that never had it deviated, and yet in 24 miles it had made a full circle back to its start. 'Twas remarkably subtle magick, she realized. Without any expenditure of guard or confrontation, an invader or spy would be foiled as had she. It seemed Sauron had an unexpected trick of two built into his fortress after all. Yet why build such a thing? Whyfore to such an effort had he consigned his laborers? T'would still leave need for a bolt hole and an escape route. She sat pondering this for some time in the silent darkness.

_Where 'tis one spell evidenced, surely there could be two, _she finally thought, _and why not yet more?_ Had the floor been riddled with trap-doors and pits, then she would hath accepted that the tunnel was't merely a passive aggression. Yet 'twas not so. But a simple spell could hide wholly any already camouflaged side entrance, and suspecting it not, she had easily passed it by at unawares.

Helluin sighed. Only one solution did she know. She must venture back into the tunnel, and by examining each yard of the walls with care, sooner or later discover what she sought. _No doubt later than sooner it shalt be, yet perhaps I can ignore at first the league of distance ere the tunnel dives 'neath the outer wall and concentrate thence my search upon the tunnel further within. _Being a circuit, she halved the distance of her walk. Eight leagues became four. Then she subtracted a league at the end which she now knew to be the same league coming and going. And now she was't left three leagues to search. 'Twas nine miles of tunnel, and the side entrance she sought might be not even a yard in width. She sighed yet again and strove to accept the slow and tedious nature of her upcoming labor. And then she realized that since there were two sides of the tunnel to be searched, three leagues must become six. 'Twas eighteen miles of walls in which an entrance might be hid. With a groan she shook her head and sat down in the doorway.

Now upon 29 Gwirith, (April 29th), Beinvír stood with King Anárion, the King's Heir, Prince Meneldil, Lord Aerandir, a Captain of Gondor named for one of Eärendil's three fellow mariners, and Ragnor, Deputy-Chief Guardian of Lebennin. Beside them the _Ithilduin_**¹** vigorously gurgled in its course down to Anduin, running swift with spring snowmelt. Three miles to their west stood the crossroad where the way coming south intersected the road leading from Minas Ithil to Osgiliath. Two miles ahead stood the walls of Isildur's city.

**¹**(**Ithilduin, _Moon River, Ithil_**(the moon) + **_duin_**(long river) Sindarin)

"My King, all stands now in readiness for the assault upon the city," Lord Aerandir reported.

Anárion nodded. O'er the winter the army's engineers had built many engines of war in Ithilien and Osgiliath, and now these had been drawn to the battle zone and awaited deployment to the forward positions just beyond bowshot of the walls.

About those walls stood the first division of the Army of Gondor, 25,000 knights and footmen, half the strength of that realm, and the Rangers of Ithilien, 35,000 bowmen and infantry from Lebennin. These 60,000 opposed, by their best reckoning, a mixed force of Yrch and Southrons numbering up to 30,000, though these might well hath been reinforced or reduced by traffic o'er the Ephel Duath. What their condition now was't and how they had fared o'erwintering within the city's walls, none could be sure.

"Beinvír, can'st thy Rangers take and hold the lower reaches of the way o'er yonder Mountains of Shadow?" the king asked. With a mailed finger he indicated the sickening vertical of the Straight Stair that climbed the northern arm enclosing the Imlad Ithil. 'Twas but the first leg of the ascent to the pass o'er the Ephel Duath into Mordor.

"Aye, Lord Anárion, that way already we doth hold," the Green Elf told him. Indeed they had already made exploratory forays upon the treacherous climbing height, and she herself had come beyond it, to the narrow, inclined passage above that led thence to the Winding Stair upon whose treads she had not set foot. The passage could be held long by few Men. Thither she had already placed a small company to waylay the route against any coming o'er the pass from the east. Now she would send reinforcements.

"From those heights t'would be possible to espy movements within the city, prevent any movements against us from o'er the mountains, and rain down arrows of fire while'st yet remaining outside the reach of the enemy's bows. In any case I should prefer to command the high ground rather than hath it held against us."

"I agree, O King," Beinvír said. Though such mass deployments of troops was't foreign to her, she could see easily the wisdom of it.

"Make it so then," Anárion said, and Beinvír nodded, turning thence to speak softly with Ragnor. "Lord Aerandir, order the engines forward and spread the word amongst the troops," the king told his captain, "we attack at dawn on the morrow."

A smile lit the face of the Captain. He had awaited this order since the first snowmelt.

"I shalt make it so, my Lord King."

Immediately he gestured a lieutenant over and spoke briefly to him, conveying the order. Beinvír noted that the Man's shoulders straightened and when he hurried away 'twas a spring in his step.

_Eager art they indeed to end this siege,_ she thought to herself, _and I too, truth be told, though the prospect of the fighting doth chill my blood. 'Tis a strange mode of warfare to me. My people would simply wait and watch, shooting any who ventured forth and maintaining the leaguer until all within yielded or starved. I suppose being mortal though, such a tactic would take too much time ere it bore the fruit of victory. Ahhh well._

Upon the morrow when the light of Anor softly brightened the sky o'erhead, but that blazing disc had yet to top the Mountains of Shadow, a fanfare of trumpets rang upon the stone of the valley, echoing off the high walls behind the city and shivering the hearts of those within. Ballistae and catapults were uncovered. Beasts labored in the chill morn to draw them forward. Men stood in ranks and files ready to advance to the battle lines.

High upon the Straight Stair, the first volley of arrows streaked from the bows of the many archers who had climbed thither during the night. They trailed thin streams of smoke from their flaming heads, and as their energy waned, they nosed down and fell, hundreds of them, like a scalding hail, to land within the outer walls of Minas Ithil. Volley after volley the Rangers loosed and their shooting was't swiftly rewarded by the smoke of fires. Then flames were spotted below and a cheer went up from the Men all along the stair. Those within the walls didn't even bother trying to shoot back.

Beyond the walls, the Army of Gondor advanced. Row upon row of armored soldiers marched forward, some bearing torches, some spears, others bows. Beside them rumbled forward the catapults and their wagons of shot, stationing themselves just beyond bowshot of the walls, while'st 'neath a canopy of timbers the great battering ram was't drawn hence by many oxen draped with rawhides.

When the catapults reached their designated firing positions, their booms were winched back by crews whose labor lowered the long pivoting arms against the massive weights that swung from their shorter ends. Shot was't loaded. Then the batteries waited on the order to fire, while'st beside some, Men stood ready with torches to ignite the shot. Swiftly the order came and the artillery began its bombardment; solid shot directed at the walls, burning shot directed o'er it. Flaming balls of oil soaked straw, wrapped tight about a heavy stone, flew in high arcs, leaving trails of black smoke in their wake. From within Minas Ithil's walls where fires already blazed, now rose billowing clouds as yet more buildings caught flame. Within the city t'would be a choking and eye searing atmosphere to torment the defenders.

But Minas Ithil answered their barrage. From within the city, crews of Yrch returned fire with catapults of their own. Not so quickly nor so accurately did they shoot as the Men of the West, yet from the heights of the walls their shot carried further and fell amongst the ranks with devastating effect. Indeed it seemed that, guided by malice and desire to cause suffering, the Yrch targeted the infantry ranks rather than the opposing catapults.

For an hour and more the duel continued and then the weapons within the walls slowed and fell still. The Yrch had expended their available shot and were then forced to haul rubble from collapsed buildings and break it down to proper size. Outside the walls the batteries continued firing. Now came the time for the assault upon the gate.

With a great cry companies of Men charged forward, led by bowmen, and swordsmen who bore broad shields and spare quivers, and these moved up the causeway o'er Ithilduin to within 50 feet of the walls. They concentrated their fire against those above the gate loosing deadly volleys and deadlier sharp shooting by Rangers, as all strove to clear the battlement of defenders. Yet the Yrch replaced their dead as they fell, their new archers taking up the bows and quivers of the slain, firing upon the Men below until their shields were as pincushions, thick with black fletched shafts. Many of these indeed found their marks and many Men fell, yet like the Yrch upon the walls, ever more bowmen of Gondor and Lebennin took their places and the rain of arrows from both sides fell thick as raindrops in a deluge.

Now at the third hour of the battle a clear note rang forth upon the trumpets. Then the leading bowmen advanced while'st those upon the causeway behind parted, and thence through their midst, a team of two score oxen drew forward the battering ram against the gate. Now archers covered for those who came behind to haul upon the ropes that swung the great iron ram which the Men of Gondor had named the "Fist of Tulkas".

None knew better than the engineers of the southern kingdom what was't the true strength of Minas Ithil's gate. And no gate of wood, or stone, though banded and bound in forged iron, can withstand forever a ram of mass sufficient to shiver it. So thus had the "Fist" been created, in length five fathoms, in diameter a fathom, its head tapered and rounded, and it weighed twenty-five tons. Upon a great carriage was't it driven, elevated and suspended upon heavy chains, to swing in an arc of thirty feet to a point of impact four fathoms above the ground. A crew of three-hundred sturdy Men of Gondor stood ready to haul on the lines that would set it in motion.

Now arrows flew thick as ocean spray but they bit not upon the thick rawhide that draped the great oxen as they hauled the "Fist" into position. The nose of the ram was't then two fathoms from the gate and aligned with the meeting seam of the two doors, and thither the wheels were chocked. Then 'neath a roof of thick, wooden planks, 150 Men upon either side set about heaving upon the lines, setting the ram in motion. Small was't its swing at the start, yet with each completion of its arc, ever greater did its travel become. As the Men pulled they broke into an ancient sea chanty, giving unity and rhythm to their efforts, and like the sailors of old upon the heaving decks of the tall ships of Westernesse, they sang out proud as they labored.

The Men of Gondor and Lebennin redoubled their efforts to shoot down any who appeared upon the battlements above. Yet for all their efforts, boulders fell upon the roofing o'er the ram and arrows felled Men hauling upon the lines. Heated oil splashed off the timbers or flared when ignited by torches dropped from the battlements. But for each Man who fell, stricken by a black fletched shaft or scalded or burnt, another would hasten to take his place, and all hauled as had their grandsires at the lines and rigging of the great ships of Númenor. The ram built momentum. Longer grew the arc of its swing. And finally it kissed the iron banded timbers of Minas Ithil's gate with a dull thud.

Upon the next swing the impact came as a great boom that rang 'cross the battlefield and 'twas greeted with a cheer by the armies of Men. Again the "Fist of Tulkas" swung back and then forth. Again came a boom that shook the very ground. Dust rose from the hinges and banding of the doors, and from the very masonry of the parapet above the gate, as the impacts loosened the accumulation of grit.

Stout indeed was't that gate, wrought of oaken timbers in the early decades of the dominion of the Exiled Númenóreans. Strong were the bands of iron that girded it. Massive were its steel hinges, sunk into posts of mountain granite, hard and dark as the mountains of the Ephel Duath from which they had been quarried. Yet all this was't known by the engineers in Osgiliath, for in the archives of the kings were the original designs and drawings for both of the tower cities of Gondor. Yea, the strength of Minas Ithil was't well known and the ram designed to o'ercome that strength, and as the booms of impact rang 'cross the miles, echoing out of the Ithil Vale, they were counted carefully in Osgiliath for the settlement of many wagers.

Now most had said t'would take two score strong hits, but others so few as ten ere the gate failed. Yet for the Men hauling upon the lines each booming impact seemed to sound a life age after the last. All the while arrows flew; boulders were cast and fell. Gouts of flame spouted from the splatter of the oil poured from the parapet and set aflame. Men died and others replaced them. Archers fired, shield men stood their stations beside them, and behind all were the cavalry and infantry, eagerly awaiting the fall of the gate that would signal their charge. At their head pranced the horses of Lord Aerandir and his lieutenants, yet at the center of their ranks sat the King.

Lord Anárion waited to lead his army forth, and he alone was't calm, still, and silent. Unlike many he reveled not in war nor sought the thrill of battle. He knew well his duty and t'would be done, for he was't a noble king, but far more precious to him was't the sight of his lands at peace from the high Hallow upon Mindolluin and the lore of the far off West. Far dearer than the cries of battle and the clash of arms to his ears were the voices of his wife and four children. Beside him sat Prince Meneldil, watching his father and striving in heart for the courage to make him proud. He was't then 117 years of age, yet never before the invasion had he seen battle.

Again the boom of the ram's impact rang forth from the Vale of the Ithilduin, and 'twas counted as the four and twentieth strike by the "Fist of Tulkas", and 'neath that report was't heard the cracking of beams at last. The hearts of all the Men leapt and they grasped more tightly their weapons. Horses sensed the excitement of their riders and had to be reined back. The infantry took an unconscious step forward.

Upon the twenty-fifth swing of the ram the gate was't shivered at last and the doors gave inward with a splintering of timbers ere they rebounded at the ram's back swing. At the point of impact, the reinforcing iron bands stood warped. But upon the very next striking there came a loud report, as of a great bone breaking, and the massive timber that barred the gates from behind buckled and snapped asunder. Then the doors yielded inward and gaped open a yard. Through the gap could be seen the frantically moving figures of Southrons and Yrch, preparing for the coming onslaught.

So 'twas upon the twenty-seventh swing of the ram that the gate of Minas Ithil failed utterly, torn not from its hinges, nor splintered of its planking, but rather slammed open wide, for no longer were those doors barred from within. The great timber securing them closed was't shattered and its pieces flew into the courtyard behind the gate, felling many a foe in their ruin. And then the two massive, iron-banded doors swung unstoppably apart, crushing any who stood in their path.

Now the way stood open, revealing a smoke filled courtyard, hazy, strewn with bodies, and holding a press of foemen standing with swords unsheathed and spears at the ready. The few bowmen left amongst them drew and prepared to fire.

Ere the "Fist of Tulkas" had made full again its back swing, King Anárion spurred forward his horse, signaling the charge. Now all the knights and footmen of Gondor and Lebennin eagerly followed their king, but 'naught passed through the gate of his brother's city ahead of him save only a volley of arrows from the bowmen outside the walls that cut down many of the Yrch and Southrons standing in the court behind the gate.

From the heights of the Straight Stair, Beinvír watched the charge of the Men of Gondor into the city. Those about her gave a great cheer. Looking down through the billowing clouds of smoke into the main courtyard, she spied King Anárion and Prince Meneldil in their bright armor with all their gallant knights about them, swirling amongst their foes, cutting them down with lance and sword, and forcing them ever back. From far below came the screams of Men and Yrch, the clash of arms, and the neighing of horses. Behind the knights surged the infantry, engaging the enemy with furious strokes in a close press of bodies. The Green Elf could see the frontline of the battle moving inexorably inward, through court and passage, down streets and into alleys, and ever further from the gate. The Men of Gondor and Lebennin were driving their foes before them and cutting them down whether they stood or ran. 'Twas now but a matter of time, she thought, ere Minas Ithil was't cleared of enemies and returned to the rule of the kings.

**To Be Continued**


	73. In An Age Before Chapter 73

**In An Age Before – Part 73

* * *

**

Now upon 6 Lothron, as order was't restored to the Tower of the Rising Moon, Helluin began her patient search for the hidden entrance branching from the tunnel 'neath the spur of the Ered Lithui. She marched first for what she reckoned to be a league, coming thence 'neath the outer walls of the Barad-dúr. Thither she slowed her pace, and with a sigh, began to search in earnest, pressing upon the stone to her sides and examining with her sight each yard of wall she passed. 'Twas slow work sure, and to her time ceased its count, leaving her in a darkened limbo of endless hewn stone, silence, and the unchanging touch of rough walls 'neath her sensitive fingertips. Yard by yard she proceeded, each yard identical that which had come before. 'Twas mind numbing and interminably boring, yet she forced herself to maintain her focus. A lapse of concentration could cause her to pass o'er the hidden side tunnel she sought and bring to 'naught all her efforts.

Forward she moved, at a rate of perhaps one careful stride a minute, sixty per hour, and a furlong in four. She found that four hours was't about the maximum she could maintain the intensity of focus she felt necessary to discern without question the very ordinariness of the footage of tunnel she passed through, and so after each furlong she rested her mind upon some memory ere she returned again to her task. In that way, Helluin made that first day, exactly half a mile. At the end of 'nigh on eighteen hours, she set herself down facing the direction she was't going and slipped into a waking dream of sunny fields, gentle breezes amongst a tranquil woodland, and her beloved Beinvír whistling tunes to a curious mockingbird. When she arose some six hours later she felt refreshed. Thence she proceeded again upon her way; pace by pace, subjecting each foot of stone wall to her touch, and examining each inch of rock with her acute sight.

Day after day she continued thus, a half mile a day, making thus a league plus a half mile in a week. Helluin continued doggedly upon her way, and on her fifteenth day, and that being 21 Lothron, she was't rewarded for her efforts at about the noon hour. Upon her right side, one and one-half furlongs past seven miles from the tunnel entrance, her hand passed clear through the wall into space.

'Twas as if her hand had disappeared! She withdrew it quickly and stared intently at the wall. 'Naught was't to be discerned as to anything distinguishing that place from any other. No clue as to what lay beyond intruded upon her senses. Whatsoever enchantment Sauron had employed to separate the hither from the thirther, it defied her Elven sight to pierce it. _Huh, _she thought, _the old scoundrel is undeniably proficient in his conjuring. I hath no idea of what lies beyond for no hint of it passes the veil of this spell. 'Tis but one way to probe what goes forth thither, I suppose, though little surprised shalt I be to find myself delivered thence into a warren of Yrch. Ahhh well. _

Tentatively she placed her hand back against the wall and felt nothing 'neath her fingertips. She pressed forward and watched as her hand again disappeared into solid stone. The illusion was't disturbing at the least. Gingerly did she explore the threshold, mapping the height and breadth of the doorway and nodding to herself. 'Twas in dimensions the same as the tunnel in which she stood. Then at last, drawing her weapons and taking a deep breath, she strode forward through the wall.

_Well 'tis a dungeon sure enough,_ Helluin thought, _and wherefore woulds't thou think to find hither any more pleasant place 'neath the Barad-dúr? By the Valar, what a stench!_

Indeed the dungeon stank. Worse yet was't the humid air upon which the odors clung, a veritable miasma threatening infection with but a breath. _Glad now am I to be of Elven kind, for no pestilence of the mortal world can take hold in my flesh, but still, ewww! Sorry doth I feel for any of mortal blood constrained in this wretched place. Short shalt be their abiding_ _hither ere their life fails. _Indeed many a plague waited release from that dungeon deep, and in days to come, from that place was't spread, by the wiles of Sauron, deadly diseases which swept the lands about Anduin 'till they came even so far as to Eriador.

No more pleasant to her ears than was't the stench to her nose were the screams and groans of many prisoners, long bereft of hope, and held year after year in windowless cells behind barred doors. Helluin pressed forward through tunnels and galleries, where sewage trickled in a depression midmost in the floor underfoot, and dripped from the walls and the ceiling o'erhead. Fungi and slimes adhered to the moldering walls; mushrooms and fruiting bodies less recognizable clustered betwixt the stones or dangled from the roof. Here too were spiders, spinning webs 'nigh the juncture of wall and ceiling. Newts and toads scurried and hopped in the shadows. Rats scuttled o'er her boots. And ever she heard the cries of the doomed, voiced in many tongues, rising and echoing all about.

Into one cell she peered, seeing within it the pitiful and emaciated bodies of two Men; Easterlings by the tongue in which they begged for death and release from their captivity. They had been mutilated, Helluin noted, and yet lived on by some fell and cruel power of their captor. Each of the two had been separated from their legs and arms, but these had been reversed and reattached, arm to hip and leg to shoulder, right to left and left to right. The limbs flailed of their own will, uncontrolled by those to whom they had been reattached. Indeed they oft times pummeled their hosts by chance.

For a time Helluin was't tormented by her memories of the Yrch she had reconstructed thus when she had committed her atrocities during the last war. Surely Sauron had either taken his inspiration from her, or worse, they thought alike, she and he. It very nearly made her ill to think herself no better than he. With a heartsick groan she moved away.

Some time later she peered into a gallery wherein slaves labored at the breaking of rocks to form catapult shot. They hewed at boulders, shaping them with 'naught but stones, striking again and again to chip out the desired shape, and all the while submitting to the torments of their drivers and the lash. These slaves were all mortal women, their mouths sewn shut with crude stitches, and indeed all were pregnant. Sauron was't breeding them, though whether with others of their kind, or to create some unholy hybrid monsters, she could not tell. There were hundreds of them, for the gallery was't vast and retreated into darkness upon its further end. And upon the air was't only the ever present stench, echoes of labored breathing, the sharp crack of whips, and muffled whimpers of despair.

And eventually Helluin found a hall wherein were held thralls at more skilled labors; smithying, lamp glazing, leather mongering, and foundry work. Thither was't held such of Elven kind as had fallen into Sauron's hands o'er the Ages and had thence been ruined but kept alive to serve in some sad lampoon of their skills while'st free. Ragged they were, and starved until loose skin clove yet a while to their bones. Fevered eyes, dulled by long years of foul darkness, gazed listlessly from sunken sockets o'er lips held tight set in an enduring grimace. Sheenless hair lay lank as seaweed upon furrowed brows. Perhaps saddest, their once sure hands trembled at their tasks. In their pathetic state Helluin recognized none of them and indeed wondered from whence they had come.

Then as she stood outside that barred door, it seemed that one amongst them perceived her and turned thither his gaze. Though shackled to his bench whereat he used hammer and punch to emboss a design upon a sheet of tin, his eyes widened in recognition of her. In his withered and tormented features did some trace of familiarity remain. In shock, Helluin sifted her memories for some clue as to who he might once hath been.

Helluin's eyes now widened in horror. It had been in Calenglad i'Dhaer in S.A.415. _"I pray thee forgive my trespass, m'Lady," the young hunter finally said as if recalling his manners and answering her earlier question. "I am called Halatir."_ _They traveled quickly the rest of the afternoon, trading conversation in soft careful voices. What Helluin had suspected was excessive formality on Halatir's part she soon recognized as the nervousness of a developing crush. Many times during their walk she caught him glancing sidelong at her and quickly turning away with a blush when noticed. His discomfort was mirrored by her mirth and both did their best to conceal their reactions to each other_. The young hunter of the Avari was't now but a ghost of his former self. Whence had he fallen into thralldom? From what land had he been taken?

Already Helluin bethought herself to hath failed his people. In the forest of Greenwood she had urged his folk to fight the incursion of Yrch lest Oldbark summon forth his _Huorns_ to lay low all upon two legs. They had harkened to her wisdom, yet in their final battle, such horror had come upon them that the whole folk of King Telpeapáro had absented themselves from Calenglad i'Dhaer. When next she had sought for them, they had been long gone, fleeing back into the east away from the horrors of war. Away from the violence and bloodshed. Away from her. In her heart she had condemned herself for failing them thus, and no clemency could she grant herself for that crime.

What could she do for Halatir upon this day in long belated restitution for her conduct of three millennia aforetime? If she could free him from bench and gallery, still would she be obligated to lead him hence from the Barad-dúr, and by the route she was't determined to take, never could he follow. Her way led past the Úlairi, the home guard of the Black Tower, and then the Dark Lord himself. Or could she turn and leave him thus, shackled to his bench, bereft of hope, and doomed? For long she gazed thus, 'cross twenty feet of dismal stone, eye to eye with the emaciated ellon.

Now his expression was't recovering from his initial shock. He canted his eyes quickly to his left and Helluin followed his gaze. Thither against the wall, 'nigh on ten fathoms distant, stood a pair of Yrch bearing the whips and bludgeons of slave masters. Thither stood his tormentors, he and all those about him. He winked at her one time and then slowly turned away, back to his labor, tap, tap, tapping with his hammer. A slow and useless labor of centuries no doubt, and a mockery of the blessings of an endless life. Oh how Sauron the Cruel would revel in such a turn.

Helluin ground her teeth in a growing rage. Neither could she abandon him and his fellow thralls, nor could she see how thence to contrive his escape. If she left now to continue her mission, never could she face the disappointment Beinvír would try to hide upon hearing of her decision to leave these captives to their torment. The pair of Yrch would Helluin happily slay on principle, but how then to lead to freedom those released, she knew not. Hard did she think upon her options as she stood thus outside that door, and never back to her did Halatir or any other of the prisoners turn.

But then, as she stood baffled, 'twas as though she cast aside for a moment all her expectations and intent and saw the problem afresh. The Úlairi were consigned to the repair of their beings for some time. The forces of the Black Tower were besieged and a leaguer stood about their position. Those within the tower were, no doubt, in no hurry to march forth from the gate. And Sauron would know his advantage against mortals lay in the passage of time. He would be in no hurry to press his enemies. Indeed his cause would be best served by doing 'naught. Helluin realized that she had time indeed.

So thence whyfore should she not contrive to free howsoever many of the hostages and prisoners, thralls and victims from their torment as she could? Perchance the gaolers and troops assigned hither in Sauron's dungeons were a corps apart from his regular forces and mingled with them little. Surely few of those in the tower above sought after the dismal conditions or the company of those serving so far 'neath the ground. Were she but to accept that her near future held first a trip back through the tunnel to the spur of the Ered Lithui, she could free many and thence return hither to retry her assault. And was't such a course not in keeping with her intent to wreck upon her enemy such confusion as she could? For the first time in many long days, a grin shaped Helluin's lips. 'Twas a cold grin sure, but a grin nonetheless.

A moment later the two Yrch heard 'naught but a metallic whine, and that only for a heartbeatere their heads dropped from their shoulders and their bodies fell dead upon the floor. The rebounding Sarchram continued its flight, sundering the sliding bolt that held tight the door, ere it ricochetedone last time and passed 'twixt the bars to Helluin's waiting hand. A moment later the dark Noldo slipped through the door. Thence with the Grave Wing she rent the chains holding Halatir to his bench and helped him to his feet.

"Halatir, I knew not of thy captivity, yet finding thee held thus, I could not turn away."

"'Tis a wonder to see thee hither, O Helluin, for in this place had I thought to expire. Can'st thou do 'aught for the others of my folk held thus?"

With a nod, Helluin moved forward, sundering one by one with the Sarchram the chains and bonds that constrained all those in that hall. Long did it seem to take, yet indeed she moved very quickly, and ere long had passed, well 'nigh ten and seven score Avari stood freed at last. They moved from their benches, taking with them even the most meager of possible weapons from amongst their tools, and thence turned their attention to their liberator. A wave front of bowing heads rippled through the hall, directed towards the dark warrior. It humbled her, for by her own reckoning, had she not aforetime caused them to forsake their realm in Calenglad i'Dhaer, thenhither they never would hath been held. In a grim silence Helluin appraised them, seeing that many were feeble and their march would be slow.

"Thank me not thus ere the free air thou doth breath again," she said in Silvan, "and that shalt be some time yet, I fear, for a long walk lies ahead of thee ere thou come'th 'nigh the encampment of the armies of the western alliance who doth besiege the Barad-dúr."

At her tidings, many heads shook in wonder and many tears were shed, for hope was't rekindled in many hearts from which it had fled long centuries aforetime. Indeed, most had long ago despaired in their hopes of rescue for none outside knew whither they had been taken, and their captor was't none other than Sauron Gorthaur. That despair was't as deadly a foe as the Yrch, and many had passed, giving up their lives, their _fëar_ making their way thence into the West at last. But now these surviving prisoners lined up behind Helluin and Halatir and with the Noldo moving in the fore, they made their way from the hall of their gaol and back towards the hidden tunnel.

If the path aforetime had seemed long on her way hence, then yet longer still did it seem upon her return. At each corner was't the threat of coming upon some enemy of dire concern, and yet none of Sauron's minions did they see. Still 'twas a journey fraught with terror and discomfort; the surroundings were dismal, the air fetid, the weight of a mountain of masonry o'erhead oppressive, and the echoing of screams and groans a torment. Slow was't the progress of the captives, for whom any walk further than from workbench to cell had become a great journey. Still they pressed on.

Now when at last they came to the juncture of the dungeons with the tunnel, Helluin ushered her charges through, and immediately upon gaining the thither side, the air improved and all sounds from the dungeons fell silent. Such was't the enchantment Sauron had laid upon that place that neither side's conditions impinged upon the other. Then, when all stood in the outer tunnel, breathing what to them seemed an air fresh as a forest in spring, Helluin at last let them rest and many collapsed forthwith upon the floor.

"Tell me somewhat of thy fate, Halatir," Helluin said at last. She was't seated before the entrance to the dungeons, facing blank stone, it seemed, yet placing herself thus to intercept any who should come forth from Sauron's dungeons in pursuit. Though she would perceive them not until they burst forth very nearly into her lap, still she deemed her need of attention to be somewhat less than aforetime on their march to escape.

Halatir sat down across from her with his back to the tunnel wall and his legs stretched out before him and thought back o'er the endless years of his captivity to his last free days. They had indeed been a long time ago.

"I was't taken captive with all my folk in the lands east of the Sea of Rhûn, whither we had come wandering sometime around perhaps the 700th year of this Age. I know not for certain the date, for such reckoning of time had little import to us, as thou know'st. Still, I deem we had been gone from Calenglad i'Dhaer for some three centuries. King Telpeapáro sought ever for some land wherein we might enjoy peace and prosperity, yet ever the need to wander ruled him too and oft times we would uproot ourselves yet again for some greener pasture of which he had heard some rumor. So 'twas the case then, and so we came thither amongst some of the Easterlings in their wains encamped about the shores of that sea.

At first all went well enough. Some barter we had with them, though neither of us understood the others' tongue. Still we sang and fished and constructed some water craft, and these especially they seemed to covet. We traded with them for 'nigh on a dozen cycles of the seasons ere ill came to pass.

Now upon a sudden Men came upon us, and great had they become in numbers and arms. Indeed we learnt later that these were indeed Men of a different tribe, invaders from some parts yet further east, and their aim was't to enslave all such as they could as thralls of their lord. Only later did we come to understand that their lord was't none other than Sauron, whom they also worshipped as a god. His power was't preeminent in those lands. Alas 'twas too late then for us when we learnt 'aught of it. Then we were taken and made thralls, first of the tribe of Men to whom we had fallen captive, and thence to the Yrch of Sauron himself. For many centuries did we labor in the east, but some dozen _yeni_**¹ **following our capture we were brought hither unto Barad-dúr, and thence all hope died."

**¹**(**yeni**,**_ long years,_** **_yen_**(144 solar years) + **_-i_**(pl) Quenya)

"Tell me if thou know'st, what became of thy king?" Helluin asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I saw not the doom he met, yet I hath heard of it," Halatir said, closing his eyes against the horror of that tale. He was't indeed very glad to hath not seen it. "Upon the altar of Sauron to his own master was't the king burnt alive in sacrifice to he whom we name not; calling him only the Shadow Master of Cuivienen. So passed King Telpeapáro."

_Morgoth! The King of the Avari had died as a burnt offering to Melkor_. Helluin ground her teeth in rage. She resolved yet again to someday send Sauron unto the Void, therein to commiserate until the End of Days with his foul master. _Long may they gnaw each other's bones_, she cursed to herself.

When Helluin deemed that a half-day's measure of time had passed she rousted the Avari and they continued upon their way, but ere she left, she had used such implements of the thralls which they had brought forth out of their captivity and had carven a mark upon the floor. When she returned hither, no longer the slow hunt would she need undertake to find again that hidden entrance to the Barad-dúr.

"We art now but a furlong shy of seven and one half miles from the outer door," Helluin told the Avari as they set out, "and past yonder door doth thy freedom lie, should fate favor thee thereafter upon thy way to the encampments of the army of the Alliance."

Now knowing how far thither lay their liberation, the prisoners took heart, and with their shuffling, staggering steps, made their way hence through the tunnel in Helluin's wake. For all their haste it took them still well 'nigh four hours of steady walking to come to the hidden door, and when Helluin thrust it open upon a pitch black Mordor night, the Avari practically tumbled out of the underground way in rejoicing.

They fell to the ground, that sharp and barren rock, embracing it as it were a verdant spring meadow, and they breathed the dust tainted air as it were scented with the blossoms of a king's garden rather than the brimstone of Orodruin's belching. But when they rolled o'er upon their backs and beheld again the twinkling stars, then they knew a rapture in that simplest of things so long denied. Many shed tears of joy as Helluin stood by waiting, and though she understood well their rejoicing, still to her it seemed 'naught but a trifle o'erdone. 'Twas still Mordor for Valars' sake.

Now ere they left that place, Helluin repositioned the door, and she wrought upon it with graver's tools a crude device of the Two Trees. By that sign would she easily rediscover the hidden way when she came thither again. Thence, after allowing the Avari a prudent time for their senses to come back to them, she led them away upon 23 Lothron, due south, into the night.

At their pace, the dark Noldo led them hence for three nights, covering in that way 12 leagues ere she turned them northwest. Thence another 12 leagues did they traverse, so that upon the evening of 30 Lothron they came at last upon the outermost sentries of the Dúnedain. The Men of Arnor had encamped themselves to the south of Sauron's Road, while'st the Eldar held the land to the north. The arrangement was't amenable to Helluin. She still had no intention of joining the Host of Gil-galad.

Straightaway the sentries sent word to their captain and he to the king. The appearance of well 'nigh 340 captives freed out of Barad-dúr was't a thing wholly amazing to the Men, and the presence of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel made it all the more astonishing. 'Twas a couple more hours ere they met with the High King, and this only after being provided rations which all consumed with thanks and gusto. Now when at last Helluin, bringing with her Halatir as a representative of his people, sat and took counsel with Elendil and Isildur, the Men indeed looked upon them in amazement.

"Helluin, many hath heard the tale of thy battle in yonder fiery mount, for thy friend Beinvír came amongst us ere spring and proffered tidings of thy combat," the High King said. "Ever art thou a wonder to us, fighting first the Úlairi alone and then freeing these prisoners from the very maw of the enemy. What now woulds't thou hath us do on thy behalf, pray tell?"

Helluin regarded the High King of Men and thought to herself that rather would she serve this mortal than her own lord. As to what disposition she would wish for the Avari, she was't unsure. She gave Halatir a questioning look, but he was't too o'ercome by the majesty of the Númenóreans 'cross the table to say 'aught, or to even make up his mind.

"I should think that for the present, these so recently freed should perhaps be sent amongst the Nandor of Greenwood, O King," Helluin said, "for upon a time did they too live in that great wood. Perhaps in that company they shalt be made welcome for a time, ere they decide upon what track to make their own way."

"If thou say so, Helluin," Elendil said. His folk had had little enough to do with the people of the late King Oropher, but he could understand the vestigial connection 'twixt their folk and these, however slight it might be. 'Twas certainly more of a connection than either host had with his folk. "I shalt detail some to lead them hence upon the morrow, for Oropher's son King Thranduil now orders that host upon the northern flank of the Elven Host. 'Tis a march of well 'nigh 8 leagues thither and best undertaken after rest and refreshment."

Helluin nodded to the king. As ever he had accommodated her request. Then she realized that he had claimed Thranduil now ruled the Nandor. An icy spike of foreboding pierced her heart.

"Whyfore hath King Oropher passed on his rule to his son?" She asked, fearing the worst. Indeed 'twas so.

"King Oropher fell aforetime in the winning of the Host's entrance into the Black Land. He was't slain with a company of his archers, assailed from the rear by Yrch and Tor. Much sorrow hath we all felt, yet I hath found Thranduil more even of temper and indeed less fey in battle than his father. Though by such a deed would I never hath looked to his succession, still I feel our allies of Calenglad art better ruled now than aforetime."

The words struck Helluin hard as a mailed fist. Even as she had freed the prisoners of the Avari, she had aided in the making of Oropher's doom. Twice had she persuaded the peoples of Greenwood to take up arms, and now twice had she goaded them to deeds that left them diminished and bereft of their lords. Ever she deemed she was't the bringer of ill-tidings and woe. In that moment she felt that never would 'aught that she could do make amends for the losses she had brought upon these two kindreds. Surely Thranduil cursed her name and he was't right to do so. Helluin could conceive not of him feeling otherwise. 'Twas the voice of the High King's son that brought her from her dark thoughts of self-recrimination.

"Art thou to come thence to Lord Gil-galad?" Isildur asked, speaking for the first time. "For shortly shalt we commence the bombardment of yonder tower and I am sure thy king shalt be surprised to see thee."

If Helluin had been disinclined to join herself to Ereinion's army aforetime, she was't even less inclined to do so now. With her litany of bringing to ruin all she met, she wagered that Gil-Galad would be lucky to survive her company in such fell times. He woulds't be safer without her than with her 'nigh, she deemed. Indeed the further from them all she was't, the better their chances for life, she reckoned. Therefore she made to absent herself from all their company for to continue her strategy against Sauron.

"Indeed Ereinion is always surprised to see me," Helluin said with a straight face, "whether he hast summoned me or no. In times of war I hath found 'tis at my own discretion whether to appear or not, and oft enough hath my appearance but upset my king. I am sure he hast his plans in which I hath no part, and such is in accord with my own designs, for I too hath my plans in which he hast no part."

"I see," said Elendil with a chuckle. He recalled many incidents in which the Elven King's reaction to even the mention of Helluin's name had revealed his discomfort. "So can'st thou say 'aught of thy intentions? I shalt remain closed-lipped and hold in confidence all of which thou should speak if that be thy wish."

Helluin thought about his request for several moments. At last she sighed. Indeed t'would matter little yea or nay were he to speak or not. None had sought her aforetime with summons or command ere the war, and now ere any could, should the whim take them, she would again be gone from the host.

"'Tis my intention to return thither from whence I hath liberated these Avari, and thereafter to find my way from those dungeons into the upper galleries and halls of the Black Tower. Thence, if the Valar smile upon my quest, come even to that topmost lair of the Enemy wherein skulks the Dark Lord, and settle once and for all my contention with him, leastways if he should not flee my presence yet again."

Isildur smiled broadly and thumped the table with his fist. His eyes glowed bright with the prospect of such valor and heroics.

"I pray thee, O Helluin, allow me to join in thy assault upon the Dark Lord's Tower, for hither is a deed to which I would crave to add my sword. Even to fall in such a quest would be the just wage of courage, I deem, for t'would show that monstrous bringer of evil that not all Men art thralls or unvaliant to face him! Proud would I be to represent the kindred of Men in that fight!"

At his words, Helluin groaned. Many were the reasons to refuse Isildur's offer, while'st none she could see recommended it. If the pestilence of the air in the dungeon didn't kill him, the horror would surely o'erthrow his mind. T'would be but a waste of his valor. The trick, of course would be to dissuade him without raising his ire or injuring his pride.

"O King of Gondor, in that place 'neath Sauron's lair I saw such horrors as would freeze the blood of even the most stalwart of warriors who hath not aforetime met the monstrosity of the evil of Morgoth," she told him gravely. "Yet indeed more than sheer horror abides thither. In those dungeons the very air carries such pestilence as would slay one of mortal blood. The stench of death and disease lie'th so thick upon that air as to coat thy skin in a greasy film. From the stones seep venomous slimes, and worse, fungi and pale plants deathly and unwholesome there art that waft their spores upon the fetid breeze, a threat to take hold and grow in thy living flesh. Thither too may walk the hurtful phantoms and daemons of the Dark Lord's conjuring, for I know that aforetime he hast lain sorcery upon that way. Indeed I know not all such horrors and enchantments as might appear to mortal eyes.

I dare not bring thee thither unto that charnel house, O Isildur, nor any of mortal blood no matter how courageous or steadfast in their resolve. I question not thy heart. But the One made not his Younger Children to battle thus. Such a place as Sauron hast created would become for thee, not a battleground, but rather a lethal plague house. Thou woulds't fall indeed, thy valor wasted, and thy enemy would laugh, having felled thee without the effort of raising even once his hand. 'Tis no just fate for a warrior."

Beside her Halatir nodded in solemn agreement with her words. The haunted look in his hollow, sunken eyes and the trembling, cadaverous condition of his body caused the Lord Isildur to swallow hard. If such a place could render so feeble one of Elven kind, then what indeed would a sojourn thither leave wrought upon a mortal?

"I understand," he said at last, bowing his head in acceptance. "Instead I shalt pray to the One and the Valar for thy victory, O Helluin."

"I thank thee, O King of Gondor," Helluin said. "Thou shalt hath no lack of chances to conquer thy enemies, for they art many. When Gorthaur hast tasted the bitterness of his defeat, then we shalt come together and compare our tales, and celebrate how 'twas achieved."

"Yes!" The King of Gondor cried out. "Upon that day we shalt celebrate the deliverance of all people from his long and fearsome terrors. I shalt honor and revel in thy victory, O Helluin, most courageous of the Eldar!"

As always, Isildur was't bombastic, but his intentions and enthusiasm were good and Helluin gave him a broad smile.

"And upon that day I shalt salute thee and thy warriors," Helluin said, "for by their courage they hath come hither unto Sauron's very doorstep, and hither they constrain his Eye, making yet the more possible the success of my quest. Perhaps even I shalt hath a prize for thee."

'The black mace and crown of he whom we most curse?" Isildur jested.

Helluin chuckled at the king's suggestion. Given a choice, she would relish using Sauron's own weapon to brain him with.

**To Be Continued**


	74. In An Age Before Chapter 74

**In An Age Before – Part 74

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-eight**

_**The Siege and Combat of Barad-dúr – The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now thereafter 'twas with great friendship and honor that they parted from the Númenóreans, and after conveying Halatir back to his folk, Helluin collected some rations, and desiring to minimize her time amongst the host, took her leave late that night. Ere dawn she had covered three leagues 'cross the broken plain of Gorgoroth, returning southeast towards the spur upon which sat the Barad-dúr. All along that way she was't haunted by the tidings of Oropher's death and her mood was't grim.

Upon 5 Norui, (June 5th), Helluin again opened the hidden door, for her passage this time across Gorgoroth to the spur had been direct and unhindered by doubt of the way or staggering captives and she had made good time. Thence into the hidden tunnel did she march, and her boots paced away the miles to the arrow she had carved upon the floor. She drew her weapons and entered the enchanted passage leading into the bowels of the Black Tower, and with stealth and wariness came again into Sauron's dungeons.

In utter silence did Helluin advance, knowing that her liberation of the Avari would hath been long before discovered, and indeed she realized that the time spent conveying them unto the Host of the Dúnedain stood in her favor. The intervening fortnight had given some grace to her quest, for the Yrch, never patient and ever lacking for discipline, had grown inattentive in their search for signs of the captives and any who had aided them. The heightened vigilance that the prison guards had been ordered to maintain had well 'nigh fallen as slack as it had been ere the escape. For this, Helluin would be thankful.

Now the dour Noldo took her way through many a dismal warren and gallery, but ever upwards did she seek a path. By many dimly lit ramps and treacherous stairs, slick with algae and slime, Helluin passed from the fetid bowels of the Barad-dúr. Finding her way in stealth and remaining undiscovered took her all of four days ere she traversed the subterranean precincts and first sighted a ray of sunlight heralding the morn of 10 Norui. She was't in a hallway leading from the dungeon into a gallery whose clerestory included a row of narrow windows at ground level. She could see the shadows of the legs of sentries marching past in the courtyard outside.

With great wariness did Helluin proceed into the gallery, noting that the air within was't indeed worse than what she had smelled save for in the deepest pits aforetime. 'Twas not so complex a stench now, not a miasma of pestilence, but rather simple putrefaction. What she smelled was't an o'erpowering aroma of corrupted flesh. When she came 'round the corner from the hallway and into the gallery, she instantly understood.

Upon either wall, stretching the entire length of the gallery, indeed for well 'nigh a furlong, so vast was't that space, she saw post after post upon which bodies were impaled, crucified, and some even broken and laced upon the wheel. 'Twas a collection of hundreds of cadavers left to decay, some still fresh and bloody, some moldering and sloughing hunks of gore, and some desiccated to leathery husks. Yrch, Easterling, even a Torog or two they were. Indeed all were Sauron's own troops, subjected thus to the punishments of their lord for whatsoever transgressions they might hath committed. Hither had they been left upon display to rot, the first sight to greet any soldiers entering the tower.

Now Helluin peered down the rows of carcasses, searching for an exit. Indeed she soon finally discerned several. Through heavy arches in the longer walls of the gallery, troops could come and go, from the outdoor courtyard beyond, or through a number of passages leading into the darkness of the tower's interior.

With a groan of distaste, Helluin slipped into the gallery, cleaving to the shadows near the walls and hidden by her cloak. Save for the rats, she saw no living things in that entire space. She wagered 'twas not a popular lingering place with the troops.

As she passed the cadavers, Helluin examined some of the executions. An Easterling's grinning skull regarded her from atop a crudely wrought wheel. 'Twas apparent his limbs had been shattered in several places and thence laced 'round the rim, while'st his battered torso was't draped 'cross the spokes. His ankles and wrists had been lashed in place. She noted that his jaw had been broken. 'Twas the work of someone with a lot of time on their hands and an inexhaustible well of cruelty for inspiration.

Now after a hundred yards the first entrance to the interior of the tower opened off the gallery and Helluin took it, for she deemed that choice as good as any other. Thither did a long, dimly lit tunnel confront her, and for all practical purposes, she may as well hath been again far underground. Only a few sputtering torches illuminated the way, and from the stench of their oily smoke, she wagered that they burned rancid carcass grease. All they gave was't rolling tongues of flickering orange flames that gave an unsteady light. Helluin was't thankful for the wavering shadows the torchlight cast, the better in which to hide her own progress.

As she had aforetime in the dungeons, Helluin made her way hence, flattening herself into recesses and dark places whenever others passed nearby. 'Twas almost too easy, she thought, for Sauron's minions came and went with a tramping of hobnailed boots, a clattering of poorly made armor, and much cursing and complaining. Always she went silent and wary, moving with the craft of the Laiquendi. None saw her. Even the many shades that she marked haunting the ways of the Dark Tower seemed as ignorant of her presence as the living. Several times she was't tempted to slay those who came 'nigh, but stealth was't now more important than slaughter, and so she stayed her hand. Ever she took whatever stair she found, always moving upwards. 'Twas a very long way and very slow progress, for she had no idea of the route. Thus hour after hour passed.

Now on her second day in the Dark Tower, Helluin happened upon a strange character unlike any she had seen aforetime, and she remained hidden as she watched him. He was't a Man of the Black Númenóreans, she finally decided, and from his mumbling, probably quite mad. Nevertheless, he was't the first of that people whom she had encountered in the Barad-dúr. He was't heading upwards, and since he seemed to know his way, Helluin followed him.

Now the Noldo had noted that he was't a tall Man dressed head to foot in black, with a long cloak o'er a tunic and pants. Tall boots covered his feet and calves and gauntlets covered his hands. He carried no sword and wore no armor, yet he had under his arm a curious helm with louvers slotting the face and a hinged plate o'er the mouth. In the light of a torch she beheld his visage for a moment as he considered his way, and in that wavering light she found his countenance horrific, for his skin was't afflicted with a pox of many weeping sores. Indeed to Helluin, he seemed perfectly in character with his surroundings.

Eventually Helluin deemed that he had been burnt o'er his face with some caustic juice, an acid perhaps, for his skin was't blistered and reddened, and in places mottled black. Raw lesions he had also, as she had noted aforetime, and the flesh of his nose and ears had sloughed away. His eyes were glazed and clouded as with cataracts, and his lips had been shorn away revealing blackened gums and teeth crudely replaced with outsized spatulas of steel. Helluin could only wonder what torments Sauron had visited upon him. 'Twas no doubt nothing he didn't deserve, she wagered.

Oft times he grimaced and drooled a while as he stood catching his breath, yet in the end he invariably turned and slunk into another stairwell leading upwards, and so Helluin continued to follow along behind him. Ever higher in the tower he went, never faltering but always leading her thither, and Helluin was't indeed thankful, though she would hath slain him given half a chance. Anguirél beseeched her for his blood and she could regard him only with disgust.

'Twas after some hours, when he was't met in a hall by some high ranking Orch, that Helluin indeed discerned his identity. That officer, a commander of the Glamhoth, greeted the Númenórean in the Black Speech, but some of his words Helluin could just barely understand.

"Fecal-breathed _Mouth of Sauron_," the Orch said derisively, "hasten on thy way, sluggard. The Master will feed us your arms if you're late…_snaga_**¹**."

**¹**(**snaga, _slave_** Black Speech)

The _Mouth of Sauron_ made no reply to the Orch, but grinned and sketched a clumsy bow that managed to appear mocking ere he went upon his way. The Orch hawked and spat in his wake and then hurried down the stairs in the opposite direction. Helluin smiled at her good fortune.

Thereafter she followed the _Mouth of Sauron_ as closely as she dared, knowing that his errand would lead her precisely where she needed to go. As she came closer, she noted the foulest stench she had encountered save in the deepest pits of the dungeons. 'Twas the fetid meat of his body itself, anointed with such putrid sweats and rancid secretions as his diseased flesh produced. For once she cursed the fine senses of the Firstborn and wished for what she'd heard mortals refer to as a 'head cold'.

Now even with a guide to lead her upon a direct route, the remaining ascent of the Barad-dúr still took well 'nigh four hours, so vast and tall was't that edifice. Indeed no single stair led from the tower's foot to its crown. Rather they climbed a zig-zagging progression of staircases that wound about the interior with no apparent order she could discern. 'Twas almost as if the planning had been conducted by one half-witted and ever forgetful of what had come before. Even the sizes of the treads and risers was't inconsistent. Helluin was't astonished. No tower she had ever scaled was't so chaotic in its design. She could only suppose that this was't the result of having had the construction carried out by Yrch driven thralls. Even so, the ascent eventually came to an end at last. It opened onto a huge and open chamber with no visible exit leading higher, and thither the _Mouth of Sauron _paused upon the threshold and bowed and gibbered while'st catching his breath. Helluin stood a ways behind him gazing past his form.

Within the chamber she saw shadows and much arcane paraphernalia, including many weapons and a suit of armor upon a stand. And thither, amongst many treasures laid out on large tables, stood a form, tall and black and corrupt, that could hath only been Sauron himself. She gritted her teeth to stifle the growl in her throat. He was't gazing out a tall window, surveying his troops beyond the walls of his fortress and the deployment of his enemies. For many moments he purposely ignored the presence of his servant, for 't'would hath been impossible to be unaware his presence, so badly did he stink.

"Thou art trying again my patience, my _Mouth_, for thou hast taken somewhat longer in thy ascent than was't commanded," he finally said without looking towards the door. "Hath thou tarried upon thy way?"

"O noooo, my Master," the _Mouth of Sauron _said as he edged into the room. "I hath nothing to tarry for and 'naught to do but heed thy summons. I exist only to convey thy voice. I was't delayed by a fearless commander of the Glam; delayed and subjected to insults, O my Master."

Sauron grunted at him, knowing full well that his _Mouth_ was't always late and ever trying to spread blame upon others of his servants. The _Mouth's _actual arrival time scarcely mattered to him, and so he never gave the creature long enough to make his ascent.

Helluin crept closer behind the _Mouth_ until she was't at the top of the stair, still somewhat obscured by the shadows and careful to remain hidden behind his form. She slipped on her hauberk and silently unclasped the Sarchram from her belt.

"Go thou to the Host of the Enemy and offer them terms for surrender," Sauron ordered, "and remember, thou art my voice. Bandy no words with them. Offer them no parlay. They art to leave my land at once, forfeiting all claims of redress, or they shalt die."

"Buuut my Master, I do not think they will accept such terms," the _Mouth_ said, and then grinned like a death's head. "They hath come to fight and expect battle and death…"

"It matters not what they think," Sauron snapped, "and thou art not supposed to think, my _Mouth_, only say what I tell thee to say. I care not if they accept. I care not if they fight. If they must, they may embattle those already defeated who yet linger beyond my walls. I intend to ignore them thereafter until they die. They hath no chance of taking my tower and I hath no need to go out to face them. I may sling some shot at them from time to time for my entertainment, but I intend not to stoop to combat with such a rabble. In a few decades or perhaps a century they shalt be gone from the world or they shalt lose interest in the fight. Thou hath thy orders. Now go!."

He turned back to the window and the _Mouth of Sauron_ bowed to his back, then turned to leave. He found himself face to face with Helluin.

At first he could only stare. Then he began to open his steel toothed jaws in a grimace, but Helluin flung the Sarchram, hewing off his head ere he could make a sound. She dodged the foul head as it bounced past her down the stairs, then leapt into the room drawing Anguirél. The _Mouth's _body crumpled to the floor, falling behind her as the whining _mithril_ Ring continued on its course straight for the Dark Lord.

Sauron only marked it at the last moment and barely managed to recoil aside ere it hewed his neck. The Ring flew past him and rebounded off the window frame 'nigh his shoulder, flinging sparks and shards of stone, then sped off 'cross the room. It commenced a ricocheting flight, returning to threaten him again, cursing in its cold voice, and seeking his death with bloodthirsty pleasure. With a shriek of rage, Sauron turned and faced the doorway. He was't so appalled to see Helluin that he almost forgot to duck the returning Grave Wing's next pass.

"Thou!" Was't all he could scream as he lunged for his mace.

"Yes, me!" Helluin taunted, "And now at last I shalt send thy black spirit to the Void."

He ducked the Ring's fourth pass and hefted his weapon, then hastened into the center of the room, for Helluin was't charging to meet him, blazing with Light while'st the darkness of battle lust lit her eyes.

Even as he moved to answer her threat, Sauron was't attracted to the malice that washed towards him from her; unwillingly was't he drawn by her hatred, and he craved it as he long had. _Whyfore must we forever be enemies, O Helluin,_ Sauron wondered yet again, _for in league of alliance would we soon and easily come to rule o'er this Middle Earth. Gladly would I make thee my lieutenant, woulds't thou but serve me. Never in all the Ages past hath any of thy Firstborn kindred willingly served me or my greater master, yet in thee woulds't I revel, for such darkness abides in thee as to balance all the others of the Eldar. Alas that I must seek to slay thee instead._

So at last, in the highest chamber of the Barad-dúr, there was't waged that combat Helluin had long sought. From the windows blazed forth the Light of Aman, kindled as a living flame from Helluin's _fëa_, but in deadly counterpoint to it there roiled the all-consuming black fumes of the spirit of Sauron. Helluin's brilliance stabbed outwards from the windows, flashing upon the embrasures and flickering upon the walls. The crowning battlements of the Barad-dúr were wreathed in vapors dark and impenetrable, but ever lit from within by flashes as of lightning within a storm cloud. 'Twas a clash fought upon many levels, with weapons of steel and with the power of the spirit, and a bitter fight it was't.

To those outside, watching from a great distance, it seemed a violent storm broke in the topmost chamber of the Barad-dúr. Amongst the Host of the Alliance, many thought Sauron labored to prepare some new sorcery, some fell devilry to afflict them with. A very few wondered if Helluin had indeed succeeded, against all odds, in engaging the enemy in combat at last, and these prayed to the Valar that she prevail.

Sauron wielded his great black mace, long as a ship's oar, and flanged upon its head with twelve jagged plates. In his physical form he was't three fathoms tall and stronger than the Tor who dwelt in the deep caves of the Hithaeglir. About him lay the vapors of his malice, as an all enshrouding cloak of shadow that draped about and flared out behind him like a Valarauko's wings, and from his being radiated terror.

Helluin faced him with Anguirél, clad in her blackened _mithril _armor and hauberk and barely topping a fathom in height, but her figure blazed with the Holy Light of the Two Trees. Harshly did it assail the eyes of the Dark Lord, half-blinding and confounding him. No fear of him bit upon her soul, for Helluin was't consumed in spirit by her bloodlust and rage and there remained no capacity in her to host his terror. Ever the black sword cried out for his blood, and ever the Grave Wing sang in hopes of taking his spirit as it sliced back and forth across the room.

Now Helluin soon noted that the great size of Sauron's body was't as much a hindrance to his efforts as a blessing. Having created a physical presence, he was't subject in that shape to such laws as govern all things of the flesh upon the Hither Shores. He could move but only so fast, change direction with only so much agility, and though monumentally strong, he was't constrained by gravity and inertia, and by the sinews and muscles and bones of his constructed form. Therefore, though he tirelessly aimed his blows at her, never was't he fast enough in letting them fall, and ever was't Helluin able to avoid them, dodging to and fro, even 'twixt his very feet. Again and again did his mace slam into the floor whither she had stood but a moment aforetime, or swept the air in great strokes, striking nothing.

Great grew the frustration of the Dark Lord. Unlike the combat long aforetime of his master with the High King Fingolfin, no shield had he with which to bear Helluin down, and never did she tire. And Sauron perceived that greater was't the Light shining forth from her than had been seen in the son of Finwe in an Age before, when he had been slain in combat with Morgoth before the gates of Angband, for Helluin was't both older and more powerful than the high king had been, and he himself was't no Vala.

Now eventually both came to realize that their combat could continue long, yet come to no decision, and each sought for some way to seize an advantage. Sauron contemplated forsaking his body, thereby to assail her in a more pure form, for in potency of the spirit, he might prevail. He was't still Maia and she an Elda, and greatly did he desire to defeat her and constrain her to his will. Yet to do so would make him all the more easy a target for the Sarchram. This he could not chance, for fear had seized and constrained him long ago when considering that weapon in Ost-in-Edhil.

For her part, Helluin grudgingly accepted that she might not slay him as she had hoped, and the words of her friend Glorfindel came to her from long before; _I feel his doom lies far ahead and not from the hands of the Eldar shalt come his fall._ If she could not slay him outright, then what other grievous detriment to him could she achieve?

With her own ears Helluin had heard that Sauron intended not to partake of the war. Rather he intended to outlast his enemies while'st locked within the fastness of his vast fortress, but his strategy implied an unspoken horror. The immortal Maia could well afford to wait out the life spans of his mortal foes, but what of his own troops? Yrch, Men, and Tor, all Sauron's soldiers and servants save the Úlairi were mortal. Helluin had no doubt that the Master of Cruelty cared 'naught for his own, yet they would take their own survival into their own hands long ere the host disbanded. What wealth of provisions stood laid up in the Black Tower for to withstand a siege of decades on end? No farms or gardens supplied the Black Land save perhaps far to the south where maybe some crops struggled for growth about the distant Sea of Nurnen. But Yrch, Men, and Tor would all eat flesh, and though no game wandered the Plain of Gorgoroth, nor livestock sheltered in the Barad-dúr, the dungeons were filled with prisoners and these would be regarded as meat afoot. Some that she had already seen amongst the captives were indeed breeding stock. Of all those in Sauron's service, perhaps only the Black Númenóreans might object to that diet. Helluin felt sick.

In the split seconds it took for this grisly realization to come upon her, Helluin decided that would drive Sauron forth from the Barad-dúr; forcing him into combat with the Host of the Alliance, and perhaps thereby encompass his doom. If he had no intention of facing his enemies in combat, then Helluin resolved to change his counsels.

Sauron swung again his mace and Helluin evaded him. With a spinning movement too quick for his great form to follow, she swept 'twixt Sauron's legs, taking the opportunity to slice his calf with Anguirél as she passed. As he bellowed in pain, she sheathed the black blade and then collected the Sarchram from mid-air. In three strides she dashed to the pedestal at the room's center. The Dark Lord turned to face her, only to see Helluin snatch the _palantír_ of Minas Ithil with one hand and flung the Sarchram straight for his neck with the other. Her cast with the Grave Wing forced him to dive aside with such sudden desperation that he lost his balance and toppled to the floor. Indeed he barely managed to retain his grasp on his mace.

In the time it took Sauron to roll clear and regain his feet, Helluin passed him. She bolted for the doorway leading to the descending stairs. Behind her the enraged Maia struggled to his knees but was't again forced to duck the returning Sarchram. He could only watch as she caught the Ring, leapt o'er the body of the slain _Mouth_, and fled.

A moment too late Sauron flung his mace with all his strength and watched as it slammed into the door posts a heartbeat after she'd passed. The great posts were shattered and chips of stone exploded into the air. The lintel fell and the threshold collapsed so that rubble blocked the way making pursuit impossible. Sauron's bellow of hatred shook the very stones of the tower as Helluin leapt down the stairs, barely keeping her footing as she took them three and four at a time. Though it had not been her primary goal, returning the seeing stone to Isildur had been part of her intended quest. She had hinted at it when they had last met in Elendil's tent, saying, _Perhaps even I shalt hath a prize for thee._

'Twas long ere Helluin slowed her pace. Having seen once the way, she called it forth now from her memories and made her flight down the tower directly. On the way she clasped the Grave Wing to her belt and drew again her sword. Moving in haste upon silent feet, she slew any she came upon ere they even realized their peril. And the whole way, the Noldo fought to hold back her glee. In his lumbering physical form, there was't no possible way that Sauron could pursue her down the stairs. The treads and risers had been sized for feet much smaller than his own.

Now though she fled directly to ground level, sacrificing stealth for speed, still so great was't the height of Sauron's tower that the trip took Helluin four hours ere she passed through the gallery with its broken victims and made her way again underground.

All through the tower above her a hue and cry had broken out. From the topmost chamber to the courtyard within the gates in an ever advancing wave, Sauron's soldiery took up the cries of 'intruder' and 'thief'! Well 'nigh every accursed soul in the Barad-dúr was't seeking for her.

Indeed Sauron was't livid; she had invaded his citadel, slain his _Mouth_, dared to threaten him directly, and escaped with the _palantír_. Atop all the mayhem she had achieved aforetime, 'twas far more than he could countenance, and he swore that he would catch her if he had to raze his own tower to its foundations. The malice of the Dark Lord flowed down the steps he could not tread, as a floodtide of vitriol that tainted the very air and beat upon her heart, following her where he could not, all the way to his dungeons.

Down through the foul but now familiar passages Helluin fled. Past dark galleries and echoing halls, past reeking cells and pits, hearing the rising wailing of prisoners agitated by the activity of their captors and the pervasive aura of hatred projected by Sauron. She had gone but a little ways when she realized that such desperate and doomed victims might offer her some aid, while'st she might provide a chance to them, even if slight. 'Twas not as though most had much to lose, she reasoned, and some might even find their way to freedom and escape becoming rations for the Glamhoth. So she sheathed again her sword and drew the Sarchram. Then at each barred and fastened door she passed thereafter, Helluin sheared off the iron bolts or riveted hasps, the creaking hinges or rusty locks, throwing open doors and leaving a multitude of thralls and prisoners with the opportunity to escape.

Thence did many wailing souls stagger from their places of confinement in desperate surprise, halt and lame and trailing their manacles, yet for a time liberated from their accustomed places of suffering. Their numbers were very great, for very many had Sauron constrained thither for their torment. They wrought an appalling level of confusion in the subterranean precincts of the Dark Tower, milling about in their confusion, hindering the pursuit of the guards, and befuddling the trackers. 'Twas a melee indeed, and t'would take Sauron's gaolers many a day to recapture their thralls.

Now Helluin slackened not her pace as she fled the dungeons, clutching in one hand the Sarchram and in the other the _palantír_. She ran as she had once run long aforetime, racing for to stay the Sack of Avernien at the command of the Vala Ulmo. Fleet and silent were her feet upon the foul cobbles. In the end, no Orch or Man hindered her passing and she won free to the enchanted entrance of the hidden tunnel at last.

Thither Helluin stood a moment catching her breath and listening with glee to the shrieks and cries broadcast from the dismal precincts behind her. But now she marked yet more to be heard from that direction. The sounds of confusion rose higher, for along with the yammering of Yrch, the howls of the Tor, and the cries of many prisoners, there came to her ears the deep booming and the rumbling concussions of great impacts. The Host of the Alliance was't bombarding the Barad-dúr! The siege of the Dark Tower had begun at last!

When finally Helluin made her way again from the hidden door, she stood and watched from the spur of the Ered Lithui as in the distance she saw many missiles crash against the walls of Sauron's fortress. Flung from great catapults ringing the black walls, shot slammed into masonry or o'ertopped the battlements, to crash down amongst the soldiery within. She noted that the firing was't returned from inside the fortress as well, but that whatever artillery the defenders commanded, its range was't the lesser and its rate of fire the slower. Much to Helluin's joy 'twas an uneven duel that favored the alliance.

As she watched, a great stone cast from the trenches due west of the tower slammed into the topmost course of stones 'nigh the great gate, spilling a rain of rubble down upon the iron bridge. Another shot fell amongst the Yrch encamped along Sauron's causeway.

For some time Helluin sat, chuckling as she continued to enjoy the bombardment, but as dusk fell and the host switched to fiery missiles, she gathered herself and began making her way yet again back southwards from the spur. She was't as yet unsure if she would even return to the camps of the host. 'Twas 7 Norui, (June 7th), S.A. 3435.

**To Be Continued**

10


	75. In An Age Before Chapter 75

**In An Age Before – Part 75

* * *

**

Thereafter Helluin made her way 'cross Gorgoroth, and after yet another secretive journey, came again to the ascending road upon the flank of Orodruin. Up that climbing way she went by night, shrouded in the shadow of her cloak, and moving with the stealth of the Laiquendi. With her long-standing barrier enclosing her _fëa_, not even the piercing eyes of Sauron could mark her progress. Thus she came at last, upon 30 Norui, to the threshold of the Sammath Naur, and thither, just 'nigh the door, she hid the _palantír_ 'neath a cairn of fallen tuff. _Wherefore in all that land woulds't Sauron last suspect his stolen prize to be set_, she thought, _save at the very doorway to his forge and temple?_ Thereafter she slipped away into the night and returned not for several years.

Now in truth Helluin was't somewhat perplexed, for she had expected the Dark Lord to give chase and seek after her immediately, yet he had come not forth from his tower. She could not decide whyfore this should be. He had indeed been in a rage when she had fled his presence and his anger had followed her down into the dungeons. She had wounded him, stolen his plunder, slain his _Mouth_, and freed his captives. If he had burst forth from his gate in pursuit of her, she would hath expected it and led him thence on a chase to Mt. Doom. She now deemed the Sammath Naur a place fitting to coax her enemy's clumsy and lumbering form; a place wherein to renew their combat and to force him again off-balance, and thence to fall, she hoped, down into the fiery heart of the lava that boiled within Orodruin. She could not believe that during all the following years he had not found a way down the tower stairs.

But the siege of the Barad-dúr continued with great violence for the next six years. During all that time increasingly desperate elements of Sauron's forces made sorties against the Host of the Alliance. These ill-fated attempts to break the leaguer about the Dark Tower cost many lives upon both sides and invariably ended in failure. Also during that time, the bombardment of the Barad-dúr never ceased, for what had the Plain of Gorgoroth to offer save an unlimited supply of stones? Day and night, missiles flew against the walls and the gate, while from within those walls came a limited return fire. From the nature of the enemy shot, the host deemed that the Glam had pulled down some structures within the fortress to supply their catapults with ammunition.

Another factor weighed upon the continuation of the artillery battle. The Hosts of Lindon and Arnor had spent much effort in collaboration with the Naugrim, and they had dug many trenches and many hidden rooms in the earth. Thereby these armies showed few targets to those directing the enemy fire from upon the walls. The Naugrim, who had encamped beyond the range of the catapults of the Barad-dúr, had entrenched themselves as well, for this was't standard operating procedure for their army. But the Nandor of Greenwood, still distrustful of the Gonnhirrim and unwilling to 'cower in warrens and holes, refused. The Nandor of Lórinand, though on better terms with their allies from Khazad-dûm, also clove to the wisdom of their much more numerous cousins. Thus they became far more attractive targets in their tents and camps upon the surface.

The Glam pounded them unmercifully, raining their diminishing supply of missiles most upon the Moriquendi who held the northernmost flank. Thither many died, needlessly and horribly, and oft from the clinging fire with which the Yrch painted their bombs.

Year after year it continued thus, and the Nandor stood in grudging and stubborn defiance of their peril, enduring their losses with an increasing bitterness. Also, the freed Avari had indeed been delivered amongst them by Elendil's warriors, and by their sad appearance and their tales of woe, the morale of the troops was't diminished yet further. For their part, the Avari looked on in horror at the seemingly endless carnage, and finally, in early 3437 as spring hesitantly opened, they followed Halatir north 'cross Gorgoroth and through Udûn, and finally out of the Morannon and into Rhovanion. Yet again they had seen more than enough of war. The Nandor were just as happy to see them go, for rations had begun to grow scarce and their appearance had been depressing.

Now in the late-spring of 3438, having secured the city of Minas Ithil and set the defense of Gondor in order at last, King Anárion entered Mordor with a force of 15,000. With him came his son and heir, Prince Meneldil. Then his father, the High King Elendil, and his brother, King Isildur, rejoiced in their presence and their victory, while'st the King Anárion rejoiced to add his strength to the fall of their enemy.

During those years, as the fighting continued, Helluin made it her duty to move in and about the precincts of the enemy. Amongst their bivouacs she crept with a stealth their sentries and watches could not comprehend, and she slew many in their camps as she had in Eriador long aforetime, save that now she mutilated none nor committed any atrocities against the dead. Amongst the Glamhoth and the Easterlings rumors arose of a killing wraith who came with the darkness to hew off the heads of their comrades in some silent moment, invisible and untouchable, and yet another cause for their misery and despair. They half-believed 'twas some vengeful work of their own master, visited upon them for their failures aforetime. To the average soldier, one factor only gave some scant measure of comfort; the wraith preferred to take the heads of officers. The troops took the bodies and fed.

'Twas in the spring of 3439 that the Host of Elendil, reinforced now by Anárion's forces from Gondor, deemed the time proper for an offensive. Therefore, after consulting with Gil-galad and Durin, they marshaled themselves, and upon 17 Gwaeron, (March 13th),they assailed the encampments of the Glamhoth, their closest foes.

With the rising of Anor the infantry surged up out of their trenches and charged forward, crossing Sauron's Road and falling upon the sentries of the Yrch. The shrill blaring of alarms rang out in the morning air, and the Yrch, fearing for their lives and bullied into defensive lines by their commanders, met the Dúnedain with shrieks of hatred and wildly slashing weapons. The fighting soon degenerated into a melee, for amidst the strewn boulders and trenches in that precinct of Gorgoroth, ordered lines were impossible to maintain. In some places companies of Men chased down bands of Yrch, while in others, charging masses of Glam fell upon the soldiers of Arnor. 'Twas a bloody fight that dragged on through the afternoon with no clear resolution possible, for the actions were spread across no certain front, but rather see-sawed to and fro amidst that broken ground.

Then, with the westering sun of early evening, the catapults within the Barad-dúr commenced to firing. Shot rained down amongst friend and foe alike, indiscriminately slaying any in range. 'Twas as much a hazard to the Glamhoth as to the Dúnedain, and as night fell, both sides withdrew. In response, the artillery of the Host returned fire with a pitched barrage to cover the retreat of their comrades. The attack ended as an indecisive and bloody foray which achieved little save the loss of many lives.

During the succeeding months of S.A. 3439, and into 3440, that sequence of actions was't repeated with many variations and similar results. Just as oft did the Yrch or Easterlings or Black Númenóreans probe the strength of their besiegers. Then the soldiers of the Host of the Alliance were called upon to repel the attackers ere they broke the leaguer about the Barad-dúr. Such forays were tried both with and without prior bombardments from the catapults within the tower walls, yet so far, no troops had come forth from within to cross Sauron's Bridge.

Now all this changed in late 3440. Upon the darkest night of Hithui, (November), when Ithil shone not, a fierce bombardment came from the artillery of the Dark Tower. Thence, 'neath the cover of that rain of projectiles, the massive gate of the Barad-dúr opened at last and a roiling mass of black clad troops came forth, numerous as ants, Yrch and Easterling, and amongst them strode o'er a dozen Tor.

Immediately the catapults of the Alliance answered, flinging bombs both at the walls and upon the bridge. Many of Sauron's troops died crossing o'er the river of lava, their bodies smashed or flung from the iron span. Yet many, many more won across to the causeway, and there they combined with those troops encamped outside the walls, and with bloodthirsty abandon, they fell upon the Dúnedain and the Eldar 'nigh Sauron's Road. 'Twas a pitched battle indeed and the fighting was't fierce. The count of the slain quickly mounted. The enemy pressed forward from the bridgehead and spread to either side of the causeway, slaying all who stood against them in the ferocity of their onslaught.

Now Helluin had watched as the troops marched 'cross the bridge, and she marked the presence of the Tor, and so she took up her arms and slipped forward in the confusion, an anonymous figure concealed in her cloak. She advanced into the shadows cast by the masonry of the causeway and thither she waited, unnoticed by those about her.

Now soon the heavy footfalls of those giant creatures she felt reverberating through the stones. The Tor were marching forward, not at the very head of the advance, but close behind and in support of it. They swung great clubs studded with iron bosses, or waved pikes tall as a small ship's mast. Ere they came to the thither end of the bridge, some had already fallen to oversized crossbows or _ballistae_, much like the ones Helluin had once seen upon _Valacirca_, the warship of Queen Tar-Telperion's navy. Their great bodies fell with a tremor, or were pitched from the bridge into the river of lava below. Yet more strode forth undaunted, stupid, lumbering, and fearless. Before them the Men of the alliance shied back.

Finally their rumbling footfalls came abreast of her position, and Helluin leapt forth. She was't both difficult to see, clad in her Elven cloak, and fast moving, and no brilliance of Holy Light did she allow to project. Yet with speed and assurance too great for any mortal warrior, she slew with her black sword all of the Yrch within her reach, and then she flung the Grave Wing.

Gratefully did it take flight, and in its whine its fell voice cried out for the blood of the Tor. Across a great and leathery throat did it slice, thence the neck vessels of another it hewed so that second victim spun 'round with a howl spraying all those fighting 'nigh with its steaming black blood. Yet deadly as was't the Sarchram unto the Tor, greater still a weapon did Helluin possess against them.

Wherefore in ancient days had come the Light of Anor which, carried aloft each day by Arien, burns the skin of a Torog and returns it thence to stone? Indeed the sun but preserved the last flower of Laurelin, reserving therein unto the Ages the last light of the Golden Tree. And wherefore upon that dark and dusty field stood such a well of Light as had been harvested in the noontime of the Blessed Trees long aforetime? Helluin caught the returning _mithril_ Ring and clasped it again to her belt. Then she concentrated as the remaining Tor charged 'nigh.

In the dark night of Gorgoroth, for one heartbeat only, Helluin blazed with the Light of Aman. 'Twas a flash as brief as that of a lightning bolt, such as was't to be missed in the blink of an eye though it burnt its image upon the lids. Indeed all nearby who saw it were for a moment blinded, so abrupt and unexpected and brilliant was't that flare. And when it faded, there stood, as colossi carven upon Sauron's bridge, nine Tor forever immobile and returned to the natal rock from which their kind was't first enchanted to life.

Now for Helluin, such an act was't equal to the cry of Manwë's Herald announcing her presence. All amongst the Host of the Alliance would hath marked it. She had no doubt that far to the north her king and her friends of old were aware of her. Within the tower too, a presence would hath discerned her. Indeed an increase in catapult shot from the tower confirmed this.

Thereafter she resumed her swordplay wielding Anguirél, slaying gleefully any foes nearby, but foregoing her battle cry. She had no interest in being summoned by the High King of the Noldor. So she fought on incognito, fell as ever, holding fast her ground against all comers, but alas, without the effect of her battle cry to rally those about her, the soldiers of the host were being forced back by the countless vicious rabble of Sauron. They were driven in a slow and grudging retreat from the head of the bridge, and thence step by step from the margins of the causeway. Lest she become isolated, Helluin retreated with them, holding the rear guard.

Now the faltering of the host was't marked. Therefore to rally his troops did the King Anárion come forth. He rode with his knights to the fore of the fighting. Thither for a brief moment he traded a glance with Helluin, and a smile of surprise and joy lit his face, and they saluted each other with their swords ere the combat forced them apart. Fearlessly did the king engage both champions of the Glamhoth and of the Easterlings. Thither too did he lay low his own fallen brethren amongst the Black Númenóreans, for in a duel, he took the head of Fuinur of Umbar. Yet upon that night fate turned against the younger son of Elendil.

Though he fought beyond the range of the stones cast from the Barad-dúr, Anárion stood then upon the low mound whereon he had slain the Black Númenórean. Thither he was't visible from afar and with few of his knights about him. He had scarce hewn off his foe's head when a missile was't flung from the walls of the Dark Tower. Now perhaps that stone was't enchanted, wound 'bout with spells and curses by the Dark Lord himself, for its unlikely path was't fraught with doom. It arced upwards into the dark night sky ere its trajectory brought it down, and seemingly by chance did it strike a tall stanchion supporting the superstructure o'er Sauron's Iron Bridge, from whence it rebounded again, adding greatly to the distance of its flight. Upon its further landing, it came down and struck a glancing but fatal blow upon the winged helm of the King of Gondor. He was't dead in an instant ere he even knew by what he had been struck.

From the throats of those of the host who fought 'nigh that place came a gasp of horror. Then with many an anguished battle cry, they surged forward, seeking for blood as if possessed, and they drove back the soldiery of Mordor. In those moments none of the Yrch or the Black Númenóreans could withstand the onslaught of the soldiers of the southern kingdom. Fey was't their wrath and no quarter did they yield. For the loss of their king, they would settle for no lesser redress than the slaughter of every living foe they could find. Then, while a dour company of the knights of his house stood protecting the body of their fallen lord, the remainder of the Army of Gondor surged forth to drive their attackers back upon the bridge in a rout. So ended the first foray of the soldiery of the Barad-dúr upon the field of Gorgoroth, and so ended the reign of Anárion son of Elendil, King and co-ruler of Gondor.

Now Helluin had seen the death of King Anárion from where she fought some 30 yards away. With the Dúnedain she hastened after the host of their enemies. With those soldiers of Gondor she charged forth in a murderous frenzy, Anguirél in one hand, the Sarchram in the other. Upon the very Bridge of Sauron she slew in their company. Yet ere they came to the midpoint of that span, with missiles cast from the Barad-dúr falling all 'round them, a knight of Gondor rode up amongst them on horseback and he stayed their advance, and at the heraldry upon his shield, Men ceased in their pursuit of their enemies and paid him heed as he spoke.

"Verily would I revel in the slaughter of all those in league with the slayers of my father," he cried out in a great voice, "yet not upon this day shalt we hath 'aught save a measure of vengeance, and this we hath already achieved. Hear me, O valiant Men of Gondor, not with such force as is marshaled hither shalt we win the gate or force the way into the Barad-dúr. Back thither hath we sent the foul servants of Sauron. To our own lines, I order thee now to retreat. Our day shalt come indeed, but 'tis not this day."

Then the warriors of the southern kingdom harkened to the words of the prince, for he was't now by rights their lord and king. And so in orderly fashion, the Men of Gondor marched back across the bridge and onto the causeway, and thence to their positions amidst Gorgoroth. At the tail of their companies came Helluin, with sorrow for the loss of the Man who had treated she and her soulmate with honor since their first meeting at Pelargir. Too, she felt proud of his son, Prince Meneldil, the last prince of the Dúnedain born in Númenor ere its fall, and she deemed him thoughtful and wise beyond his years. Oft enough had she encountered the rash and violent temperaments of warriors, mortal or immortal, who had been inflamed by loss. She herself would hath come against the gates of the Black Tower in a fell rage. Yet the prince had no lack of heart. He had not hesitated to ride amidst his enemies and the falling bombs upon the bridge, and he had preserved the lives of his soldiers in a moment when most would hath given in to their passions. In the restraint and will of the son did Helluin see the wisdom and courage of his father.

Now after the battle, Helluin made her way west 'cross the Plain of Gorgoroth, for she was't loath to remain with the host. She had advertised her presence in battle and all knew of her actions against the Tor. Perhaps too, word had spread of her liberation of the Avari and of her assault upon the Dark Tower. Sooner or later a summons might come from the High King, and the chance of some dismal assignment at her king's whim was't one which Helluin had no inclination to indulge. So she absented herself from the leaguer about the Barad-dúr and made her way back towards Orodruin.

Upon 25 Hithui Helluin availed herself again of the hospitality of the Naugrim and indeed she found that some tales of her prior actions had been circulated amongst the troops. Although those actions had been largely unacknowledged by the lords of the Eldar, they were known amongst the soldiers. She could almost imagine Ereinion fuming in his tent o'er her unsanctioned participation in the war. So she hunkered down with a company of the rearguard of Khazad-dûm, enjoying their board and company and the shelter of their trenches.

Now these soldiers were happy to entertain her. They had seen little action and had grown bored during the years of the siege. _In all this time we could hath at the least undermined the walls of Sauron's Tower,_ they carped_, or redirected the lava river to his gates._ As such they were greatly receptive to her recountings of the campaigns she had undertaken against the enemy. In a brotherhood of dissatisfaction, they told tales, sang songs, and ate their fill. Helluin stayed through the end of Hithui and the month of Girithron, only taking her leave as Narwain, (January), of 3441 opened.

During the months of winter there had been fewer actions at the front. Save for the continued bombardment of the Barad-dúr, the fighting had slackened through the coldest months. Indeed the battle in which King Anárion had fallen was't the last major engagement of 3440. Thereafter both sides awaited the warming of spring to take up again in earnest the war. In a way this suited Helluin just fine. She recouped her strength at the Naugrim's tables and rested her spirit amidst their company, and then with the new year she went forth to prosecute her plans. The war might draw on indefinitely, she realized, and in doing so, would reward the wiles of the Dark Lord. Too, Helluin felt the desire to redress the death of her friend, King Anárion, the death of King Oropher, and the long suffering of the Avari. All these she blamed herself for in some measure, and so with renewed determination, she sought again to force Sauron from his tower.

Atop all her prior grievances she now had the slaying of Anárion to add, for in no way was't she convinced that he had died of simple bad fortune. The stone cast that had felled him had come after her destruction of the Tor, and while'st she herself was't unseen, King Anárion had been an easily visible target. Rational or no, Helluin felt that Sauron had chosen the King of Minas Anor to balance her act against his troops.

Now up the slopes of Orodruin Helluin made her way upon the climbing road. Oft she looked out 'cross the miles to the topmost chamber in the Dark Tower and thither she saw that all was't wreathed in Shadow. Sauron was't surely brooding dark and stewing in his malice. She intended to give him yet more cause for consternation. So upwards past the doorway to the Sammath Naur she hiked, higher upon the cinder cone where no road led, and to the very summit of the Fiery Mount did she make her way.

The mountain brooded now in an uneasy quiet, scarcely fuming, and underfoot the boulders about the summit vent hardly trembled. Helluin looked down from the opening and beheld far below, the causeway and the forge and the altar that Sauron had made thither to Morgoth. All was't as she had left it following her combat with the Úlairi.

About the vent stood many boulders, strewn about by prior eruptions, and some of these now balanced precariously 'nigh the brink, for the ash 'neath them was't constantly eroded by the vibrations of the mountain's unquiet. In broad daylight, Helluin busied herself with unseating them, one by one, and for her amusement, watching them plummet down to crash into the lava lake. More gratifying still were those placed such that in their fall they struck Sauron's forge. Helluin practically cheered as one of her improvised bombs crashed into the tool rack 'nigh the Dark Lord's anvil, spilling his tongs and hammers into the churning magma below. She saved the best for last.

Upon the very rim of the vent stood a massive block of rock regurgitated from the mountain's innards; a volcanic bomb from some past eruption that had settled at what was't now the carter's lip. Big as a house it seemed and it surely weighed many tens of tons. Helluin would not even hath tried to budge it save that well 'nigh half its bulk o'erhung its footing. Erosion had chewed away much of its support. Using Anguirél's tip she knocked away more handfuls of compacted ash. Now, with an hour's determined work, reaching 'round its bulk to crumble that which yet held it thither, Helluin was't able to free it for gravity to take in its clutches. With a cry of glee she leapt back and watched it groan and shift, and finally plunge into the volcano's chimney taking a good measure of its footing with it as well.

The great boulder crashed down square upon the jutting end of the causeway, sundering the stone with its weight, and dumping Sauron's place of work and worship into the fiery pool below. Gone now was't the altar to Morgoth. Gone too was't the troll-shaped anvil upon which the Dark Lord had wrought his mace and his armor and his Ring. All of it was't fallen to ruin and swallowed by the lava. Helluin stood upon the summit of Orodruin, reveling in her accomplishment. Indeed she felt happy enough to caper like a Dwarf. Then 'cross all the intervening miles, a shudder grew to a rumble, and a tremor passed 'neath Gorgoroth accompanied by a howl of wrath from the Barad-dúr. The very mountain 'neath her feet shook and an answering roar of anger rose from within the volcano. With prudent haste, Helluin fled the summit as daylight began to fade.

Now Helluin made her way downslope in the gloaming and Orodruin shook to its foundations, for with the anger of the Dark Lord came the unease of the mountain. _At any moment_, she thought, _'twill spew forth such geysers of flame and smoke and ash as to cover all this land in a second darkness, and I should be so lucky as to stand hither amidst it. Well, Sauron shalt hath reason to curb his temper yet._ With grave determination, she made her way to the doorway of the Sammath Naur.

There, 'neath a cairn beside the door, she uncovered the _palantír_ of Minas Ithil which she had seized and borne hence from Sauron's chamber five and a half years aforetime. 'Twas evening now, and as she had when she'd challenged the Úlairi, Helluin watched the shadow of night slip 'cross the leagues of Gorgoroth, filling all that land with darkness. Upon the plain below, campfires and watch fires flickered to life amidst the host, and as the pall of night climbed the walls of the Barad-dúr, windows glowed with yellowish torchlight. The darkness rose higher and higher, until at last it touched the topmost chamber. It swallowed the abode of Sauron in the same instant it swallowed the Ered Lithui behind, and then night lay still as death upon Mordor. She took a deep breath and raised the _palantír_. She commanded it to show her a vision of Sauron's chamber.

Upon the slope of Orodruin, from the very doorway of the Sammath Naur, a _ril_ of mingled silver and gold flared forth. For the second time in that decade of war, a living star blazed upon the heart of Sauron's kingdom. Again the invader's challenge was't issued and again Sauron's vision was't captured and held. But this time, focused by the Seeing Stone, Helluin's brilliance stabbed his eye like a lance tipped with acid forced into his brain. Though the Holy Light burnt him like a thousand heated daggers searing his spirit and he shrieked in pain, he could not turn away. Thither stood Helluin yet again, torturing him and taunting him with the display of his treasure. Greatly did he desire to recover the _palantír_, for with it he could spy upon and corrupt the counsels of the Dúnedain. Far more did he desire to squash Helluin and assuage his battered pride. In all the Ages, never had he suffered so much at the hands of one of his foes.

He had been furious aforetime at her impudence and cunning, when his enemy had first dared to show herself in his land. But that had been in 3434. Much had come to pass since that night in Gwirith. O'er and o'er, Helluin had diminished his majesty. If he had been enraged then, that rage paled before his fury now. He slavered in hate and pain.

She had lied to him and promoted the fall of his host with visions of false counsel. Thearmies he had sent forth to savage Rhovanion in response had been worsted upon Dagorlad by the unexpected presence of the alliance. He had sent forth his Úlairi to capture her. She had sent them back in disgrace as naked shadows, save the one she had sent to the Void. She had invaded his citadel, freed his prisoners, slain his _Mouth_, and stolen his plunder. That she had also threatened and cut him was't almost beside the point. Their contention had begun even ere he had fled her in Eriador, for he now knew who had encompassed the defeat of his northern host upon the Lune and who had withstood him in SA 1600.

Long now 'twas the litany of transgressions she had added to her tab o'er the years. And tonight she had flaunted all before him. Surely every eye amongst his enemies had seen his dishonor at her hands. Every ear had marked his cry of pain. She had disgraced and mocked him. She had made him the lesser before his own host. He still cared 'naught for the rabble of the Alliance, but to smite his greatest living enemy, Sauron would finally come forth. From his tower window he shuddered with relief as the star dimmed and the Light winked out. So too watched every eye in Mordor, friend and foe alike.

Many eyes far from the Barad-dúr had also seen that challenge. In each of the _palantíri_ of Gondor and Arnor, a custodian marked the vision. Thither had come a vista of Mordor, but 'twas haloed in the Light of Aman. They understood it not, yet sensed the doom it portended. But far away, beyond Belegaer and the curved airs of the round world, upon Eressëa wherein the master stone abode, Eldar of the High Kindred of the Noldor viewed the vision and held their breath. Tonight one of their own again challenged a Maia, the most fell being in all of Middle Earth. Yet even they stood not alone in their far seeing; other eyes had seen as well; eyes that needed no _palantír _and blazed with sapphire brighter than Helluin's own.

"They meet too early, for she is doomed to live and he as well…and the time of their final combat is not be ere the Ending of Days. Thy indulgence of her aforetime 'neath the Trees hath led to this pass, I deem," Manwë remarked to the Lady of the Stars. She gave Him a grin.

"All that hath come to pass was't surely in the Song, and I, as ever, am blameless."

"'Tis for the sake of the Song that I must put a halt to this," the Elder King said, trying to sound grave as He gestured towards the Hither Lands.

Much as He tried He couldn't keep the hint off a grin from His lips. Both He and His Lady had found joy in the sight of Helluin standing 'neath the Trees, and never had He been able to hold any cause for displeasure with the Lady. 'Twas as hopeless as stilling the sea

"_Linnat en an Nároya Oron! Á túcas an i Arta Elenion!_**¹**_" _His great voice rang out from the _Máhanaxar_**²**.

**¹**(**Linnat en an Nároya Oron! Á túcas an i Arta Elenion! _Go ye thither to Fiery Mountain! Deliver her to the Citadel of Stars! linna-_**(go) + **_-t_**(2nd pers imp, _you_) + **_én_**(there!) + **_(a)n_**(to) + **_náro_**(fire) + **_-ya_**(adj on n suff, _-y_) +**_ oron_**(mountain). **_Á_**(3rd pers imp) +**_ túca-_**(bring) + **_-s_**(3rd pers obj pro suff, _her_) + **_(a)n_**(to) + **_i_**(def art, _the_) + **_arta_**(fortress) + **_elen_**(star) + **_-ion_**(pl gen suff, _of_) Quenya)

**²**(**Máhanaxar, _The Ring of Doom_** Quenya)

"_Tyáruvas!_**¹**_" _A faithful vassal replied ere he hastened east from the Pelori with a rush of wind.

**¹**(**Tyáruvas,_ It will be done! tyára-_**(do) + **_-uva_**(fut v suff) + **_-s_**(3rd pers sing pro suff, _it_) Quenya)

"There, see thou? 'Twas a simple problem simply solved," the Lady said, "I knew thou could do it."

Her tone mocked that of a patronizing courtier and belied Her absolute faith in Him. It melted Him like a pad of butter, just as She had done ere Ea was't dreamt in the Void. He took Her hand in His and softly brushed Her knuckles with His lips, then entwined their fingers.

"Come," He said, "let us watch." They shared the laughter of anticipation with Their eyes.

Now Helluin waited in the shadows 'nigh the threshold of the door to the Cracks of Doom, and as she had aforetime, she surveyed the night. Below upon the Plain of Gorgoroth lay the Host of the Alliance. About the walls of the Barad-dúr encamped the enemy. She could feel the seething malice and rampant fury that radiated from the Dark Tower, wherein her foe prepared himself at last for battle. Almost, she could see Sauron donning his armor and settling o'er the black and tempered steel of his gauntlet the One Ring. She could feel too a wariness in the host of the allies, as if some visceral premonition had swept the bivouacs, setting upon edge the hearts of all who bore arms. Like animals who sense an approaching storm, Men and Elves and Dwarves readied themselves for the turmoil to come.

_At last, _Helluin thought,_ at last thou dare'st come. Let us meet then, one last time._

**To Be Continued**


	76. In An Age Before Chapter 76

**In An Age Before – Part 76

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-nine**

_**The Fall of Sauron and the Taking of the Ring – The Second Age of the Sun**_

Now of the deeds that followed, much hast been written and many tales told. Many scrolls of lore were long preserved and much knowledge was't held by the Wise. Yet much too was't forgotten, of deeds and heroism, and in the recounting of the grave events of that time, the tale of a solo warrior of the Noldor faded from recall. Few enough even in that time knew 'aught of her private battles, and in comparison with the grand armies and the high drama of the final resolution, her deeds became invisible. And so history remembered little of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, of her strategies, her tactics, or her impact upon the eventual victory. Yet the doings of that time laid the doom of all the Third Age.

Upon the barren land of Gorgoroth was't the most historic battle of the Second Age fought. In coming forth to answer Helluin's challenge did the Lord of the Black Land empty his tower. All his minions and soldiers, all his servants and allies, all came forth save only the shadows of the eight remaining Úlairi. Sauron drove them all to war with but one commandment, _Clear my way to the Sammath Naur! Drive thy enemies hence unto their deaths or to thine own deaths shalt I deliver thee! My enemy awaits me!_ And Sauron's soldiery fought with every desperate measure of viciousness and ferocity within them, for the fear of their master 'twas the greater and lay heavy upon them.

Now at first they swarmed 'cross the iron bridge as a tidal wave surging from the gate of the Barad-dûr. Yrch, Easterling, Black Númenórean, and Tor, they came forth and won free of the causeway. Thence outwards they spread their front, driving back the Host of the Alliance, for far greater in numbers were they than had been expected. The Dark Tower had hosted a multitude of foes, and now all these were deployed and marshaled to the battle. Men, Elves, and Naugrim desperately fought to stem their advance.

For seven days the fighting spread as the allied armies pulled back and sought to regroup. In that time Sauron's Host gained ground, yet as the front of battle widened, their momentum decreased. With the passing of that week their advance stalled. Battle lines held, trenches were dug, and the armies maintained their positions through a continuing series of contests.

Now in all these doings, Helluin took no part. Though the offensive from the Barad-dúr was't instigated of Sauron's rage against her, Helluin had been removed from the war. Quite against her wishes, she was't absented from the conflict; indeed she was't absented from Mordor itself, dragged kicking and screaming from Orodruin and deposited beyond the Ephel Duath. There she was't constrained and returned not for Sauron's fall.

Upon the very night when she had issued her last challenge to the Dark Lord, Helluin had awaited his coming upon the threshold of the Sammath Naur. She intended to tempt her enemy to do battle against her within the fiery mount itself. Thither upon the causeway o'er the lake of fire, whereupon she had battled the Úlairi aforetime, she intended to engage him and befuddle him, and by degrees degrade him, until such time as she could contrive to throw him down and bring about his ruin with a fall into the lava far below.

T'would consume his miserable carcass, his foul spirit, and his One Ring forever. By investing thus his trinket with such a measure of his spirit and his will, Sauron had invited the same vulnerability upon himself. Were the Ring to perish in the fires of its forming, he too would perish thither as well. He had debased and demeaned his once Imperishable Flame by binding it to the flames of Orodruin.

Having bound herself to the Sarchram, Helluin had come to viscerally understand this spiritual linkage where even the Elven Wise had not. In his folly, Sauron had wrought his Ring of gold, not of _mithril_. Pure gold was't soft whereas _mithril_ was't not; gold and its alloys could be melted and poured into molds, while'st _mithril_, once refined from its ore, melted not under any fires to be found in Arda. It could be annealed, drawn, hardened, tempered, polished and quenched; it could be forged, but not cast. Alloying of _mithril _was't done either in the initial process of refinement or by the laborious folding and refolding of an annealed ingot. Great indeed had been the craft of Gneiss son of Gnoss.

Not in that time did Helluin deem ironic the shift in her purpose o'er the years, for she had come thither unto Mordor with no intent of facing Sauron Gorthaur.

_Not to face Sauron do I go, meldanya, nor to exact vengeance upon him. Long ago our friend Glorfindel spoke with foresight saying that not from the hands of the Eldar would his ruin come. This I believe, for somehow I feel the truth of it. Nay, I seek not the root of the evil, but rather its servants. _Thus had she spoken to her beloved in the fall of 3433, and indeed for long, such had been her mission. Yet o'er the years she had again been caught up in the fighting and the needs of prosecuting most expediently her campaign. And so now she had come to her current state; eagerly awaiting a confrontation any other upon Middle Earth would hath fled. Beinvír, of course, would hath been wroth with her.

Now in the fourth hour past nightfall there came up from the south a rush of wind in the darkness. Helluin turned thither her eyes and beheld a shadow blotting out the stars and making its way towards her. 'Twas vast and soaring high, and for one moment she saw its silhouette against Ithil's face, wherefrom came an argent beam that glanced upon a pearled beak. _A_ _Great Eagle of Manwë_, she thought, _come as witness to the combat. 'Tis not oft that a Maia shalt fall._

Though he flew too high in the dark for even her eyes to see for to reckon his name, she bowed her head. She was't not surprised that his course brought him hither so that he circled Orodruin on silent wings, spiraling down from the high airs.

The Eagle landed and perched upon the lintel stone o'er the doorway, while'st Helluin stood before him beyond the threshold with head bowed in reverence. The Eagle regarded her as he settled his feathers, tilting his head slightly to favor each eye in turn.

"_Áye, Heldalúne Maica i móremenel," _said the Eagle, _"Lúmetya ohtatyára tellenás an sí._**¹**_" _

**¹(Áye, Heldalúne Maica i móremenel. Lúmetya ohtatyára** **tellenás an sí. _Hail, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel. Your time to make war (it) is finished for now. _****_Áye_**(hail!) + **_Heldalúne Maica i móremenel_. _Lúme_**(time)**_ + -tya_**(2nd pers poss suff, _your_)**_ + ohtatyára_**(inf v, _to make war_) + **_tele-_**(finish) + **_-lle_**(imperf past v suff) + **_ná-_**(is) + **_-s_**(3rd pers sing obj pro, _ittime_) + **_an _(**for) + **_sí _(**now) Quenya)

At his words, Helluin's head jerked up in astonishment. She simply stared at the Eagle in disbelief, her eyes wide and her mouth frozen partially open. 'Twas absolutely the last thing she had expected to hear. Had he not been a holy messenger from Aman she would hath considered slaying him and going back to her waiting. Yet indeed he was't just such a messenger, and worse, not just any such messenger. For many moments she could contrive 'naught for a reply. When she finally spoke, she began with a protest.

"_Áye, Sorontar!__Aiquen ni hequa ná tyára i atalante Saurono, san man?_**¹**_" _

**¹**(**Áye, Sorontar! Aiquen Ni Hequa ná tyára i atalante Saurono, san man?_ Hail Sorontar! (lit trans) If anyone excluding me is to cause the downfall of Sauron, then who? (ver trans) If I am not to slay Sauron, then who? áye_**(hail!) + **_Sorontar_**(**_soron_**, eagle + **_tar_**, king) + **_aiquen_**(if anyone) + **_ni_**(1st pers indep pron, _I, me_) + **_hequa_**(excluding) +**_ ná-_**(is) + **_tyára_**(inf v, to cause) +**_ i_**(def art, _the_) + **_atalante_**(downfall) + **_Sauron_** + **_-o_**(gen suff, _of_) + **_san_**(dem pron, _then_) +**_ man_**(int pron, _who_) Quenya)

"_Úquen,_**¹**_"_ the great Eagle said.

**¹**(**_úquen_**(nobody) Quenya)

If Helluin had thought it possible for him to chuckle with his beak he was't surely doing so at her shocked expression.

He rose up as if to take wing and Helluin thought his embassy done, but rather than flap off, back to Aman, he seized her up in his talons and suddenly the ground was't falling away, dropping off 'neath them at a sickening rate. 'Twas totally unexpected. 'Twixt _Thorondor's_**¹** ascent and the slope of the mountainside, the Noldo was't two furlong up ere she could even think to resist.

**¹**(**Thorondor, **Sindarin translation of Quenya **Sorontar**)

"What art thou doing? Let me down! Sorontar, he is coming, Sauron is coming at last and I alone can'st send him unto the Void!"

Helluin accompanied her pleas with such struggles as she could muster, but she was't pinioned in the great talons of the King of the Eagles and could scarcely move. When she became too active he merely gave her a squeeze and drove the breath from her.

"Thou art kidnapping me, O thou great buzzard! Return me thither, I demand it!"

All the while they were rising through the night, high up into the sky ere they wheeled to the west. The miles of Gorgoroth passed below. Helluin deemed he was't taking his time, making many circles and riding such thermals as he could find. Wheresoever they were headed, he was't obviously in no hurry.

"If thou doth not return me straightaway I shalt surely pluck thee bare! I shalt stuff thee like a capon." The Eagle was't unimpressed and Helluin knew her threats were empty.

Thus upon the night that Sauron finally resolved to come forth from the Barad-dúr, the great Eagle winged his way west clutching a vigorously complaining Noldo. She kicked and cursed like sailor. He chuckled. 'Twas a sight denied to all other living things, but one he would not soon forget.

Eventually, as the night grew old, Thorondor wheeled down in graceful spirals, and Helluin could discern 'neath them the great river, Anduin, scintillating with Ithil's kiss. For all their hours spent aloft, he could hath flown to Eriador. Instead, Cair Andros passed below and they followed the river south, gliding ever lower.

Finally, but an hour ere dawn, the Eagle swooped down, barely clearing the bridges spanning Anduin 'twixt either bank of the city of Osgiliath. He made his way slowly now, wobbling just above stall speed, past quays and warehouses, past public parks and many homes. Thence to the precinct of the palace he flew and once circled the Citadel of the Stars. The tips of his wings well 'nigh brushed its dome. 'Neath them the soldiers on watch remarked upon their passing with excited cries and much pointing and waving. 'Twas not oft they saw an Eagle.

"Take me back, O thou o'ergrown squab," Helluin demanded, "Still there is time for me to meet the Lord of Lies and rid forever this world of his evil."

The bird wheeled back o'er the river.

"Art thou deaf? Hath thou heard not a single word I hath said?"

"_Namárie_," the Eagle said as he released her and flapped to regain his altitude.

Helluin fell like a stone and with a great splash, landed in the river.

She came up sputtering and furious and shooting daggers of blue fire from her eyes, but by the time she marked the path of Sorontar's flight, he was't little more than a black speck disappearing into the south. From the shudders of his wings she knew he was't ruled by hysterics.

Although frustrated beyond all measure and having arrived in the most undignified of manners, Helluin's appearance, bearing tidings and the _palantír_ of Minas Ithil, 'twas cause for great celebration. The Dúnedain rejoiced in her. She could barely refrain from chewing off their heads. She was't hoisted from Anduin soaking wet and seething. They carried her upon their shoulders to the palace.

In place of any royalty to greet her, she found Lord Aerandir, the Captain of Gondor, and Ragnor, the Chief Guardian of Lebennin. Thither too were many other officers of Gondor and Lebennin. She huffed and chaffed at first, finally presenting her tidings of the war o'er steaming tea and some seeded cakes. When she set out the sodden rag containing the _palantír_, they dispatched messengers. Neither of them woulds't touch it.

Perhaps an hour later, as Helluin's patience grew ever thinner, the King's Custodian entered the chamber to take temporary possession of the Seeing Stone ere it could be returned to the City of the Moon. To her amazement, he insisted upon writing her a detailed receipt. She stared at him; she was't still soaking wet and had not a dry pocket to her name in which to stow it.

"Whatsoever should I hath need of such as this for," she groused, holding up the parchment and waving it back and forth. "'Tis not as if I were a merchant selling thee a trinket at market. 'Tis by all rights the property of the king; I merely return it to him."

"Even were thou but a messenger I should proffer thee proof of the exchange," the custodian said, "but as thou hast recovered at great risk a thing of great value taken by the Great Enemy as a spoil of the great war, thou art due a great reward, O Helluin."

The elleth rolled her eyes. 'Twas 'naught but what any soul with a shred of decency would do. Aside from this, she was't out of patience with messengers that night.

"In lieu of a reward, I should like a change of dry clothes," she said, "then I should like a bath of heated waters, and I should like word sent thither to Beinvír, Laiquende, should she still remain in these lands. Thereafter I should be grateful for some cloth and oil for to attend to my weapons and armor." She looked inquisitively to those about her.

The Men first stared at her in surprise, then hastened to fulfill her requests.

Some time later, submerged in a voluminous steaming bath scented with rose petals and with 'naught but her face above the surface, Helluin muttered to herself as she brooded.

"All of Aman shalt be rolling upon the floor with laughter at what hast come to pass this night, I wager. If not with the direct sight, then I am sure the tales of that buzzard upon his return shalt make me the laughing stock of all Valinor. Indeed I should count myself lucky now to be saddled with my doom. For all the Ages shalt I escape the snickering of the Blessed Realm. Ahhh well." She was't as deeply immersed in her angst as in her bath.

Scarcely 'twas Helluin prepared for the immense splash as a body dove into the tub beside her. For the second time that night she came up sputtering and choking, with nose and throat filled with water. She desperately blinked to clear her eyes as she hacked up a mouthful of suds and a couple of rose petals.

Ere she could clear her vision, Helluin found herself snatched into the arms of the slender elleth who burst up out of the bath beside her. 'Twas Beinvír, slinging water o'er the floor as she shrieked with joy and actually lifted Helluin clear out of the bath in the circle of her embrace. She was't bouncing and sloshing and plastering Helluin with kisses. If the Green Elf had ever been so happy she couldn't remember when. The Noldo found herself more thoroughly immersed in the aura of love that surrounded her than she had been while'st submerged in the water a moment before. The warmth that penetrated her heart outshone the heat of the tub, for it warmed her from the inside. If Helluin had been morose aforetime, she was't ecstatic now. She twisted around and clasped her arms 'round her partner; Sauron, the Eagle, and the war completely forgotten.

With a splash the two crashed back down into the tub, Helluin stark naked, Beinvír completely clothed. Neither noticed. 'Twas for them in those moments no world save that which existed in each other's gaze. Almost a line of fire connected the two, eye to eye, heart to heart. After almost 7 years apart, their meeting was't as a flaring of Anor upon a morning of summer. Without even being aware of it, their lips met in a kiss, long familiar and long missed. Eyes slipped closed and their spirits communed. The fire inside them blended in a _ril_ of silver and gold that glowed forth from their forms upon the physical plane, while'st upon the plane of the spirit, their _fëar_ joined, renewing an eternal union. 'Twas as if without conscious touch or thought, they drove each other to the heights of climax and remained in that state as time disappeared. About them the water shone with a glow that reflected the luminescence in their hearts…indeed small bubbles formed as the temperature rose from the outpouring of their energies, and soon 'twas too heated for either to abide thither in comfort.

Still clasped together in their embrace, they fled the tub as steam rose from the now 'nigh scalding water. Then long they stood thus, arms entwined about each others' bodies, lips locked together. So long did they remain thus, that the bath cooled again to an acceptable level.

With fingers graced by Elven deftness, Helluin quickly divested her lover of cloak, tunic, leggings and boots, then lifted her back into the tub and settled the Green Elf sideways across her lap. There she held her, letting her lips rest upon the crown of her head. In utter contentment, she slowly became aware of their synchronized breathing and the beating of their hearts. Sometime much later she flirted with the idea of forgiving the Eagle, while'st Sauron she would deal with another day.

Now in the days that followed, great events went forth in the land of Mordor. There was't a battle fought upon Gorgoroth and upon the slopes of Orodruin that determined the course of the next Age. Yet for Helluin and Beinvír the world beyond them faded to grey and they heeded it little while'st rejoicing in each other.

The Host of the Alliance fought on and eventually they had the mastery. Yrch, Easterling, Tor, and Black Númenórean, all fell before the armies of the allies. Elendil and Isildur and Prince Meneldil inspired their Men to great feats and prowess. The Eldar fought as they had in the First Age while engaging the minions of Morgoth in Beleriand. The Naugrim marched forth in their companies, hardy and ferocious, and they drove before them all their foes. Soon it seemed, the forces of the Dark Lord would be broken and their numbers slain or scattered. Perhaps one more great victory lay between the Alliance and conquest.

Then at last Sauron came forth from the Barad-dúr. Whether to meet Helluin or for redress of the slaughter of his soldiery, none can tell for sure. 'Tis known that after his initial onslaught with his black mace, he drew after him the greater number of the allied forces, and he led them hence from the precincts of the Barad-dúr unto his goal, the fiery mountain Orodruin.

Thither upon the slopes of the quaking volcano he fought, and in combat he worsted the heroes of the alliance. Thither was't Ereinion Gil-galad slain and Elendil too, and the sword of the High King of Men, broke 'neath him as he fell. Long the principals contested, wielding first their weapons, Narsil and Aeglos against the Black Mace, and then wrestling afterwards with bare hands. Many were the wounds they bore, from gash of sword, puncture of spear, impact of mace, and scorching from contact with Sauron's body. Many other brave warriors of the Eldar and the Edain fell upon that day, their bodies broken and their blood spilt. Great upon that day was't the heartbreak of the Host of the Alliance. Yet in the end, as so many stories hath told, 'twas Isildur who, coming to the comfort of his fallen father who had taken fatal hurt while'st throwing down Sauron upon his face, took up the hilt shard of Narsil and hewed from the Dark Lord's hand his One Ring. Rather than rising again from his knees to do battle, his black armor fell into scales of rust and his spirit dispersed in a flash of exploding vapors.

With that loss was't the power of Sauron broken, and in the separation from it was't he diminished for that time. Down fell the empire he had created by its power, for its power 'twas his own. Yrch, Tor, Easterling, and even such of the Black Númenóreans who still survived felt themselves bereft of will and purpose. Some slew themselves in despair. Some fled in terror. And some few fought on to their deaths, without hope, but retaining some shred of their honor and pride as warriors. But Sauron, their base master, was't dispersed as a foul scent before a strong breeze, for with the loss of the power of his Ring, his form was't riven to dust and blew away upon a cold wind. And yet he was't not destroyed at the last, nor was't his spirit commended unto the Void.

Isildur then claimed the One Ring, for in his ruin Sauron's armor had fallen away, crumbled and empty and hollow, 'nigh where the Elven king and his father had fallen. Isildur clasped it in his hand and felt a searing pain as it burnt his mortal flesh, but also in that first moment, the flaring of a desire already kindled long aforetime. Even ere he separated it from the black gauntlet that had sheathed Sauron's hand, it called to him with a fell whisper that touched his heart. And as he had long aforetime in an encampment 'nigh Calenglad i'Dhaer, when first the question of the Ring had been discussed, he pondered the possibilities its possession might confer.

Now Isildur held the One Ring in his hand, and though the pain was't a constant torment, 'twas he that had slain Sauron, and 'twas he that had taken it as spoil of combat, not Helluin. Whether she had indeed come to battle with the Dark Lord in his tower, she had not o'ercome him thither, and in the final battle she had not appeared. Indeed like many in the host, he believed her fallen before their Enemy. It saddened him, for greatly had he admired her; her courage, her prowess, and her beauty.

Thereafter, though he followed Elrond up the climbing road and into the Sammath Naur, Isildur had already been greatly tempted to retain the Ring. When it came to the moment of truth in which he was't forced to decide that trophy's fate, he made up his mind, and though he claimed it as weregild for his father and his brother and as a spoil of war, he had become enamoured of it for its own sake. He was't resolved that he would possess it until his dying day, for unto him, it had become precious.

In that time the Eldar, and the Lords Elrond and Glorfindel most, felt a dark prescience fall upon their _fëar_, for they reckoned an evil had been allowed to endure. So long as it persisted, there existed the chance that some other of evil will might arise to wield it. Of all the host, only Durin deemed Isildur right in claiming such a mighty talisman of his victory, and he too would come to doubt his feelings.

Now as the highest ranking Dúnadan still living, King Isildur remained for some months in Mordor, and with Glorfindel and Elrond and the wrights of Durin IV of Khazad-dûm he o'ersaw the razing of the Barad-dúr. To convey the tidings of their victory, he sent back to Gondor most of the army and his nephew, Prince Meneldil.

Now great was't the rejoicing in Gondor upon the return of the prince. Men throughout the kingdom celebrated, yet their celebrations were tainted with sadness, for fallen were Elendil the High King, and Anárion, their own lord. There too had fallen many knights and men at arms, and many families were now bereft of a son or a father.

Helluin and Beinvír too could take little joy in the celebrations. Though she had ever been at odds with him, and he ever suspicious of her, the loss of Ereinion Gil-galad, son of Fingon, struck Helluin more deeply than she would hath expected. Perhaps 'twas that in his death there came in Middle Earth an end to the direct line of the Noldorin High Kings of the House of Finwe, her first lord.

By right of descent the chief of that house 'twas now Elrond _Peredhel_. He would never be a High King to Helluin. Though some measure of the blood of Finwe indeed flowed in his veins, he was't much too far her junior in all respects. A great loremaster and healer he had become, Vice-regent of Eriador and Herald of Gil-galad upon Dagorlad and Mordor, and she would ever consider him a friend, but she had seen the Light of the Two Trees and lived o'er 4,500 years ere his birth. Helluin was't Amanya, a true Calaquende or Elf of Light, and the eldest of that kindred now living in Middle Earth**¹**. What Elrond knew as lore, Helluin had lived. Serving Ereinion had been stretching a point; she would not serve Elrond. Now, at the age of 7,957 years of the sun, Helluin was't for the first time without a lord. In her heart it brought home yet again the fading of her people.

**¹(**Indeed of all the Quendi upon the Hither Shores whose names hath come down from that time, only Círdan could claim a greater age.)

For Beinvír too there was't sorrow and loss in Prince Meneldil's tidings. The death of King Anárion, who had welcomed her and accepted her service as Commander of the Rangers of Ithilien, was't a hard blow. The younger brother of Isildur had been a Man she had come to like and respect. He had been less brash and apt to seek after glory than his elder brother, but he had been no less courageous or determined. Ever he had treated her with respect though she be Moriquende. He had valued her counsel, her wisdom, and her honor, and though ever a gentleman, he had always been subject to her charms and beauty as well, oft softening his tone when they spoke or offering her good-natured compliments. At the same time, he had never acted in a patronizing fashion. Despite her stature and gender, he had been from the first well aware that in a duel she would hath easily bested him; he had respected her as a warrior while knowing that that role had been distasteful to her. Even though Beinvír had long before accepted that one day Anárion would die, she had hoped to enjoy his friendship for many more years.

And both of the ellith felt the loss of the High King Elendil. In him Helluin had seen again the nobility of the mortals she had befriended and respected millennia before, Hurin, Huor, Tuor, and Eärendil. In him the honor of the Edain of old had been reborn before her eyes. To the two Elves, Elendil had recouped the losses of the kindred of the Dúnedain through all the generations of the fallen kings of Númenor. He had been the resurrected promise of that people. But aside from his role as a symbol, Elendil had welcomed and honored them from their first meeting. He had conducted himself as an ally, a friend, a gracious host, and a thankful benefactor. Never in all his years had he slighted either of their peoples, the High Elves or the Green. He had ever treated both with honor so far as his knowledge had allowed, for he retained that reverence for the Elder Children of Ilúvatar that was't first formed in the days of old when Finrod Felagund had taken the First House of the Atani under his protection and their chieftain Balan had taken the name Bëor and served him as a vassal.

_Never in this Age shalt his like come again,_ Helluin thought sadly, and yet, in this belief she was't wrong, though tall grew the trees and many kingdoms fell ere her error was't proved.

Now when the initial celebrations had finished and Prince Meneldil had brought order to the realms of Gondor and Lebennin, Beinvír relinquished command of the Rangers to Ragnor, and with Helluin the two took their leave of the south kingdom wherein they had fought. Sauron was't defeated and they had seen enough of war for that time. And so in the year 1 of the Third Age of the Sun, they made their way again to Eriador and home.

**To Be Continued**

10


	77. In An Age Before Chapter 77

**In An Age Before – Part 77**

**Note:**_The author wishes to thank Placidia for her aid in beta reading this installment._**

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**Chapter Fifty**

_**Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun**_

"Much as we should wish it, he is not utterly destroyed," Helluin grumbled as she paced beside Beinvír on the road 'twixt Tharbad and Sarn Athrad. She still oft times chaffed at her treatment by the Eagle. 'Twas 11 Gwirith, T.A. 1.

"But of his fall thou hast heard the tale," the Green Elf protested. She knew Helluin still resented not having been allowed to battle Sauron within Orodruin. "He dissolved into thin air," she reasoned.

"Isildur took his Ring," Helluin griped, "and as after the whelming of Númenor, Sauron's spirit, I wager, hast survived."

"But survived as what?" Beinvír asked. She grinned at her dour partner. Things were back to normal for the first time in decades. 'Twas spring and they were traveling together. "As motes of dust?" She asked. "As a fleeting stench upon the breeze? Surely he is 'naught but a fume or vapor now, indeed lesser even than a shadow."

"No doubt he is…for a time," Helluin allowed.

"Well, I greatly prefer that Isildur doth hold his Ring than he. I cannot imagine the son of Elendil ever parting with it or allowing Sauron to recover it."

'Hmmmm," Helluin mumbled. For the most part she agreed. Few amongst the living despised Sauron more than the new High King of Arnor and Gondor, save perhaps she herself. 'Twas more a problem that Isildur was't mortal and would someday pass on his charge, and someday, someone would forget. That threat would brew like a vexing splinter festering in the back of her mind, or a shed and errant eyelash caught 'neath a lid. She shook her head. Sometimes mortality was't an inconvenience. "I would hath cast it at once into Orodruin," she muttered. "That it doth remain intact 'tis danger enough. Ahhh well, 'tis 'naught to be done for it now, I deem." She shrugged.

"Indeed so," Beinvír replied. "So cease thy brooding, _meldanya_. Enjoy this day. Look, thither fly the geese returning north, and hither about our feet bloom many flowers. Smell the new growth all 'round? Surely the earth renews itself as ever it hath."

She drew forth a carven flute and began a jaunty tune. Helluin smiled and thought of words to accompany her beloved's notes, composing the two into a song. It had been long since last she had been able to indulge herself in such 'follies'.

By 4 Lothron they had passed o'er Baranduin and into central Eriador. Those lands were the home of the Men of Arnor, but oft times the two ellith saw fields lying fallow and sprouting 'naught but a crop of weeds. Wherever sowing had been done, the fields were tended mostly by boys, old men, and women. Little activity did they see in the village markets, while'st travelers upon the roads were few. Arnor lay depopulated by the war, for the army lingered yet in Mordor. Helluin and Beinvír found it depressing and soon came to give the towns of Men a wider berth.

In truth all the realms of the alliance were in similar straits. The kingdoms of Khazad-dûm, Lórinand, and Calenglad i'Dhaer would be bereft of great parts of their populations until their armies returned. Worse, many who had marched forth would not be coming home.

Of all those lands, 'twas by far the kingdoms of the Nandor which had suffered most grievous the losses of battle. Lórinand and Calenglad were both even more greatly diminished than Arnor. Of the forces sent from the Golden Wood, but four in ten returned 'neath the leadership of Prince Amroth. The losses to the army of Greenwood were even greater. Not one in three of its warriors had survived, and these embittered veterans Prince Thranduil led back to their forest. The knowledge of this Helluin felt ever after as a weight of guilt upon her shoulders. Despite her best intentions she had twice led the Quendi of Calenglad to ruin, and so she secretly resolved in her heart to trouble them no more. She would never present herself before the throne of King Thranduil, nor come again amongst his people.

Of all the allies 'twas the Naugrim who had fared best. Khazad-dûm had managed to retain its lord. The Dwarves counted their losses at barely one in five, and marched back to the Dwarrowdelf singing many songs of victory. Indeed Helluin and Beinvír foresaw their celebratory revels and determined not to venture 'nigh that realm for at least a century, knowing they would never survive the feasting.

Now Helluin and Beinvír had made their way mostly north, though somewhat west, from Sarn Athrad, and so they came to a pleasant country of rolling green hills. Thither lay a mixture of open woodlands and untilled fields. 'Twas thither also that they came first upon some companies of the Laiquendi, and they were welcomed amongst them.

"Beinvír, most traveled of our kindred, and Helluin Mórgolodh, we rejoice in thy safe return. Be welcome amongst us and share our fire once again," said Gwilolrán. While'st the Laiquendi had watched o'er the realm of Arnor, the central portion of those lands had been his charge. He had remained Tórferedir's lieutenant in times of war. "I would hear such tidings of the distant battles as thou can'st tell for to inform our king."

"We hath indeed many tidings," Beinvír told him. "'Tis a very long story, with many triumphs and great sadness. Sit then with us and hear all that hath come to pass."

The tale of the deeds of the last seven years took two full days to tell. Beinvír told most of it while'st Helluin added with somber intensity such details as she had seen in Mordor. The Green Elves sat listening in silence, questioning them not, but memorizing all. Much of it was't a wonder to their ears. Strange lands and strange folk far beyond the borders of their realm filled that chronicle, and they came to realize that what passed in their native land was't but a small part of a greater whole. Of that whole, the images of battle and of slaughter that the ellith painted with their words chilled their blood. 'Twas a war unlike any they had undertaken since the Age of the Stars, and all were thankful that it had neither come to their country, nor forced them take any part. Bad as they felt about the deaths of Amdír and Oropher, for the Green Elves, the most important details were the fall of Elendil and of Gil-galad.

"It seems Lord Isildur or Prince Eärendur shalt now take the crown of Arnor. Who shalt rule in Lindon?" the Lieutenant of the Laiquendi asked.

"In truth I am not sure," Helluin said. "By right the leadership of the Noldor falls now to Elrond, who hast long been Vice-Regent of Eriador, but his realm of Imladris is far and Lord Círdan rules the Sindar of Mithlond more close at hand. Yet I know not what shalt be decided, nor even if so many of my people yet remain that Harlindon and Forlindon shalt survive. Many fell in Mordor, and many may remove to Imladris. Some may leave the Hither Shores. I, as ever, shalt wander."

In her heart, Helluin thought that many of her folk would forsake Middle Earth for the West. Lord Círdan would soon be busy laying keels and caulking hulls when he returned to the Grey Havens. As had the death of Ereinion, the impending flight of her people left Helluin feeling melancholy. Though she'd never dwelt amongst them in Lindon, the presence of her fellow Noldor had been subtly comforting. _Time moves ever forward_, she thought with a sigh,_ forward towards a future wherein I shalt be alone. _

When they were done with their tale, Gwilolrán dispatched messengers northwards to the company of Dálindir and Tórferedir. Though he knew Helluin only little and had never set foot in Lindon, he understood her somber mood. While'st his own people wandered and might not see some friend for centuries, they were all still roaming the same lands that had hosted them for an Age, and sooner or later their paths would cross. With flight into the West, as the Noldor and the Sindar of Eriador had been wont at times to do, such meetings would be impossible for those who remained.

When the two ellith took their leave the next morn, Gwilolrán clasped Helluin's shoulder at their parting in a gesture of reassurance.

"Thou move and stalk as do my people, Mórgolodh, and thou hast the favor of our king. Thou can'st find our companies as most cannot and thou shalt find welcome with them," he told her, "and we shalt dwell long upon these shores. Fare thee well 'til our next meeting, friend."

Helluin swallowed the lump his words brought to her throat and nodded to him as she clasped his forearm. It had been many long years since she had marched him and his fellow sentry at swordpoint into the camp of Tórferedir upon the Emyn Uial as prisoners. In the centuries since, much had changed.

"I thank thee, my friend," was't all she could think of to say.

When they had wandered out of earshot, Beinvír playfully told her, "And now unto thy titles thou may add, _Honorary Laiquende of Eriador._"

For the first time in days, Helluin laughed.

Thereafter the two soulmates wandered, crisscrossing Eriador as their fancy led them. In their travels they had little to do with the settlements of Mithlond or Arnor, favoring unsettled country away from cities and towns. Thus they saw not Valandil, fourth son of Isildur, take the throne of Arnor, nor did they learn that his father had come never back from the south. Only much later did they learn of the slaughter at the Gladden Fields and how Isildur had vanished, never to be seen again. No clue as to the fate of the Ring was't told to their ears for many long years. 'Twas only during a visit to Imladris that they heard the tidings of that ruinous ambush, and for them it darkened what should hath been a joyful event.

Now late in the month of Lothron of the year 109 of the Third Age of the Sun, many of the great amongst the Eldar journeyed to the Hidden Valley in the Hithaeglir. 'Twas a gathering such as had not been since the White Council of S.A. 1710, for upon the day of midsummer, Elrond _Peredhel_ was't at last to take in marriage, the hand of Princess Celebrian, daughter of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Their courtship had lasted well 'nigh 1,850 years.

Helluin and Beinvír were encamped southeast of the Weather Hills, within sight of the watchtower of Amon Sûl and the Great East Road. For some time they had noted the passage of many Noldor and Sindar riding east and curiosity had drawn them thither. 'Twas still early morning when a trio of messengers approached their camp bearing the livery of Imladris. When they had come 'nigh, the leader dismounted and joined them.

"Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, the honor of thy presence is requested by Lord Elrond at Imladris, and this request is made also to thy _melda_**¹**, Beinvír, Laiquende. We art to lead thee thither if thou can'st accept this invitation." He bowed and then awaited their reply.

**¹**(**melda, _beloved_** Quenya)

The two ellith looked at each other in surprise and then looked at the messenger in confusion. There had been no hint of command in the message; 'twas a request for their presence only. Helluin raised an eyebrow in question.

"I am not given liberty to say more. I am sorry," the messenger told them.

With a shrug, Helluin stooped to pick up her travel bag as Beinvír did the same. After pausing only to extinguish their camp fire, they followed the messenger back to those who waited and mounted the extra horse that had been brought.

After a journey of 'nigh on 70 leagues in fine weather they crossed the Bruinen and made their way upriver to the hidden entrance of Imladris. The passage of many horses aforetime they had easily discerned upon the paths and at the ford.

Now from the moment they had exited the narrow defile through the red cliffs, the two had felt a sensation of light and peace, of vigor and growth, and perhaps a hint of the wonder and strength of days long gone but somehow preserved, all of which lay like a thin blanket o'er the valley. Helluin turned her head back and forth trying to perceive its source while'st Beinvír cast her eyes hither and thither, marking the scene in her memory. Helluin, who had bathed in the Light of the Trees, knew power when she felt it, and Beinvír came of a people who marked the least change in the quality of the light of sun and moon upon the lands. 'Twas indeed a strange power they discerned now, yet 'twas not uncomfortable, and rather than threatening, it brought them both a profound sense of security and peace.

The two ellith found Imladris filled with Noldor and the Sindar from Mithlond, wherein many survivors of the war had settled, for the Noldor were now too few in western Eriador to maintain any longer their own realm. Thus Círdan had come to be lord of both kindreds at the Havens. Gil-galad's city stood for the most part empty now and only leaves and the sea winds whispered in the courts and gardens of the High King. As ever, the Ship-Wright had taken unto himself no further titles. Helluin knew that such had never been of great importance to the ancient Sinda. Even as Lord of Eglarest and the Falas of Beleriand, he had been known mostly for his vocation. To the Elves, that alone was't a position held in high reverence, for it o'ershadowed the rule of any short-lived physical realm. To them it represented the promise of a choice and a birthright; to leave forever the Hither Shores and come unto their eternal home in the Undying West.

Now being newly arrived in the Hidden Valley, and being friends of the lord from of old, Helluin and Beinvír were summoned first to Elrond's study. Thither they entered, noting along the way how beautiful the buildings had become. 'Twas far different now than it had been at the time of the War of the Elves and Sauron, when indeed it had been more a refuge than a realm. The years of the latter Second Age had matured Imladris and the Elven folk had enriched it, and indeed many Noldor had chosen to remove thither after returning from the war in Mordor. When they finally entered the study they were surprised to find there, not only Elrond, but also friends they had not seen since ere the war: Celeborn, Galadriel, and Celebrian.

Helluin and Beinvír bowed before those gathered thither. Their greeting was't returned and then they were bidden to take seats. 'Twas an informal gathering of friends, and their host poured them wine and offered seeded cakes.

"I am glad thou hath come hither on such sort notice, my friends," the Lord Elrond said with a broad smile. "Thou art not easily found. Indeed my messengers hath searched for thee for some months." He chuckled and the two ellith smiled at him. He seemed now more relaxed and confident than at any time since they had known him.

"Our apologies to thee and thy errand riders, Lord Elrond," Beinvír said. "We hath been many places, but oft times not upon the roads. I am thankful not to hath foiled thy desire and thy summons while'st at unawares. 'Tis indeed long since we hath come hither and thy land hast grown beautiful. Thy folk hath labored greatly and brought much prosperity to it. Indeed it seems bestowed now with some enchantment, subtle yet undeniable, that lie'th thinly and with comfort upon thy lands."

Helluin nodded in agreement with her soulmate's words, while examining the Lady Galadriel closely. Upon her form now lay some subtle light which had been absent aforetime. It left the impression of her skin being a more pure white, her eyes a clearer grey, and the silver and gold of her hair brighter in the sunlight. Helluin cocked her head in question and was't greeted with a mysterious smile from Galadriel.

"Long hast it been since I hath seen thee, Helluin," Elrond continued, reclaiming the Noldo's attention, "and Beinvír I hath not seen save briefly ere the breaking of the Black Gate of Mordor. I rejoice in thy survival. 'Tis good that thou art hither, for much hast come to pass of late that thou should know of."

'Indeed t'would seem just so," Helluin agreed pointedly, "for now thy land lies enchanted and beautified, as if no stain of this Age lie'th upon it, while'st I perceive upon Lady Artanis some radiance of spirit mysteriously conferred. I am perplexed. Wherefore come'th such changes, subtle yet apparent, and uplifting to the heart?"

Celeborn chuckled at the dark Noldo's confusion and Galadriel retained her smile. Elrond allowed himself a short trill of laughter and then nodded to the other two.

"None but a few of the Wise hath the sight to mark that of which thou speak, and amongst them 'tis forbidden to say 'aught. Yet since such effects art undeniable to thy sight, I deem 'tis right that thou should know from whence such came."

Rather than explain with words he merely raised his left hand, revealing a heavy Ring of gold set with a great blue sapphire. Across the desk, Galadriel did the same, displaying that the Ring of _mithril_ now adorned her hand, and upon it was't set a great diamond. Helluin's eyes very nearly started from her head.

"Thou hast taken upon thyselves the craft of Celebrimbor?" She choked out. 'Twas Vilya and Nenya, the Rings of Water and Air, freed at last from the threat of Sauron and at liberty to work in the world. Beside her Beinvír's eyes were as large as saucers.

"There is much to be healed and much to be preserved in this new Age," Galadriel said, "and we deem that for a while 'tis our responsibility to shepherd the unfolding of this time in a few places. A few places and for a time only," she added wistfully, "for I deem that ere all comes to pass we shalt again be forced to face the darkness, and in such times shalt we hath need of strength. The craft and sacrifice of Lord Celebrimbor shalt stand us in good stead in the keeping of our resolve as the world dims and our time passes, and our people fade."

Helluin nodded. Galadriel had declared much in her words and she was't certainly capable of reading betwixt them.

"I too hath felt the promise of doom to come," Helluin declared, "for though Sauron be laid low he was't not destroyed, and Isildur holds his Ring. I wager that someday it shalt again bring jeopardy to us all."

Around the room a pall of gloom grew at her words and those gathered thither fell into a self-conscious and uncomfortable silence. At first none broached the topic she had introduced. Helluin looked from face to face, wondering if her declaration had included some gaff or revelation of ignorance. Beside her Beinvír felt a chill creep upon her heart as if the sun had slunk behind a cloud.

**To Be Continued**


	78. In An Age Before Chapter 78

**In An Age Before – Part 78**

_As with the previous update, the author wishes to thank _Placidia_ for her aid as beta reader._**

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Unwilling to bear the silence any longer Helluin finally asked, "What? Hath I spoken 'aught of yet another subject forbidden?"

As the silence continued it became apparent that the guests were waiting and deferring to the lord of that land. Elrond sighed as if borne down by a great weight and spoke.

"Nay, Helluin. Fear not the wages of thy words. 'Tis merely that thy wandering ways hath left thee behind the world's tidings somewhat." He faltered then and chewed his lip, behaving almost as one embarrassed and yet needing to reveal embarrassing news. Helluin looked at him in confusion.

"All that thou hast declared is true…or 'twas upon a time," he allowed, swallowing ere he continued. "Sauron was't indeed laid low and is, as thou hast said, not destroyed. Yet for o'er a century the One Ring of the Enemy hast not been in the keeping of Isildur."

At this Helluin sputtered in shock. Ere she could form a sentence, Elrond continued.

"The Lord Isildur came never back to the north kingdom from Gondor. He lingered thither a year ere committing the rule of the south kingdom to Lord Meneldil, and then, with a company of two hundreds including his sons, rode for Imladris by way of Anduin. Thither, upon the fields 'nigh Gladden, his party was't waylaid by Yrch come from Hithaeglir and well 'nigh all were slain. In desperation he fled to preserve that which he bore, and headed for the banks of Anduin. He set the Ring upon his finger and vanished. He was't never seen again."

Helluin groaned and shook her head in denial. Since returning from Gondor she'd kept herself uninvolved with Arnor, entering not into its business and avoiding its affairs. She hadn't even marked the lack of its king or who sat upon its throne. Helluin and Beinvír had wandered amongst the wooded lands and kept most oft to themselves, meeting only upon occasion even with the Laiquendi. In Eriador, realm lay superimposed upon realm, sharing lands but maintaining their segregation, and the two ellith had been very much a realm of two apart. Helluin was't hard pressed to grasp the extent of her own ignorance.

Now all that she had feared had come to pass and much sooner than she had expected. But had the Yrch recovered the Ring? Did the renewed doom of free folk only wait upon the rejuvenation of the Dark Lord to take up again his talisman and raise his realm? She couldn't believe that all the dead and all the fighting had been for so short a respite. Had the war been but a fruitless gesture that had cost the lives of the High Kings Ereinion and Elendil, and the Kings Anárion, Oropher, and Amdír?

"Of Isildur's company three only survived; Ohtar, the king's esquire, who fled with a companion bearing the shards of Narsil, and Estelmo, the esquire of the King's Heir, Elendur," Elrond continued. "By their testimony 'twas the story known, while'st the rest can be guessed with near surety, for Isildur came not to Thranduil, nor to Amroth, nor to me. We deem that he was't slain, his body washed into the river, and with it, Sauron's Ring."

"Think thou not that he fell captive and the Ring taken?" Helluin asked.

"Nay, we deem it not so," Elrond said, "for the Yrch would hath slain and mutilated him, treating his body no better than they did that of Lord Celebrimbor aforetime. They would hath reveled in the despair such a trophy would hath wrought when found, and they would hath taken pains to ensure that t'would be discovered. Nor hast the Dark Lord arisen, and this we felt would hath come to pass had his minions recovered his Ring. Mordor lies empty still and the Barad-dúr in ruins. The Men of Gondor hath set a watch upon the Black Land and they attest 'tis yet deserted. And so we believe that Isildur died and was't not taken, and like him, lost too is the Ring."

Helluin let out a long sigh. She recalled Isildur with the clarity of Elven memory. It must hath killed his soul to abandon thus his sons and soldiers to flee the battle. The Ring itself would hath burned him and caused him pain as he set it upon his hand. And in the end neither act had availed him. He had fallen, the last victim of Sauron's war.

"Thou hast searched the banks of Anduin, I wager," she asked.

"Aye, the lands about Gladden hath been searched such that not a stone hath kept hid its shadow," Celeborn told them. "Lord Amroth and Lord Thranduil sent many to seek clues or 'aught of tidings as could be found. Indeed 'twas both Men of the kindred of settlers 'nigh Anduin and scouts of Calenglad who's coming drove off the Yrch ere they could mutilate the fallen. Little time had passed since the battle and so they came upon Estelmo yet alive, fallen 'neath the body of Elendur, his lord. 'Tis bitter that Prince Elendur was't slain. He would hath made a fine king, much like his grandfather, noble, and subtle, and wise." Celeborn shook his head sadly with eyes downcast.

"I knew him but poorly," Helluin said, "and from scant acquaintance, yet I am saddened by the news of his passing. If indeed Isildur's sons art slain, who then now rules Arnor?"

"Ahhh," Elrond said, "'tis now Valandil who hast taken up the scepter in Annúminas."

Helluin furrowed her brow in confusion. She recognized not the name.

"He is the fourth son of Isildur," Galadriel told her, "born in this land as his mother awaited her king's return from the war. He was't fostered hither in Imladris and took up the rule of the north kingdom in the 10th year of this Age. He had passed but 21 winters upon his coronation."

Both Helluin and Beinvír sat mute in amazement. Neither had heard aforetime of Valandil son of Isildur. The king would be now 120 years of age, still young for a lord of the Númenóreans to rule a kingdom. To hath taken up the scepter and crown at 21 was't unheard of. He had been scarcely more than a child. To the Elves he was't still but a youth in his first _yen_. 'Twas unbelievable. Indeed surprise had grown atop surprise since they had entered Elrond's study, and now neither ellith thought that 'aught could be said to surprise them yet again. They were mistaken.

"And so thou hast summoned hither all who might aid in the search for Sauron's Ring?" Helluin asked the _Peredhel,_ guessing at his purpose in gathering together so many of the surviving Eldar. "Thou hast summoned those who might offer counsel?"

For the first time in many long moments, Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, and the previously silent Celebrian smiled. Helluin and Beinvír looked at them more confused now than ever. The Noldo suspected that she had surely displayed again her ignorance and would shortly suffer renewed embarrassment.

"A thing is about to happen which hath not happened in an Age," the princess declared happily. "My lord shalt set aside his duties and indulge his heart."

'Twas some moments ere the two visitors could comprehend of what Celebrian spoke, but then, slowly, understanding dawned upon them and their smiles grew as broad as the groom's and the bride's parents'.

"Art thou indeed to marry at last?" Beinvír asked, the light of joy restored to her eyes with her hopes of such a happy event. "After all the time of thy waiting, hath thou truly committed to joining?"

"Indeed we hath." Celebrian told them, beaming with joy. "At last we art finally to celebrate the joining of our hearts and take up a life together."

The Green Elf leapt from her seat to envelope the princess in a hug. She had felt a lingering sadness for the lovely elleth ever since hearing of her plight long aforetime in Belfalas, during the same dinner at which Galadriel had somehow foisted off the rule of Lebennin upon her and her soulmate. She looked o'er at her old friend Elrond and saw that the light of joy well 'nigh eclipsed the aura of his Ring. She rejoiced in the happiness of her friends.

"Oh, Helluin," she gushed, "is it not wonderful that these two shalt at last make their lives together? I am sure they shalt be forever blissful," and then with a wink at the Lord of Imladris the Green Elf said, "and I am sure they shalt soon hath beautiful children."

Lord Elrond very nearly choked. Celeborn chuckled at her teasing of his son-in-law to be, while'st Galadriel gave her a knowing smirk. Celebrian simply glowed.

"Indeed 'tis wonderful," Helluin agreed, breaking into a smile, "and I am most jubilant for thee both. 'Tis a long awaited joining that I hope brings thee endless joy. I must also offer my congratulations to thee, Lord Celeborn and Lady Artanis. Great must thy joy be to finally see thy daughter so blissful. I am sure thou shalt both make wonderful babysitters." She quirked a grin at the parents of the bride. Galadriel actually laughed aloud at her jest. "So when shalt thou celebrate thy joining?" she asked a moment later.

"We art to wed upon the day of midsummer, the Re i Anaro, for the blessing of the longest day shalt be our hope for the longest of lives together," Elrond proudly told them. 'Twas an auspicious date indeed. "My folk shalt provide thee hospitality and I pray thee enjoy Imladris during thy stay. I am glad thou hath come hither for our joining, my old friends."

To this the two ellith nodded. 'Twas now 7 Nórui, and a fortnight ere the celebration.

"'Twas thoughtful of Lord Elrond to reserve my old room, even though he knew not if we should indeed arrive," Beinvír remarked to Helluin as they settled their packs in the very same room of the hospice wither the Green Elf had lodged aforetime. She marked the thickening of the trees in the woods beyond the portico. Thither had the rain fallen in liquid whispers once long before ere the appearance of the Vala Ulmo. She closed her eyes and sampled the sounds and smells of the rainless afternoon; breeze tickling the summer leaves and delivering the green feeling of trees, the richly scented loam and fugitive fragrance of flowers from a garden somewhere out of sight. Bird calls rose above the background; argument of sparrows, cry of a jay, and the distant screech of a hawk.

"A fortnight ere the wedding," Helluin mused, drawing Beinvír's attention. The Green Elf opened her eyes and watched her partner pace.

Helluin turned to her with a sheepish look.

"I feel the need to take a look thither," she admitted.

"Whence?" The Green Elf asked with a sinking feeling, "To see the beautification of hither realm? To greet again many friends sundered for a century?" She asked hopefully.

After a pause during which she bit her lip, the Noldo continued with, "Nay, _meldanya_. I find myself compelled to entertain a glance about Gladden."

Beinvír groaned. After the wedding of Elrond and Celebrian their next destination lay o'er the Hithaeglir in Rhovanion.

"Whyfore doth thou find thyself drawn thence to the scene of an old tragedy? 'Tis long past time for finding clues or some trail. All hast been washed away by a hundred cycles of spring rains and summer storms. Thou shalt see 'naught of what came to pass in that place long ago, Helluin. Even so great a tracker as thou doth need some spoor to mark ere a'stalking can'st thou go. I too feel badly for Isildur and the loss to his house, and I fear the wages of the loss of his treasure, but whatsoever thou doth seek to accomplish by thy presence, I understand it not."

Helluin sat down upon the foot of the bed and set her chin in her palm. Beinvír was't correct. Even she would likely discern nothing pertinent, mark nothing of import, and see nothing of Isildur's passing. The Ring was't surely rolled down to Anduin as Elrond and the Wise believed. And yet she felt compelled to go thither, even if only to pay her respects at the place of the disaster. Not for the first time came the thought that had it not been for that wretched Eagle, the elder son of Elendil should never hath touched the Ring of Sauron. Neither would his father hath been slain nor Ereinion fallen. She could do 'naught for it now 'twas true, and yet she felt deeply that she must go thither.

"I understand not the compulsion that directs me hence," she admitted, "yet I hear the call strongly in my heart. I too believe the time of taking up whatsoever trail there might hath once been is long past. 'Tis a sentimental journey of homage more than any quest for clues or some resolution, I deem."

The Green Elf nodded in understanding even as she cast up her hands in capitulation and sighed. She would rather hath tarried amongst the guests for another fortnight of revels, or sat trading stories in the Hall of Fire.

"Still, after 107 years there is no pressing rush, I wager," Helluin said with a grin, "and whether tomorrow or in a month, all shalt be as it hath been aforetime. We shalt go unto Gladden, but not ere the celebration is done. We shalt make merry and wish well our friends, enjoying such company as 'tis to be found in hither realm ere we take again to the wilderness." The compromise had been worth it just to see her partner's smile.

Now the two ellith donned raiment of finer cloth than their wandering garb, and made their way amongst the celebrants, greeting many long sundered and many old friends. Glorfindel, Galdor, and Círdan told them much of the state of Mithlond and Lindon thus far in the Third Age. They heard from the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of how the realms had been combined. Indeed many of the surviving Noldor had been loath to remove from the Firth of Lune so near to their ancient home of Beleriand. Too, many had seen as diminished the time of their abiding in Middle Earth, and therefore they tarried 'nigh the Havens from which they would sooner or later sail into the West. Thither they had repaired from the depressing surroundings of the Noldorin kingdom. Too many memories of those lost in the war dwelt amongst the emptied houses and vacant courts and deserted gardens where well 'nigh every street and turn brought to mind some lost kith or kin.

The Noldor had returned from the war to find their homes saddened and strange, and they had felt unwelcome in them. So they had migrated to the Havens, filling the places emptied by the fallen Sindar, and though not of their kindred all held Círdan in the highest esteem and soon called him lord.

Now when Helluin and Beinvír met the Lord of the Havens, they bowed before him and he received them gladly. Rare had been their meetings o'er the years. Helluin he greeted as a peer, a commoner still, yet so blessed in the West as to be elevated o'er many who called themselves lords. She had a power seen in none save perhaps in some measure in Glorfindel, which was't beyond that of even those who had come forth from the Blessed Realm at the same time as she. Helluin was't also a homeless wanderer and wild compared to the citizens of Lindon. Indeed, she represented to Círdan the best of what had been and what could be; an Elda enriched by the West, yet not subject to the self-absorption of the culture it had spawned. Beinvír he allowed to enchant him, for though come of the Moriquendi and far younger than himself, she had wandered afar and gained wisdom atop her own native store of perceptiveness. He found her a strange and refreshing blend of the acute awareness of nature typical of the Dark Elves, and the enlightened knowledge and empathy characteristic of the Amanyar. There was't a strange fugitive light in her eyes such as none of the Laiquendi shared, but none of the superior airs or effete affectations of the Noldor. Both ellith stared at him in surprise, cocking their heads at some unseen aspect of him that they clearly felt. 'Twas as if he stood now youthful again and energetic as an ellon of a few centuries, but yet more. He could only smile, not wholly surprised.

_I should swear that he too hath partaken of the blessings that now lie upon this realm,_ the Green Elf said silently to Helluin with her glance.

_And I should say that he too doth possess a source of it himself, _Helluin replied. Beinvír cast her glance to the Ship-Wright's hands. Sure enough, he wore a Ring. The great ruby upon its band winked fire red in the sunlight. Her eyes widened.

Seeing her reaction and Helluin's smirk, the old Sinda laughed.

"The Lady hath warned me of thy sight," he admitted, holding up his hand. "She hath told me of thy sharp eyes and sure enough, thou hath marked the Ring of Celebrimbor that I hath been chosen to bear. 'Tis Narya, the Ring of Fire."

"Thou wears it well, Lord Ship-Wright," Helluin replied. "Indeed I deem it shalt stand thee in good stead in the accelerated application of thy craft."

He chuckled.

"'Tis a help indeed and hast been a support to me in the reorganization and settling of the realm of Mithlond. Perhaps t'would reassure thee that fewer hath fled the Hither Shores than many suspect, yet still few enough remain." He shook his head for a moment but then smiled. "Long shalt the combined realm of Noldor and Sindar stand while'st the power of the Elves remains and time allows."

"Then I rejoice that thou hast found succor in thy labors and that thy folk still find comfort in Middle Earth. T'will be a world diminished when the last of the Eldar hath fled."

At this, Círdan looked carefully at Helluin.

"T'will be long indeed ere the last hath fled," he said softly, and then immediately regretted his words when Beinvír turned away stifling her sobs.

Helluin wrapped her arms about her partner and hugged her tightly, placing a soft kiss atop her head. She looked at Círdan with a grim and regretful clenching of her jaw, somewhere 'twixt a pained grin and a grimace.

_More for her sake than my own do I wish my doom was't other than what hath been declared,_ she said silently to him o'er Beinvír's bowed head. Círdan sadly nodded to her and gave her an apologetic look.

Now it seemed that after such a very long time, many of the Eldar sought out stories from the two, something which had been in the past mostly the interest of Men. Beinvír told many tales of their wanderings in the Second Age, and many young Noldor and Sindar sat by, harkening to her words. Indeed 'twas now few enough of the population who had lived during the First Age, and only a rare fraction who had walked the Westward Journey or lived in Aman. The populations of the Elven Realms encompassed slowly increasing numbers of both kindreds who had been born and lived only in Eriador.

Many looked to Helluin also, though as ever she was't reticent to speak, and but few gathered the courage to ask her for a tale. Mostly she was't content to sit by, sipping her refreshment and listening to the lore of others, or watching as her partner wove stories of their travels. Yet on a time when some few did beg a song or tale from the dark Noldo she would oblige them, returning to her memories of how the world had been in long vanished times. She would sit narrating, or giving voice to songs while'st accompanied by some harper or flutist, and when again she opened her eyes she would find the Hall of Fire filled and utterly silent save for the crackling of the logs upon the hearth. By the quality of her voice and words did she paint pictures in the minds of her listeners so vivid that those who harkened to her felt themselves enmeshed in history and song as it were their own experiences. With the same gifts that she had enchanted the Avari long before, Helluin held thrall the throng of Imladris, for each story and song partook of Power.

Now the days preceding the marriage of Elrond and Celebrian passed with great cheer and friendship, and when fell the Re i Anaro, all joined together to celebrate and bless the long-betrothed couple. And standing amidst the wedding party, Helluin's hand was't tightly clasped by her beloved's, and upon the Green Elf's finger, the ring of _mithril_ and gold wrought in the shape of the Two Trees by the wrights of the House of Gneiss in Khazad-dûm affirmed their own commitment. Indeed deeper even than that of the bride and groom did the melding of their spirits reach, and like the couple finally sharing the culmination of their courtship, 'cross the long Ages of Arda would the repercussions of their love persist, even unto the Ending of Days.

**To Be Continued**

7


	79. In An Age Before Chapter 79

**In An Age Before – Part 79

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**Chapter Fifty-one**

_**Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now following the wedding of Elrond and Celebrian, Helluin and Beinvír made their way by the high pass from Imladris, o'er the Hithaeglir and into Rhovanion. Never aforetime had they tread those paths amongst the windy and snow clad peaks. Rather they had gone far to the south, through the Gap of Sîr Angren into Calenardhon, or more oft, 'neath the mountains through Hadhodrond. Here the way from Imladris wound high amidst barren stone, oft with precipitous drops upon one hand and a sheer face upon the other. In places too the trail had suffered somewhat since the passing of the Host of the Alliance, from the cycles of freeze and thaw that ever contrived to crack stone and loosen rocks. Thither too upon that march were there caves and cracks and openings in the upslope. In days of old some few of these had been the doors to warrens of Yrch who had first come thither in flight from the War of Wrath, and had persisted thither through all the centuries since. At times these heeded the summons of their master to the south, but oft too they lived generation after generation as renegades, ruling their own, and acting only for their personal gain against any traveler.

In those days upon the eastern face of the Hithaeglir roamed many bears, and some of these were more than they seemed. 'Twas a long and unpublicized war they fought, these shape-shifting descendants of Helluin's old friends, Berlun and Grinda. Their perennial battle against the Yrch had come down from the ending of the First Age, when the settlers had been driven from their homes in the mountains by the onslaught of newly arrived enemies from the wreck of Thangorodrim.

Now though these folk had never been plentiful and their numbers seemed not to increase o'er time, still they maintained themselves in the Vale of Anduin from century to century. To most in Middle Earth they were unknown, and though the Elven realms of Lórinand and Calenglad i'Dhaer were aware of them, they seldom met. Of all peoples 'twas the Naugrim who knew them best, and though even these met them but rarely, at such times they honored each other as friends of old, and sometimes allied themselves against their mutual enemies, the Yrch. Such a joining of forces occurred perhaps once or twice a century during dark times, while'st in times of peace, 'twas some limited trading in which they engaged.

The settlers had need of iron tools for their farming, fittings for their homesteads, and weapons for defense. These they got mostly out of Khazad-dûm, as no other craftsmen produced such things of comparable quality north of Gondor. But no flowers bloomed in the Dwarven halls. No bees sipped nectar in their mansions of stone. Yet cakes and mead had need of sweetening and the Naugrim had developed a taste for honey. Trade they did, iron for that syrup which they called 'flowing sun gold'.

'Twas upon the night of 11 Cerveth, (July 11th), and that being their second night in the heights of the pass, when Helluin and Beinvír availed themselves of the shelter of a shallow cave that opened onto the trail. Neither sought the depths save for to assure themselves that 'twas indeed unoccupied, but rather kindled a fire and set their bedrolls 'nigh the cave's mouth for to enjoy the mountain airs and watch the sky. O'erhead the stars of Elbereth wheeled slowly in their courses, shepherded by Ithil, in the black sea of the night. Helluin leaned back against her bedroll which padded the cave wall, while'st Beinvír leaned back against her chest, using her thighs for armrests. They were quite content, warm, fed, and unharried by cold, rain, or wind. 'Twas a peaceful night alone together and each had all the company they needed.

Beinvír had let her mind wander, likening the stars above to those she had once seen from the high talan atop the mainmast of the Queen's ship _Valacirca_ out of Romenna in Númenor, upon the night when first she and Helluin had consummated their love. 'Twas a memory she cherished more than almost all others. Helluin was't simply enjoying the moment, the night, and the warmth of her lover's body resting against her. Both were still as stones, silent as the rocks themselves, and the fire had burned low. Wrapped in their Elven cloaks, they were well 'nigh invisible.

'Twas after some hours of this that the dark Noldo slowly became aware of a shuffling and sniffing coming from a distance. Indeed the sounds seemed to grow so slowly and had begun so softly that they had seemed to hath crept upon her with the unnoticed stealth of growing moss. She could not hath marked the precise moment at which she was't certain that an animal 'twas approaching upon the path from the direction they had yet to travel. Helluin listened as the minutes passed, noting the care and patience with which the creature advanced. Shortly she was't certain that this was't a large beast and she gently stroked her beloved's hair to rouse her.

The Green Elf sighed and withdrew from her pleasant memory, then turned to look into her lover's eyes.

_Whyfore hath thou drawn me hence from the recall of a sky even more dear then that which lies above us now, meldanya?_

_I hath marked the approach of a large creature upon the path, meldis meldwain nin. I deemed it prudent to wake thee ere it came hither._

Beinvír nodded and then cocked her head towards the sounds.

'_Tis a bear and one of great size at that, _the Green Elf stated with certainty. _Think thou that it shalt pass us by or seek refuge in hither cave?_

_I think I shalt invite it hither,_ Helluin replied, bringing a widening of Beinvír's eyes in surprise, _for I deem I know this bear's kindred. An ancestor was't a friend and ally long aforetime._ To this the Green Elf nodded in understanding. Helluin had told her the tale of Berlun and Grinda long ago and she had viewed the homestead of an earlier descendant in S.A. 1701. At that time they had not met any of the settlers, nor had they since. Now Beinvír found herself quite curious.

_Think thou that any of that kindred shalt recall thee or thy friendship with one of their own after 'nigh on 3,400 years?_ She asked. Helluin had first met Berlun in S.A. 151.

_Surprised would I be to find any recall of me in the lore of that people, _Helluin replied, _yet one thing is sure; he who doth approach shalt be an enemy of the same enemies as art we. We hath much more in common than not in that, and 'twill be solid grounds for our acquaintance, I wager._ Beinvír nodded her acceptance of this and relaxed back against Helluin's chest. Together they silently awaited the approaching bear.

Now the bear sensed their camp long ere he sensed their actual presence, for no animal is oblivious to the presence of fire. The bear stopped abruptly and sniffed, and the two ellith heard a low growl rumble in his throat, for who upon the mountain pass was't most likely to tend a fire save the Yrch of the mountains. Thus 'twas with increased stealth and wariness that the bear advanced thereafter, and little further sound did the Elves hear to report his presence. Their first knowledge of his appearance was't the moon shadow cast by his bulk 'cross the mouth of the cave. A single sniff confirmed this a moment later, and then, with infinite patience, slow as the movement of Ithil himself, an ear, and then a jowl, and at last an eye did they see appearing 'round the edge of the rock.

The bear stared into the darkness and by the scant light of the embers, espied to two ellith waiting for him with shining eyes. They were indeed armed, he saw, yet neither held a weapon ready, nor moved to draw such at his appearance. Indeed both remained totally still. They simply watched him watching them. Finally, after some minutes of taking each others' measure, the Elf nearest the cave wall softly spoke a welcome in Sindarin.

"_Suilannam cin, meldir ifant_**¹**_,"_ Helluin said.

**¹**(**Suilannam cin, meldir ifant, _We greet you, (m.) friend of old_ _suilanno-_**(v., greet) + **_-(a)m_**(pl sub suff, _we_) + **_cin_**(2nd pers sing obj pro, _you_) + **_meldir_**(m. friend) + **_ifant_**(old) (gen construc, _friend of old_) Sindarin)

The bear moved not at first, save to acknowledged Helluin's greeting with a blink. After several moments he withdrew his head beyond the edge of the rock. The Elves then heard a curious sound, as of a bowstring stretching, but somehow wetter. A few more moments passed and then a shadow in Man's form crossed the threshold, and the Man followed, stepping into the entrance and fully into their sight.

He was't a hand's length o'er a fathom in height and burly of build, with powerful shoulders and arms, and sturdy legs. His head was't covered with thick black hair, and the black beard that grew o'er his cheeks 'twas dense as upon one of the Naugrim. His dark eyes were bright, not with Elven light, but with native intelligence and spirit. In a dark-brown, long-sleeved tunic and trousers was't he dressed and tall sturdy boots he wore, and a jerkin of thick leather o'er all. When he addressed them he spoke just as softly as Helluin had, but in a deep rumbling voice.

"_Suilannon lin, mildis nin_**¹**_,"_ he said, and then asked, _"Ir ifant istoannel min_**²**_?"_

**¹**(**Suilannon lin, mildis nin, _I greet thee, my (f.) friends_ _suilanno-_**(v., greet) + **_-n_**(1st pers sing sub suff, _I_) + **_lin_**(2nd pers pl obj pro, _you_) + **_mildis_**(f. friends, pl) + **_nin_**(1st pers sing poss pro, _my_) Sindarin)

**²(Ir ifant istoannel min? _Whence (when of old) did thou know (have knowledge of) us?_ _ir_**(when) + **_ifant_**(old) (gen construc, _when of old_) + **_isto-_**(have knowledge) + **_-anne-_**(past tense v suff) + **_-l_**(2nd pers pl subj suff, _you_) + **_min_**(3rd pers pl obj pron, _us_) (gen construc, _knowledge of us_) Sindarin)

"Indeed long hast it been since last I met one of thy kindred," Helluin told him, "yet in that time, with Berlun son of Brulun and Narin of Khazad-dûm, did I assail a foul lair of the Glam in the Hithaeglir to the south. Thither, with their companies did we find victory o'er our enemies, slaughtering them to the last. Thence for many years thereafter was't I a friend to Berlun and his wife Grinda, and later to his son and daughter, Brekun and Falla, and oft I came amongst them and had welcome of their people."

The man squinted at her in concentration, obviously searching his memory for the names. Finally he gave up and shrugged, saying, "I doubt thee not, yet I hath no knowledge of thy friends or thy campaign. I wager that in thy long life, such friendship mayhaps came to be long ago, for 'tis said amongst our people that the Gonnhirrim be long-lived and our folk hardy, but all fall eventually to age or wounds or sickness. Yet the Eldar live forever if they art not slain, and their memory stretches back even unto the days ere days of which we hath heard only rumor. Therefore in token of the friendship thou shared with our folk of old, I offer thee my friendship now. I am called Bartan son of Brayan."

He stretched forth a hand to Helluin, who clasped his forearm in greeting.

"I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwe, and here also is my beloved, Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador. We go thither unto Gladden Fields 'nigh Anduin, for I feel compelled to examine the site of an ambush in which Isildur, King of Arnor, and many of his kith and kin were slain by Yrch of Hithaeglir 'nigh on 109 years past."

At her words, Bartan growled low in his throat and his eyes hardened in anger.

"I know of this attack in which the Men of the Sea were slaughtered. 'Twas to our disgrace that such enemies yet lurked to wreck such havoc. Since the opening of the past Age my folk hath warred against the foul Glam, yet never doth it seem our fate to fight a final battle. Indeed we art too few and the Glam too numerous, yet ever shalt they bear our hatred and ever shalt we fight them. Tonight I come to seek for clues of some such who hath taken prisoner a company of our allies and friends, the Gonnhirrim of Hadhodrond. These were traders but recently amongst my people and they art close to us. I fear for them in the hands of their enemies and would free them from their tormentors. Indeed we may share purpose or at least a focus for our hatred this night, for these Glam art of the same kindred who once slew King Isildur."

At his last words, Helluin's eyes narrowed and she felt the first flickers of wrath kindle in her heart. Elves of Lórinand and Calenglad had come to drive off the Yrch after the slaughter of Gladden Fields, but they had never taken upon themselves the task of exterminating those responsible. Only the Naugrim of Khazad-dûm and these Men had tirelessly waged war against the Yrch of Hithaeglir.

"But thou art alone," Beinvír said, "and the Yrch may be many. And they art hidden in their foul tunnels and pits far from the sun and moon. Whither shalt thou find them, and how shalt thou free thy friends?"

"Oh, I know whither their lair is hid," Bartan said grimly. "No doubt hath I of the where, and as for the how…I shalt rend them limb from limb as ever aforetime. They know and fear me and my kindred, yet expect us not for the fewness of our numbers. We art that nightmare which they meet at times unforeseen, the bringers of their doom."

"I should savor bringing doom upon them as well," Helluin muttered. "I'll show them a nightmare."

Beinvír groaned to herself. She felt the tension growing in the body behind her and knew this mood of Helluin's. She foresaw their course. It seemed that they would soon be passing out from 'neath sun and moon themselves, and not into the friendly halls of Khazad-dûm. She expected to find nothing fit to eat.

"Wherefore doth thou seek the entrance to this lair of thy enemies, O Bartan?" Helluin asked.

The Man grinned at her and slowly raised a hand to gesture at the rear wall of the cave. The two ellith's eyes followed the line of his pointing finger in shocked surprise.

"Thither lies an enchanted door," he told her, "hidden from sight and most easily opened from within. Yonder in the dark lie the festering passages of the Yrch. The tunnels go on for many miles and upon many levels and hath other entrances. Thither I hath come a few times, following my nose."

He grimaced at the memories of the stenches he had encountered aforetime. Now 'twas Helluin who grinned; no den of the Yrch could create so putrid a stench as that which she had encountered in the dungeons of the Barad-dúr. For her part, Beinvír groaned aloud at the prospects and shivered at the thought of having camped upon the doorstep of a warren of Yrch.

Thereafter 'twas decided that Helluin and Beinvír would indeed join Bartan on his quest to rescue the traders of Khazad-dûm, for that people were friends to the two ellith as well. For Helluin, 'twas also a chance to avenge in some measure, the slaughter of Isildur's party and perhaps even learn some tidings of the battle and the Ring. Thus shortly later, Barton changed back into his bear form and with a determined charge, flung his bulk against the hidden door and sundered it from its hinges. It crashed in splintered pieces, falling into the dark tunnel behind, for it had been 'naught but flimsy planks faced with a thin slice of rock.

_All looks and no strength,_ thought Helluin as she regarded the fragments of the ruined door, _and typical of the shoddy construction of those foul creatures. Huh. I should hath suspected just such._

Now the three made their way downwards for some time following Bartan's nose, and venturing ever deeper into that underground lair. The smell indeed increased in pungency, blending a miasma of rotten meat, rancid grease, stale sweat, and old smoke. The walls were rough-hewn after the fashion of the Glam, and the floor was no more finished, making for sometimes hazardous footing. The darkness would hath been absolute, save that Helluin allowed to glow forth a measure of blue fire from her eyes and in that minimal illumination the keen sight of the party showed their surroundings. The Man seemed to know the way without question, ignoring side entrances and bypassing many branching tunnels. The Elves committed all to memory, internalizing a mental map in case of separation.

"Art we drawing 'nigh thy goal?" Beinvír asked in a whisper at the third hour.

"We art drawing 'nigh the inhabited areas," Bartan replied just as softly. "Indeed shortly we may encounter sentries or companies on some assignment. I needn't say that any such whom we meet must be either avoided or silenced."

Avoiding anyone in the closed tunnels they had heretofore traveled would be well 'nigh impossible, the Green Elf thought. Unless some fortuitously placed side entrance appeared at just the right time, t'would be silent slaying they'd need to do.

'Twas not long thereafter when the fall of iron-shod feet reported the coming of several Yrch. They were heading down a tunnel towards the three bearing a torch, and they jostled and cursed each other for the clumsiness of their loping strides. With a sigh, Helluin let her eyes cease their light and the Elves and the Man waited in the darkness, pressed against either wall, the ellith in front, shrouding their companion with their cloaks. In the dim light of the approaching torch, they appeared at first glance as little more than boulders or an irregularity in the side of the tunnel. The soft whisper of steel upon leather reported the drawing of Anguirél.

Now Helluin's keen sight reported a party of six Glam jogging towards them, the leader bearing the torch, the followers shoving and grunting and trying to keep up. Their guttural Black Speech came to the ears of the three, igniting a simmering rage in their hearts for that race bred long aforetime of Morgoth's perversity. Closer and closer the foul creatures came, unwary and oblivious to the presence of their enemies. In fact, as they came 'nigh, the leader turned to chasten those behind and never even saw the whistling black blade that hewed off his head and the heads of the two closest behind him with Helluin's first stroke.

Now when the Noldo swung her blade, she stepped forward into the path of the Yrch to gain room for the arc of her swing, and as the first three heads fell at her feet, she pivoted upon her leading foot. Thus she was't amidst the Yrch and had but to continue her rotation to hew off the heads of the remaining three ere they could voice their shock. 'Twas o'er in a moment and the whistling blade stilled as Helluin completed her turn. The fallen torch sputtered on the tunnel floor and then flickered and went out, plunging the scene again into darkness. The smells of smoldering oil cloth and spilt blood came to their nostrils o'er the dry scent of rock dust and the ever present rot.

In the silent, night-black tunnel, the sword's cold voice whispered, "'tis a foul draught, the blood of these accursed enemies of old, but welcome none the less, O Helluin."

The warrior stooped and apologetically cleaned her steel upon the ragged tunic of the nearest Orch.

"Thou art welcome, O Anguirél, sorry am I to cleanse thee now upon cloth already so befouled." With a hiss of steel on leather, she slid the black sword into it's scabbard.

Now o'er the course of the next hour, this scene was't repeated twice again, save that upon the final engagement, Beinvír also took part, for the Yrch numbered a dozen. The Green Elf came amongst the enemy in a crouch, her knives flickering while'st her partner's sword hewed off heads above her. By this point, the three had advanced so far into the enemy lair that they could hear a drone of voices echoing through the tunnels in a constant hum. More tunnels too they found intersecting, some delving deeper and a rare few rising higher.

Shortly after their last engagement, Bartan indicated a tunnel leading down to a lower level, and they made their way hence to a less populated section of that subterranean maze, whereupon, they presumed, some dungeons were to be found.

"For the first time I hath caught a scent of some not of the Glamhoth," Bartan whispered. "I deem we hath found at last 'aught of what we seek."

Helluin and Beinvír nodded and now followed behind him with drawn weapons. The passages here were dimly lit by a miserly number of sputtering torches that choked the space with sooty smoke and the stench of spoilage. While'st passing one, Beinvír wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Ugh. Rags soaked in rancid grease," she muttered. "Care they not for the rendering of fats?" At an amused look from her partner she chided herself with, "Of course they care not. They art Yrch. Of what could I hath been thinking?"

Now the trio passed some sturdy doors set upon crude but sound hinges. These were secured with hasp and padlock, both rusty and of haphazard workmanship, yet like the hinges, stout enough to be serviceable for the confinement of the prisoners within. The cells behind the doors seemed to be for the most part deserted, and the trio passed them by, still following Bartan's nose. He sniffed carefully at each door, passing some with a growl and others with a sad shaking of his head, but rejecting them all one by one.

'Twas at the end of the dungeon that they came at last to the furthest door, and this the only one with a window hole cut in it, and spanned with a pair of iron bars. Bartan sniffed once at the threshold and then quickly moved to the window. Helluin and Beinvír drew in close behind him, the Noldo casting wary glances back the way they had come.

"Helluin, station thyself at the entrance, I pray thee," Bartan requested, "and there waylay any coming hither. The prisoners art within and I must free them."

Helluin nodded once to him and set off, quickly and silently retracing their steps to the dungeon entrance. From there she heard a rising clamor echoing down from the levels above. She sighed. 'Twas no doubt their earlier victims coming to light at last. She looked back to where Bartan and Beinvír stood and let her eyes flare with blue battle-light, catching her beloved's attention.

_I warn thee; hasten thy efforts. Our presence hath been marked!_

In the same moment, her sensitive ears heard again the stretching sound. She heard Beinvír's almost silent feet backpedaling in haste a couple fathoms. And then she heard a low growl, and with it a rending of metal and a splintering of wood, followed by a subdued crash. From above she heard the cursing of the Yrch and a grating voice shouting commands in the Black Speech. Some parts she struggled to translate, enough to know that a search was't ordered. _Not long hath we now,_ she thought, _and only with difficulty shalt we win free to the surface._

Now from behind her came the snapping of the chains of bondage and the shaky voices of prisoners speaking Sindarin, but they were not the voices of Elves. Rather, they were the voices of Naugrim, weakened by thirst and ill-treatment. Precious heartbeats passed as they were given water. Thence came a rapid but stumbling flight of feet, no less than eight pairs, she wagered. _Good, they move quickly, _Helluin thought, _none lamed nor too badly weakened for flight._ _Would that we had weapons they could wield…ahhh well._

Moments long as Ages of the world seemed to pass ere the prisoners came with Bartan at their head and Beinvír at their rear to where Helluin stood. She little liked the arrangement yet could not gainsay it.

The prisoners, she saw, were grim and had suffered much abuse at the hands of their captors, and yet they were hale and hardy after the fashion of their kindred. Despite crude bandages covering untended wounds, most of their hurts appeared to be minor and the Dwarves seemed to be in good spirits. Eagerly did they eye the passage leading upwards, and they were undaunted by the echoing voices of the Yrch ahead.

"I should give gold for a good axe in this moment," one muttered close by Helluin's elbow. She looked down at him as he eyed her sword with a covetous glance. A grin shaped her lips and she drew forth her dagger and offered it to him, hilt first. The Dwarf took it eagerly, bowing deeply to her and smiling broadly.

"I thank thee, O dark warrior of the Eldar. I am Garen son of Guron of Khazad-dûm, and I hope to anoint thy blade with the blood of our enemies in thanks," he said.

Helluin nodded to him and then turned her attention again to the way ahead, wishing she had more than one blade to spare. At the back of the group, Beinvír proffered her own dagger to another of the Naugrim, having seen what had transpired 'twixt Helluin and Garen, and he too received the gifted weapon thankfully.

Now 'twas Bartan who led them hence, and in his bear form he was't bulky and broad, such that no foe could hath passed by him in the confines of the tunnel to threaten the company behind. Sparks were struck from his claws upon the rock floor of the tunnel, and from behind him came the fiery blue of Helluin's eyes.

They had barely gained the level above the dungeons when screeching and cursing in the Black Speech betrayed their escape. The clatter of many feet reported a great company of Yrch hastening to waylay them and all steeled themselves for battle. Now the tunnel they'd ascended from met upon the upper level with a way that stretched off in two directions, and from both charged enemies thick as flies upon a carcass. With many a howl and guttural cry they came recklessly on, their black hearts bolstered by their numbers. 'Twas as if shadows had sprung to life, jerky in the torchlight, and brandishing a forest of cruel and jagged blades.

**To Be Continued**

9


	80. In An Age Before Chapter 80

**In An Age Before – Part 80

* * *

**

The company's flight took on an earnest desperation in the face of so many foes, for there was't no choice but to fly from one threat into another. Bartan leapt forward with a great roar and the rest of the company pressed in behind him. The Yrch could but fall back before him, for with a swipe of his paw would he send sprawling any within reach. Yet behind him came a terror absent from Hithaeglir for so long that 'twas regarded as but a dark myth whispered amongst the Glamhoth. Here indeed was't that nightmare which their kind had met of old, the bringer of their doom who had stalked them for o'er an Age. Even in their folk's greatest triumph of Morgoth's War, the Nirnaeth Arnoediad that withered Beleriand in the First Age long aforetime, they had come to fear her.

The flickering torchlight was't eclipsed and a blinding radiance flared in that deep place. Helluin blazed with Holy Light as she had upon the fields of Eriador at the battles of Sarn Athrad and Tharbad. Her eyes flared with blue fire, and as Bartan plowed into the Yrch she cried out, _"Beltho Huiniath"_ and swung her blade.

Now the press of bodies to the fore kindled the fire of battle lust in Helluin's veins, for rightly did she deem the situation desperate. Though none could withstand Bartan or Helluin, still those behind were at risk from the foes unfought who followed. Thus, with enemies both before and behind, they contrived to set such a pace as would lessen the danger to the Naugrim who followed, and to Beinvír who guarded the rear of their column. A quick glance Helluin allowed herself o'er her shoulder, and she saw the eight Dwarves running as fast as they had ever run in their lives. Behind them hastened the Green Elf, a fighting knife in each hand, bow and quiver o'er her shoulder, warily keeping watch on their pursuers who followed too few paces behind her for comfort. The situation tormented Helluin; her beloved trapped 'twixt eight Dwarves that the fleet-footed elleth could easily outrun and a tunnel-filling gaggle of black-hearted Glam.

In response, Helluin vented her fear and frustration on the enemies ahead of her, hewing off heads, arms, and legs, and cowing all with her Holy Light, while'st beside her the great bear slammed aside or bowled o'er those too slow to avoid him. A second glance back did Helluin chance, and in horror saw the foremost of the Glam strike at her lover's back with a jagged and rusty halberd. With a cry of rage, she flung the deadly Sarchram behind her, but could not remain facing backwards to watch its flight. She was't forced to turn back to slaying those ahead, but she rejoiced as she heard the shrieks of fear from the Glam as the enchanted Ring's flight brought death to all in its path. With blinding speed it careened amongst them, ricocheting from weapon to armor to wall, hewing flesh and gristle, bone and steel ere it rebounded and made its return. Helluin marked its approaching whine and snatched it from the air, slick with hot, black blood. The running battle continued with the Yrch ahead fleeing in a rout and those behind charging after, and all moving ever closer to the surface.

Now had all remained as it had, 'twas likely that the rescue would hath won free to the surface. But the delvings of the Yrch were many, for through uncounted years that maggot folk had they dug 'neath the sheer heights of the Hithaeglir. Tunnel connected to tunnel and in the everlasting darkness had formed a maze with many intersections and many levels. None knew all of that warren save those who had made it, and so while those in retreat led them on, others contrived an ambush as their fellows behind drove their prey forward.

By Helluin's reckoning they had come well 'nigh halfway from the dungeons when disaster struck. Bartan barreled past the dark mouth of a side tunnel that joined their own way. Therein for a fraction of a heartbeat as she came 'nigh, Helluin swore she saw motion amidst the blackness. Ere she could say 'aught, she and Bartan were past, but in that moment a cave Torog with black leather armor and a dusky hide lurched into the midst of the fleeing Dwarves, scattering them and disarraying their company. Thence a band of Yrch followed the hulking beast, driving a wedge 'twixt Bartan and Helluin upon one side, and the five hindmost Naugrim and Beinvír upon the other.

The Torog immediately stomped upon the nearest of the Dwarves and all heard the wet, sickening crunch of crushed bones. He was't dead in an instant. For what seemed an eternity the company stood paralyzed, and then with a quickness that shocked even Helluin, the Dwarf to whom she had loaned her dagger cried out and charged, fey with anguish and wrath. With a mighty thrust powered by all his hatred, he plunged her dagger hilt-deep into the Torog's calf, high up, just 'neath his knee, and the massive creature howled in pain. From beyond the wall of his bulk came the desperate sounds of weapons clashing and many cries.

Now somewhat of that dagger's tale should here be told, for 'twas a fell and enchanted blade, and a bitter wound did it deal. No iron of Middle Earth had made that weapon, nor had any fire of the Hither Lands touched it in its making. Helluin's dagger was't indeed the same that she had once unsheathed to face the Glam after the breaking of her sword in the Fall of Gondolin. Upon the bloodied, trampled grass of Tumladen she had held it, defying her enemies ere fate had delivered Anguirél to her hand. That dagger was't dear to her, but yet 'twas a weapon only and had no voice. Still, she had brought it from Aman in the time of her Exile, had forged it as a student with counsel of Aule, and it had been tempered in the Eternal Fires of the Vala's furnace in the Days of the Two Trees. Few weapons in Middle Earth could boast such ancientry or pedigree. The Light of Aman had suffused it from ore to final polish, and as the Light upon the nine arrowheads that Helluin had held in the glow of the _palantír _of Elostirion had stricken the Úlairi, so too did Helluin's dagger now carve a festering wound in the stone-flesh of the Torog. When the Dwarf jerked free the blade, the wound glowed with a spreading _ril_ of Holy Light.

The stricken Torog lurched and stomped and staggered to and fro in its anguish. To such a one for whom even the light of Anor was't fatal, the Light of Aman, Anor's primal source, was't yet more deadly still. Now, rather than being at once suffused 'neath the sun and turned in a heartbeat to stone, rather the wound of Helluin's dagger brought a quick-spreading consumption which leapt through the Torog's body, making it shine out briefly like a lamp, and bringing death by degrees and with much suffering. The creature howled in its death throes and its cries rocked the deep-hewn tunnels. The Dwarves had shied away at its onslaught, but not so the Yrch who had followed it. Many of these were now trampled to ruin in the beast's last flailing moments.

Now when finally the Torog fell and lay still at last and the light suffusing it died away, the carcass was't burnt from within, and as t'were a cinder hewn into the shape of a creature, blackened, pock-marked, and cold. Its bulk blocked the better part of the tunnel save for some scant space to the sides and 'neath the tunnel's roof.

With the fall of their champion the fey courage of the enemy vanished. The Yrch gave back from the sight of such Elven magick in horror and they fled again into the depths of their tunnels shrieking. Helluin and Bartan were left alone with two Dwarves, standing still in the darkness and silence.

A moment passed and then Helluin's light flared again, but this time with the intensity of her fear. In a heartbeat she leapt atop the stilled form of the Torog and frantically hastened o'er its remains. Somewhere in the tunnel behind were Beinvír and five more of the Naugrim, and the pursuing company of Yrch, but now from that direction an ominous silence prevailed. 'Twas as she leapt down again that she saw revealed, four of the five Gonnhirrim clustered about two fallen figures. One was't a Dwarf, obviously beyond help, for a jagged black scimitar protruded from his chest and he breathed not. The other was't Beinvír. Save for those Helluin saw and a single dead Orch with cloven neck, the way stood deserted. The Yrch on the hither side of the fallen Torog too had fled.

Helluin couldn't make her way to Beinvír's side fast enough. 'Twas as thou her heart froze chill as the ice of the Helcaraxe within her chest. She brushed aside the Dwarves clustered 'nigh and raised the fallen Green Elf in her arms as she knelt. Beinvír's head lolled back against her armored chest and her eyes fluttered. Upon her face lay an expression of torment. Tight clenched and grim was't her jaw. Clammy felt her skin and an unnatural pallor had taken hold upon it. Yet Beinvír breathed still and hope flared in the Noldo's heart. A quick glance reported the wound that had brought her down; a cowardly stab in the back.

"She was't stricken from behind," a Dwarf softly confirmed to Helluin while'st remaining respectfully two steps away. "Thither lies the hilt shard."

He gestured to a fallen black haft lying 'nigh upon the floor. What Helluin guessed to be half the blade's length was't still attached, but it ended in a jagged break. She noted that 'twas not a weapon of the Glamhoth. No crude work of their forges was't this, but rather 'twas finely finished, yet fell and dark. Helluin could feel menace seeping from it.

"I deem the blade shard lies still within the wound," the Dwarf said sadly, "for in turning to hew the neck of her attacker, her motion snapped the weapon asunder."

He reached down to retrieve the hilt, but Helluin sharply warned him to stop.

"Touch it not! 'Tis o'erlain with fell enchantments," she said, "I feel their presence. There art runes upon the grip in the Black Speech of Sauron. I deem 'tis a blade forged in Mordor for the bane of the Eldar during the last war. How it came hither I know not."

She laid a hand upon Beinvír's forehead and softly called her name. The Green Elf stirred a bit, but opened not her eyes nor spoke. Her breathing remained quick and shallow. Helluin sighed. 'Twas a wound that should surely prove fatal if untreated, and she had not the herbs for a cure. Now indeed she felt time press hard upon her. With each moment, Beinvír's life slipped away.

Frustration and rage grew within her heart, kindling a deadly wrath that lit her eyes with blue fire. Into a pouch she pushed the hilt shard, using the blade of the Sarchram and touching it not directly herself. Then she gathered up her beloved and leapt up again upon the fallen Torog. The Naugrim followed more clumsily, hauling their slain companion with them, for they would leave none of their kindred behind in a den of Yrch.

Thereafter 'twas with single-minded purpose that Helluin moved, passing the others, Bartan and the Dwarves, in silence. She used her memories of the way to make her path to the surface. The others hastened to follow in somber silence, the Naugrim carrying their two dead, Bartan guarding their rear. All that way Helluin blazed with the Light of Aman, brightening the dark tunnels as if they lay 'neath the noontime of Anor, yet within her, her heart was't black with rage and fear. Upon that dismal march no further enemies did she see. Whatever Yrch that may hath marked their passage remained hid and stayed them not. 'Twas as if such creatures of the darkness could most easily mark the darkness in another.

Dark indeed was't Helluin's mood. Indeed 'twas darker in those hours and in the days that followed than it had been in an Age. Not since the final battle 'nigh Tharbad had she felt such rage. She recalled her words to Glorfindel in SA 1675, and they rang true to her yet the more now than then.

_"She refused passage to Tol Eressëa to stay with me," Helluin whispered. And after a pause, she added even more softly, "I would bathe this world in blood to avenge her." _

If Beinvír died she would do worse than ever she had aforetime; indeed in the bloodbath she would unleash, there would be no time from slaying for atrocities.

At the last Helluin took a final look at the cave, marking its placement indelibly in her memories. Alone of all the company, Garen son of Guron dared come to her, and with sorrowful glance he silently proffered two daggers, hers and Beinvír's. For a moment only did Helluin's expression soften, and as she took the weapons she offered the Dwarf a grim smile of thanks. Then, with but a nod of farewell to the Man and the other Dwarves, she made her way in haste, returning thither from whence she had come, o'er the pass to Imladris.

Four days journey it had been from the Hidden Valley to the cave, when Helluin and Beinvír had come hence. Now Helluin walked quickly and without pause, through day and night alike, until early upon the third day she came to the lowest reaches of the pass and thence to the realm of Elrond. Thither she was't met by guards and word of her plight was't conveyed to the lord, but Helluin continued to bear her lover in her arms until she at last reached the House of Healing. Thence she laid the Green Elf abed in that very same room in which they had stayed aforetime, and thither Elrond came to them.

With a single look he marked the wound, and when Helluin gingerly dropped the hilt shard from the pouch upon a table, he shivered. He then laid a hand upon the Green Elf's forehead and closed his eyes. For long moments he remained thus in concentration, while'st Helluin fretted and paced, seething and unable to remain still. Yet at last he blinked and looked to her, and though he appeared weary, in his eyes Helluin saw hope.

"Verily should she hath already succumbed to this wound, for 'tis poisoned in spirit by the spell that was't cast upon the blade in its making. Not by her native strength did she last so long, but in her there dwells a Light unlike a Moriquende. 'Tis this that hath sustained her, and now we hath a chance of curing her."

Then Elrond sent forth for herbs and heated water, and when these were brought he tended Beinvír with his knowledge and his gifts. Many hours he labored at her side, first withdrawing the deep-seated blade shard and then treating the spirit-poisoning of the _mórgúl_**¹** wound. Slowly did Beinvír begin to breath more easily. Slowly the warmth returned to her limbs. The Green Elf stirred not, nor awoke, yet color returned to her cheeks and the tortured creases smoothed upon her brow. Whereas aforetime she had held clenched her jaw, now this too relaxed and she seemed but to sleep deeply, as a mortal weary with great toil. Through it all Helluin paced like a tortured beast upon the verges of a rampage, vacillating 'twixt bright hope and dark fury. A palpable aura of shadow radiated from her _fëa_ as it were a fume of the heart. This Elrond marked, and knowing the Noldo, deemed he had again two to cure.

**¹**(**mórgúl, _black sorcery_** Sindarin)

"Rest now she needs most," Elrond told Helluin, "yet I would that thou stay beside her. Hold her hand and fill thy heart with thy love for her. Think not for this time upon vengeance, but rather of thy devotion and hope. Gift to thy beloved that which heals the heart as I hath healed her body and spirit. Bring her back to the light."

He laid a comforting hand upon Helluin's shoulder and gave it a squeeze ere he turned and took his leave. Beinvír would awaken, of this he had little doubt, but without a great and compelling reason to cleave to her life, she might well despair of Middle Earth and seek passage into the West for the surcease of her wound's anguish. A shadow would ever after dwell upon her spirit, yet it could be o'ercome…perhaps. Of this he had hope.

At Elrond's leaving Helluin clenched tight shut her eyes. The _Peredhel_ had laid a choice before her and she stood before an abyss. She could retain her native hatred and lust for vengeance, or foreswear it and gift to her beloved such Light as dwelt in her soul. With great effort she fought back the darkness of her wrath, constraining it and setting it aside for another day. Life was't long and there would be time for restitution, but for now, no consideration outshone the need to save Beinvír. Either there would be light and life, or a world forever black to her heart.

Thereafter the dark Noldo sat beside her beloved, silent, still, and consumed with hope. In every moment she poured out her heart's love to her silent partner, thereby holding at bay the conflagration of wrath that had sought to consume her. Elves of Elrond's household came and went in silence, lighting candles and bringing food and drink, but never intruding upon her concentration. Those amongst them gifted with Sight perceived a subtle glow encompassing the two ellith, an aura barely to be seen, that reported upon the bond 'twixt their souls. Thus for many days did Helluin attend her lover, and in that time, Beinvír strayed upon many paths ere she first heard faintly Helluin's heart calling her back to the world.

'Twas ten days after taking her wound that the Green Elf first opened her eyes and squinted at her surroundings. Last she had recalled, she had been in cold darkness and a sudden stabbing pain had driven her from consciousness and into a well of icy water that had enveloped her and dragged her down into blackness. 'Naught of time or life had she felt since. Almost her _fëa_ had been driven forth from her _hroa_ to wander a shadowed land in unending fear, lost, alone, and abandoned. Yet she had not been abandoned, and she was't not alone, and now that she could again feel 'aught of that around her, she felt herself wrapped as in a cocoon of warmth and love that sheltered her heart. It came from close beside her and thither she turned her glance. There sat Helluin, eyes closed in concentration, with a glow of golden light about her.

"Helluin…" she managed to croak from a throat parched by days of disuse. 'Twas barely a whisper, but the Noldo heard. At once she snapped open her eyes and stared.

In the next instant Beinvír was't smothered in a hug of desperate thanksgiving. The tide of love that washed o'er her well 'nigh drowned her in its waves and drove forth the last of her fear. Helluin snatched her beloved up and held her close, shuddering and weeping and blubbering incoherently, so great was't her relief that its outpouring could not be stayed. Long did she envelope the Green Elf ere she relaxed the circle of her arms and looked into the bright grey eyes she'd prayed to see again. A smile slowly crept o'er her face, lighting her own eyes as the two sat face to face.

"Water…" Beinvír choked out in request. At first Helluin couldn't understand why she would speak of water, and for a moment even feared that her lover sought to go 'cross the sea into the West. Finally the Green Elf weakly gestured to a pitcher and goblet that Helluin sheepishly hastened to fill and bring to her. She drank with the greed of long borne thirst at last assuaged and drained the cup ere she finished with a great sigh and a contented smile. The first sentence out of her mouth was't, "I find myself famished, my love. Indeed I feel as though I hath not eaten in days. Hath thou any victuals to hand?"

Helluin could not help but laugh with giddy relief ere she called out for food. In short order an attendant brought forth cakes and soup and cheese, and joyous word was't sent to Elrond that his patient had recovered. The Lord of Imladris had the good sense to delay his visit until the two ellith had reacquainted themselves ere he came to check upon Beinvír's condition.

Now when Elrond came thither he found them at their ease; Helluin reclining against the headboard, Beinvír languorously stretched out and using her as a backrest. Empty plates and cups sat upon a side table attesting to recovered appetites. He smiled at them and Helluin captured his eyes.

_Nothing I can offer can suffice to express my thanks, meldir nin. If 'aught of my service thou woulds't ask, I shalt perform it full willing in token of a debt I can never repay._

_Perhaps in some day to come I shalt ask 'aught of thee, O Helluin. Perform it then as a friend rather than one indebted, I pray thee._

Helluin nodded her agreement to this request. Whether as friend or debtor she would do well 'nigh anything he could ask in appreciation for the saving of her beloved.

Now Elrond sought to examine Beinvír's wound, and looking at her back where the blade had penetrated, he saw thither a black line, thin as a thread, yet stark against her pale skin. He sighed but smiled nonetheless.

"Thou art healed so well as 'tis within my power to achieve," he told the Green Elf, "and long life shalt thou hath if 'tis to be thy fate. Yet I deem the mark of thy wound shalt persist and remain with thee so long as thou shalt wear thy _hroa_, for thou hast been cured of the bite of a _mórgúl_ blade, and such a wound the body remembers forever. Indeed few live to bear such a mark. Good fortune thou hast had."

"My thanks, Lord Elrond," Beinvír said, bowing her head, "for returning me thus to light and the world, for I had fallen into darkness and was't lost indeed. I shalt bear this mark as a proud and blessed survivor."

"Thank not only me, Beinvír, for not by my skills alone was't thou cured. As much as my herbs and potions did the love of thy partner stand thee to health, for my medicines could not cure thy heart nor restore thy will to live." Elrond nodded to Helluin and then offered them a smile ere he withdrew. And when, upon a future day of sorrow, a similar wound incompletely cured would lead to one of his two most bitter losses, he would remember with longing the pure and powerful love that had cured the Green Elf that day.

**To Be Continued**

8


	81. In An Age Before Chapter 81

**In An Age Before – Part 81**

_Author's Note: A short update this week folks. Doing income taxes stole my editing time. Helluin and Beinvir remained longat peace in Eriador, but of latethey hath marked the firstdarkening of the days as the Third Age progresses, and so a new adventure begins._**

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**Chapter Fifty-two**

_**A Journey to Gondor – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now after Beinvír's wound was't healed, the two ellith chose to return to Eriador, and thither they roamed in peace for many a year. In T.A. 130 a messenger from Imladris sought them and reported the birth of twin sons to Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian, naming them Elladan and Elrohir. Helluin and Beinvír rejoiced for their friends in the Hidden Valley and sent gifts with the returning messenger.

From wandering companies of Sindar who had contact with Men they learnt of the successions in the southern kingdom of the Dúnedain. After ruling for 156 years, their old friend Meneldil passed on the crown of Gondor to his son Cemendur, and he ruled for but 80 years ere his son Eärendil took the throne in 238. He was't followed by Anardil in 324 and Ostoher in 411. In the northern kingdom, Valandil son of Isildur ruled for 239 years, ere his son Eldacar succeeded him in T.A. 249. Thereafter thereigns of the kings in the north shortened asthey had in the south. Eldacar passed on the Scepter of Annúminas to his son Arantar in 339. He was't followed by Tarcil in 435. During all those years both realms enjoyed peace and growing prosperity.

Also during those years one further tiding of great joy came to Helluin and Beinvír. In T.A. 241 the same messenger came again from Imladris announcing the birth of a daughter to his lord and lady. This child the couple had named Arwen.

From the moment of her birth Arwen had been deemed a great beauty and had stolen the hearts of all who met her. Indeed the visiting Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had been well 'nigh the first to fall 'neath her spell, doting upon the babe like exemplary and devoted grandparents. The sight of the distinguished Lord Celeborn cooing and prattling for Arwen's amusement while'st his wife, the reserved Lady Galadriel, blew raspberries upon her soft cheeks, had been a sight deemed 'historical' in Imladris. The messenger chortled with mirth as he described many such scenes. The two ellith rejoiced in his tales and sent him forth upon his return with blessings and gifts for the babe.

"Said I not aforetime that '…_they shalt soon hath beautiful children'_," Beinvír reminded her lover after the messenger had departed. Helluin grinned at the memory.

"And said I not aforetime of Celeborn and Galadriel that _'I am sure thou shalt both make wonderful babysitters'_?" Helluin asked as she chuckled at the messenger's stories.

For a time life was't good and few concerns of the outside world contrived to upset the peace of Helluin and Beinvír, yet such peace could not remain unsullied upon the Hither Shores. In late 490 word passed amongst the Elves of Eriador reporting battle in the southern kingdom of the Dúnedain.

'Twas said that kingdoms of the Easterlings, Wild Men from tribes living 'nigh the Sea of Rhûn had confederated, and some of these had at last crossed Anduin and assailed Gondor. For many centuries these barbarians had waged wars amongst themselves, involving their chiefdoms not in the affairs of the west. Yet of late had some sought common cause against their ancient foes 'cross the great river, for some tales were still remembered amongst those peoples telling of their slaughter in Eriador while'st in the service of Sauron, their o'erlord and god. Thither they had directed the strength and hatred of their new-formed unions, while'st seeking new lands of their own far from their war-ravaged homes, and they came thence against the east marches of Calenardhon.

Under the command of the King's Heir Tarostar, the eastern division of Gondor's army repelled them, driving them finally in a bloody rout before the cavalry. Many an Easterling perished in the River Anduin and the embittered survivors swore vengeance.

Two years later, Tarostar took the name _Rómendacil_, which signified East Victor, when he was't crowned eighth King of Gondor, and he made strong the eastern borders of his land. In that time too did he seek friendship with the Men of Rhovanion, the North Men who lived about the River Celduin. To these, Tarostar, (and later his son Turambar also), gave fiefs in those lands they won east of Anduin, to be held in allegiance with the kings.

In T.A. 500 the new king won yet another decisive victory and handed the Easterlings a stinging defeat. 'Twas folly for them to continue their campaign against the southern kingdom, and yet they were deemed fey in their hatred of the Dúnedain. Though repelled and worsted in each battle, they came again and again, and some amongst the Wise soon believed that they were subject to some dark agitation in their own lands; some fell power that encouraged them and drove them forth as if with madness. As the years passed the incursion of the Easterling tribes was't oft repeated. Now added to their grievances of old was't the vengeance sworn after their defeats at the hands of the king. In 541 the wars finally claimed the life of the king when Rómendacil I fell in combat.

Upon the king's death his son took the crown of the south with the name Turambar, ninth King of Gondor, and he crossed Anduin with an army of 75,000. Thither he took the fight to the Easterlings, routing them and slaughtering them in every place he found them, and great was't the count of their losses. Then in the interest of the increased security of his realm, Turambar annexed a swath of land east of Anduin, to be held by his North Men allies as a buffer against incursions from the East. Thither too he posted companies of swift cavalry, and he gave their captains free rein to seek and destroy any such enemies of the crown as they were wont to discover. Thereafter Gondor enjoyed a guarded peace for a time.

In the north, Tarcil was't succeeded in T.A. 515 by Tarondor, and he in T.A. 602 by Valandur. Now in 652 King Valandur was't reported slain, though the cause was't not known by the Eldar of Eriador. Still, he was't succeeded by his son, Elendur, who ruled as the ninth King of Arnor, until T.A. 777. Thereafter he was't succeeded by his son, Eärendur, the tenth King of Arnor and the last High King of the Dúnedain in that time.

Now Eärendur had three sons and there was't great dissension amongst them. For many centuries the realm of Arnor had been ruled only with difficulty from Annúminas, for 'twas a broad land of several characters and the Dúnedain were spread thinly 'cross it. Never had their great numbers lost in the War of the Last Alliance been recovered. Therefore the princes of the House of Isildur contested and disputed, and when Eärendur handed o'er his scepter in 867, he divided his kingdom into three lesser realms, Arthedain, Rhudaur, and Cardolan. Thence the aging king committed the rule of one realm to each of his sons. Thus the high kingdom of Arnor was't no more, and with it went the claim of its regent to the High Kingship of the Dúnedain.

Predictably this arrangement satisfied none. Though supposedly coequal, the Kingdom of Arthedain encompassed the northwestern heartland of what had been Arnor. Thither lay both Annúminas and Fornost Erain, each with its _palantír_, and thither also was't the border with Mithlond and the Elven lands of Lindon. 'Twixt Rhudaur and Cardolan lay the Weather Hills and Amon Sûl, and though in his wisdom King Eärendur had intended that two sons share this tower and the chief _palantír_ of the north which was't housed thither, 'twas not in their nature to share 'aught. The possession of the Tower of the Wind was't contested by Rhudaur and Cardolan, and resentment was't felt 'twixt both kingdoms and Arthedain, their more favored sister realm to the west. Thus the confederacy of the Dúnedain in the north kingdom fell prey to disharmony, and in latter days this estrangement contributed greatly to their fall. In the end only the _palantír_ of Elostirion, standing in its shapely tower upon the White Downs, was't preserved, but that tower and the land upon which it stood had been deemed a precinct of the Elven lands of Lindon since of old, and so no Man dared lay claim to it.

Now in those days Helluin, (ever suspicious since the fall of Isildur and the loss of Sauron's Ring), perceived the first actions of the Great Enemy. In the assaults of the Easterlings in the south and the disunity of the Dúnedain in the north, she sensed the return of Sauron's influence. Whether through pugnacious proxies or the ill-will of familial contention, his immaterial spirit had indeed struck against his old foes, the Men of Westernesse. By such wiles he had slain a king in Gondor and broken the solidarity of the realm of Arnor. Perhaps too his influence had led to the fall of King Valandur in the north. O'er these things, Helluin brooded, deeming the days numbered ere Sauron or his servants came again openly against Men and Elves and Dwarves.

"I wager the evil of old arises anew, _meldis meldwain nin_," Helluin remarked to Beinvír o'er supper at their campfire 'nigh Tharbad one night, "and sooner than we would wish it, war shalt be visited upon us again as well."

"I hath marked thy disquiet for many years now, _meldanya_," the Green Elf admitted. "Much as I am loath to believe thus, I must agree. I too perceive a fell influence upon events and I hath seen too many years come and go now to ignore what tidings report."

Helluin looked into her lover's eyes. Though she had ever regarded the Green Elf as young, she realized that her companion now counted o'er 4,060 years of life. Indeed she was't now older than Helluin had been when the Noldo had followed her lord Turgon to Gondolin. Beinvír had lived long and seen much of the world and much of its events.

"I deem we should make our way south again, my love. I deem that whatsoever danger doth arise, we shalt see it first in Gondor."

To this, Beinvír reluctantly nodded in agreement. The southern kingdom was't now ruled by Tarannon, about whose reign some strange stories had been heard. 'Twas 18 Lothron, (May 18th), T.A. 870.

**To Be Continued**


	82. In An Age Before Chapter 82

**In An Age Before – Part

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From Tharbad the two ellith made their way southeast, following the Great South Road into Calenardhon by passing the _Iách Angren_**¹ **upon 1 Nórui. Thither a few horses only did they spy, and 'naught of the Drúedain did they mark. Neither had they met any of those descendants of the Men of the Ered Nimrais, now called Dunlendings. These had migrated west into the lands once inhabited by the Enedwaith, who had been for the most part exterminated in the cataclysmic Whelming of Númenórë. Helluin and Beinvír soon marked Angrenost to the north, whereupon four sharp spires rose atop that ribbed and buttressed tower in its sheltered vale 'neath the steep slopes of Methedras. Upon the trail leading east they found some evidence of errand riders and guard companies of Gondor, yet none did they meet upon that road. Another fortnight and five days did they continue their journey through Anórien, 'twixt _Sîr Onodló_**²** and the Ered Nimrais. Slowly the Hithaeglir fell behind them as they crossed the rolling, open grasslands 'neath the White Mountains' shadows. Thankfully, all about them seemed at peace.

**¹**(**Iách Angren, **called by Men,**_ The Fords of Isen_**, **_Iách_**(ford) +**_ Angren_**(Isen) Sindarin)

**²**(**Sîr Onodló, **called by Men the **_River Entwash,_** **_Sîr_**(River) + **_Onod_**(Ent) + **_ló_**(swamp) Sindarin)

At last, upon 20 Nórui, (June 20th), Helluin and Beinvír came to a narrow, forested valley 'twixt the range and its outlying hills. They had made their way towards the mountains, crossing the wagon road that ran thither and gaining the upslope. 'Twas a shortcut they knew from long aforetime when all that land had been under the watch of the Guardians of Lebennin. Thence as evening drew down they repaired to their rest amidst dark and gnarled pines, wherein a watchful stillness lay o'er all as if the wood held its breath. The land lay tense as did Greenwood at times, and ere long Helluin and Beinvír both sensed that they were not alone.

"Feel thou not that someone hath cast their eyes upon thee, _meldanya_?" Beinvír asked that night as the two ellith sat beside the embers of their fire that glowed from its bed in a shallow trench. Dinner was't past and the sky o'erhead fully dark.

"I hath indeed felt as one o'erseen," Helluin agreed, "and that since we crossed yonder wain-road."

"Yet none hath I marked either upon the road or amongst the trees," the Green Elf said.

"'Tis surely some kind endowed with a practiced stealth. 'Tis annoying and familiar. Thou hast felt such aforetime, hast thou not?"

"Indeed so, O Gôrgbu of Drúwaith Iaur."

Helluin groaned. They had come to the same conclusion. She immediately sought the shadow of every rock, dim 'neath Ithil's crescent sheen, piercing them for to see a telltale glint reflected from an inquisitive eye. She spied 'naught for evidence, nor had she expected to. With a sigh she shook her head and cast the remnants of tea from her cup. Beinvír stilled her own search, convinced of its futility.

"As aforetime, 'naught shalt we see save by chance should our watcher seek not to be seen," she said in resignation as she spread her ground cloth of many aardwolf pelts. "I am to my rest," she announced, setting her bow and quiver near to hand.

The Green Elf curled up 'neath her bedroll of felted cat hair and retired to her memories of a much earlier trip. Helluin watched o'er her for a while as she waited for the embers to die down, and then took up her own place upon a quilt of scrap pelts, reclining with one eye slitted open and still straining to catch any movement or change in the shadows. She lay with Anguirél's hilt 'neath one hand and the Sarchram 'nigh the other. 'Twas yet another vigil she would keep, for the thought of being watched while'st not being able to mark the watcher irked her.

_Gôrgbu, bah!_ She thought. _I shalt mark thee, O thou pug-faced_ nuithen laith**¹**_, for none living can'st remain ever still._

**¹**(**nuithen laith, _stunted spirit, nuitho-_**(stunt) + **_-en_**(pass past part suff, _-ed_)+ **_laith_(**spirit) Sindarin)

O'erhead Ithil made his was 'cross the heavens while'st familiar stars kept her company though the dark hours. Still as the mountain rocks lay Helluin, scarcely breathing, yet ever watchful did she remain, slowly scanning the dark night's vista for some telltale clue to the identify spy whose presence she felt without a doubt.

Now perhaps 'twas by some trick of the twinkling starlight, perhaps 'twas a gift of the Lady Elbereth, but some hours ere dawn Helluin suddenly became aware of the presence of not one watcher, but rather a cadre of them. It seemed as though 'twixt one moment and the next, she was't able to see them, for suddenly figures, a shade of dark just barely less than the dark about them, became visible. They remained well 'nigh motionless at first, but as all living things they breathed, they blinked, and ever, they watched. 'Twas almost as if their expenditure of energy in watching made them paler shadows against their backgrounds. Helluin smiled.

O'er the course of an hour she marked the stealthy movement of one, then the equally stealthy movement of another as all advanced towards the ellith's camp. Soon Helluin noted that each bore a short bow and had an arrow knocked upon the string. In the night she clasped more tightly Anguirél's hilt and roused Beinvír.

_Some come hither, beloved,_ the Noldo said silently eye to eye. _They advance upon us with stealth and knocked arrows upon their bows much as I would expect of Yrch. Think thou that I should warn them off?_

_Thou means to cast thither thy Sarchram? I wager thereby shalt we not see 'aught of them again for an Age save their arrows only. _

_I shalt await them a pace then,_ Helluin replied unhappily,_ but I shalt hail them ere they reach us, for such stalking I shalt not abide unchallenged._

_I understand, _Beinvír replied, very slowly grasping her bow. Her quiver stood but a hands breadth from her right hand and she could draw, aim, and fire in the blink of an eye.

Now when the stalkers had come 'nigh and stood but a score of paces off, Helluin indeed challenged them in the Common Tongue, deeming such the most likely speech to be understood. She remained prone, but snapped her eyes open and fixed them upon the target most close ahead.

"Who be ye come silent as thieves to our camp with weapons drawn as if for murder? Answer me, I charge ye!" Blue fire lit her eyes as she pinned thus immobile with her will he who crouched before her.

At her words all the figures froze as one, and for some moments no answer was't forthcoming. Helluin rose to a seated position and held the Grave Wing ready to cast.

"Answer me!" She demanded again, "or I shalt deem ye foes to be slain."

At this the figures cast glances to each other and at a nod from one to the right, all sat upon the ground, holding their bows upright beside them. Then the figure who appeared to be the leader slowly set his own bow upon the ground and shuffled forward until he stood but a fathom from the fire, facing Helluin 'cross its trench. Thither he took a seat, cross-legged upon the ground, and laid his open hands palms down upon his thighs. He was't in all respects well 'nigh identical to the Drúadan she had met in _Drúwaith Iaur_ millennia aforetime; squat, flat-faced, thick-bodied, and for the most part bereft of expression. After a moment he spoke poorly in the Common Tongue with a low and grating voice, as if two boulders enchanted had been rubbed together to shed their muteness for the unpracticed art of speech.

"I Ghâr-buri-Ghâr," he declared, thumping his chest with his open palm. "I lesser headman. Great headman tell do…watch valley," he said while slowly sweeping an arm out to encompass the land about them. "Ye not of Stone Man's city. Ye not horse. Ye not _gorgûn_**¹**.Bright eyes, like _gôrgbu_-kind in myth. Who ye? Why here?" He finished with a shrug and a grunt that sounded almost like a belch.

**¹**(**gorgûn, _Yrch,_** see LoTR, RotK, pg129. Drúedainic)

Helluin sighed. These were 'naught but border guards, it seemed. As in Eriador, apparently several realms coexisted upon the same lands.

"I Helluin Maeg-mórmenel," she said, thumping her chest, "she Beinvír Laiquende," she continued, gesturing with a nod of her head to Beinvír. "We come from west and north. We journey south and east after many lives of Men. We seek friends of old in Cities of Stone." Using the well 'nigh barbaric Common Tongue was't wearing upon her patience as if it left a bad taste upon her tongue.

"Ye _gôrgbu_-kind?" Ghâr-buri-Ghâr asked. His face shifted as if he were trying to raise one end of his heavy brow ridge with its attached eyebrow. Inwardly Helluin groaned.

"I not _gôrgbu_," Helluin replied with irritation. "I Elf-kind. She Elf-kind. We live. We real. We breath, eat, thirst as ye do."

"Unghhhhhhh," Ghâr-buri-Ghâr mused, affecting a sagacious mien, (much like an ape contemplating his digestion, Helluin thought uncharitably). He hawked and spat to help his concentration, then finally nodded to himself at some decision reached. "Ye go in peace. Ware ye cats."

With that pearl of wisdom he rose to his feet and gave the two ellith an awkward dip that passed for a bow, and then shuffled back to collect his bow. The other Drúedain also retreated, leaving Helluin and Beinvír alone.

Helluin raised a brow as she looked at her partner. _What, pray tell, think thou he meant by his warning against cats?_

_I hath no idea, _the Green Elf replied. She took a quick glance off into the shadows of the pine trees to see if the Drúedain had indeed left, then turned back. _Perhaps 'tis some newborn threat of Sauron's malice, like unto his wolves, but of felid-kind?_

_Huh. T'would be not beyond him, I deem, to corrupt thus yet another kindred, may the Valar curse his name._ She shook her head._ I deem we shalt see soon enough._

_Aye, no doubt, _Beinvír sighed in resignation. For a moment she saw in her mind's eye a great hissing cat well 'nigh the size of a bull, with cruel scimitar's curving from its upper jaw, a pink tongue dripping blood, and the light of mindless ferocity kindled in its eyes of yellow gold, wherein slitted black pupils opened upon the dark night of death, just like its master. She shivered. At the least it seemed her beloved's suspicions of their enemy's recovery were true. She wondered what the following days would bring.

When morning opened they set out again east. 'Naught of the Drúedain did they see upon the way. The valley wound 'twixt the slopes of the Ered Nimrais and a pair of steep, outlying hills ere it returned to the main track which curved south leading 'nigh Mindolluin. Thither in the distance rose the city of Minas Anor, dazzling white in the sun, with the light of mid-morning full upon its walls, kindling a glint of silver, bright upon the spike of the tower. High above in the shimmering air their sight marked the banner of black emblazoned with a white tree in flower 'neath seven stars, the heraldry of the House of Anárion.

Helluin and Beinvír left the valley behind and walked upon a wide dirt road whereupon the ruts of many wagon wheels ran in two parallel tracks, while'st beside it lay a grassy lane for the passage of riders. Thither at times they saw horsemen galloping, some in the livery of Gondor and some private couriers.

Now the road wound amongst pleasant orchards and farmlands green with crops. 'Twas a bountiful land and much as they remembered, for it seemed little changed save that perhaps the trees and vines were older and more laden with fruit, and more homesteads stood in the hamlets off the road. All signs reported prosperity and this gladdened their hearts. Indeed the closer they trod to the cities, the more frequent traffic became.

'Twas after an hour's walk that they came to a crossroads whereat one way led west to Minas Arnor and the other east to Osgiliath upon Anduin. The road continued on straight as well, leading thence towards the southern fiefs, to Pelargir and Belfalas. Upon that way the track wound beside the great river, following its curve west about Emyn Arnen ere it swung back east and made its way at last down to the sea. The Elves turned east, towards Osgiliath, wherein the Dome of Stars was't just visible amidst the towers and bridges of the city.

Now upon their trek thither, Helluin found herself helpless to ignore the memory of her ignominious arrival in the city aforetime, and her flight while'st a captive of Thorondor. _Stupid buzzard, _she thought, _save for his meddling I should hath thrown down the Enemy once and for all. Thence this realm and all others should know peace. Verily I deem his wisdom proceeds from an addled egg._ She huffed as she walked, while'st beside her Beinvír regarded her askance, unsure of the germ of her mood.

Helluin's mood was't no less dour when the two came upon a pair of soldiers of Gondor making their way from Osgiliath to Minas Anor. The Men were arguing in barely hushed tones which nevertheless came clearly to the Elves' sharp ears.

"'Twas surely some slip of thy tongue as hast consigned us thither to stand guard upon yonder walls for a fortnight," the taller of the two carped. He hefted his pack higher upon his stiff shoulders and fixed his companion with a bloodshot and scathing glance. The network of capillaries lacing his nose shone out against the pallor of his complexion.

"Nay, _Glavrol_**¹**," the shorter Man replied. "No word hast passed my lips reporting thy snacking and thy drinking. Search elsewhere for thy culprit. Indeed I am saddled with guilt as art thou, and yet more unfairly, for I partook not." **¹**(**_glavrol_**(babbling) Sindarin)

"Bah! So thou say, _Basthent_**¹**. Yet if not from thou, then wherefrom came the Queen's suspicions? None save thou was't rationing from the casks upon the night watch at our company's mess. Mayhaps thou too was't besotted and through lips thus loosened spoke rash? I deem it just so." Glavrol had stopped in his tracks and turned to face his comrade.

**¹**(**_Basthent_**, **Shortbread,** (**_bas(t)_**(bread) + **_thent_**(short) Sindarin)

The shorter Man had stopped now as well and faced his fellow soldier. His irritation at accusations heard aforetime was't obvious to see upon his reddened face. He let fall his own pack and placed his hands upon his hips.

"And I should say thine own lips hath wagged, incriminating us both; thou rightly and I needlessly. If either of us hath been wronged, 'tis I by thee, Glavrol. Thou can'st stay not thy hand from the wine even while'st upon duty. Now to thither walls we art both bound, and I should hath been the happier serving aboard ship!" He groaned and turned sharply back to the city, shaking his head and hoisting again his pack. His turn brought him 'nigh face to face with Helluin and he halted abruptly to avoid a collision as did she. Neither were happy about it and grimaced at each other ere civility ruled them.

"Thy pardon, noble warrior," Basthent said with a slight dip of his head after noting the long scabbard showing 'neath her cloak.

"Thy pardon, good soldier of Gondor," Helluin replied with equal deference.

Both took a half step to their right giving each other ample room to pass, and in so doing, Basthent espied the tip of a pointed ear amidst the inky fall of Helluin's hair. _Elves,_ he thought in shock,_ and 'naught of the Elder kindred hath been seen in the southern kingdom in many lives of Men. Whence…? _He was't about to speak and all would hath been well save for the following discourteous comment from Glavrol.

"Basthent, thou conduct thyself ever as a milquetoast, yielding the way to such beggarly types. I deem thy spine be of soft leather and fit only for thy duty in the larder, indeed not even worthy of assignment to the walls of yonder tower in time of peace."

"Peace, soldier of Gondor," Beinvír said. She stood to Helluin's right and therefore before Glavrol's path. "Upbraid not thy companion for offering his fair words. They reflect goodly upon his character. Ever of old were the lords Isildur and Anárion courteous to us, and none questioned their courage."

For a moment the tall soldier's face registered shock at being lectured thus by what he took to be a lowborn young rustic of Calenardhon. The Green Elf was't as ever cloaked in a patchwork cloak of mixed greens, a bow and quiver o'er her shoulder and worn boots upon her feet. She stood barely to his chin. He marked not that she was't of the Eldar kindred, noting only her apparent youth and wild, travel smudged beauty. Then his expression turned to disbelief and dismissal as he reviewed her words. The founding rulers of the southern realm had died long ago.

"Not a beggar only, but mad as well I deem thee, little ragamuffin," Glavrol sneered. "Isildur and Anárion art dead 'nigh 870 years and none can know 'aught of them save what is learnt from lore." He gestured to Basthent with his thumb, saying, "While'st he hast ever been weak-willed and book-bound, thou art 'naught but impudent. Now get thee hence from my way!"

He strode forward as if to force the Green Elf to yield to avoid being thrust aside.

"Be thee ware, _Húchwest_**¹**," Helluin warned in a cold voice as he came abreast of her. Her words were loud enough for his ears alone, but bone-chilling with menace. "She hast seen more years than thy kingdom and Númenor before it."

**¹**(**húchwest, _dog breath,_ _hú_**(dog) + **_chwest_**(breath) Sindarin)

The soldier jerked to a halt and spun to face the dark Noldo, but looking thence into her eyes he was't captured and constrained by Helluin's will. Thither lay blue wells of ancientry and power such as could drown a mortal spirit, wherein ghostly flames of sapphire flickered, barely to be seen. All thought fled him in that moment and he was't as one enthralled. Basthent watched wide-eyed. Thence Helluin assailed Glavrol's mind with a short scene that her beloved had shown her long before.

From high upon the twisting stair that climbed the Ephel Duath ere it made its accursed way down to Mordor, the Green Elf loosed a flaming arrow and it heralded the flight of scores of others as it sped towards the breaking of the gates of Minas Ithil 'neath the ram of Gondor. Fire and carnage and slaughter Helluin showed him, just as Beinvír had shown her. Thither had 30,000 of the enemy been put to the sword.

The whole exchange lasted but heartbeats and would hath gone unnoticed by most, but not by Basthent who stood 'nigh. He stared at the frozen pair as they stood facing each other, immobile upon the road, and his eyes were clear and sharp. Then Helluin blinked, extinguishing the light of her eyes, and Glavrol swayed and shook himself, but now his complexion was't ashen and damp from the horror of the violence he had seen. He stood in a daze, breathing fast and shallow as one stricken by nausea, while'st Beinvír walked 'round him to Helluin's other side.

"By Berúthiel's cats…" the tall soldier choked out, shuddering.

Long he stood thither and long Basthent watched him, but his thoughtful glance strayed also to the two figures walking away from them towards Osgiliath. For a moment as she'd passed, he'd glimpsed black mail and a bright Ring at the taller warrior's side 'neath her ragged cloak. Familiar it seemed to him somehow, as some bit of lore from a childhood fairytale learnt and forgotten, but try as he might, he couldn't place it. And yet, being gifted with dogged persistence in the face of a mystery, he would brood upon it in his idle moments until he understood just what he had seen.

"What made thou of his words," Beinvír asked Helluin when they were out of earshot.

"I deem him full willing to provoke his own death o'er a trifle," Helluin said grimly.

"Nay. I meant that which he said last …about Berúthiel's cats."

"Who is Berúthiel, pray tell?"

"I know not, Helluin. A figure of myth or lore perhaps? I wager someone in the city may tell us. I shalt certainly make it a point to ask."

Helluin nodded at this. Ever did the Green Elf collect stories and folklore from those they met in their travels. Oft aforetime such knowledge had stood them in good stead.

**To Be Continued**

7


	83. In An Age Before Chapter 83

**In An Age Before – Part 83

* * *

**

Now they came to Osgiliath in the late afternoon, finding it a busy city wherein many plied their trades. The clamor of a multitude of voices came to their ears, a din that assailed them and 'twas all the more unfamiliar after their long years in the wild. From every quarter came myriad smells; of cooking food, of rotting refuse, of livestock and draft animals, of o'er crowded Men, of their industries, tanning, tarring, dyeing, butchering, smithying, and the boiling down of bones to glue, but o'er all else, the scents of the river. From the water wafted the conglomerate stench of dead things floating, the refuse of shellfish and finned fish discarded at the docks, the plant life of years past accumulated in stagnant pools, and the garbage of a great city carelessly disposed of upon the water. The effluent of well 'nigh 350,000 living in close quarters joined that washed downstream from the whole of Rhovanion to hang like a cloud o'er the king's city, whereat it steeped in the summer heat. 'Twas only partially relieved when sea breezes blew upriver, thereby replacing the native miasma with that borne hence from the Harlond and the more distant Pelargir. Helluin and Beinvír traded looks of disgust and groaned.

O'erhead myriad gulls and plovers wheeled, bespattering all with their guano while'st searching the precincts of the river with beady eyes greedy for a meal. They stalked the wharves and quays, the alleys and lanes, ever calling harshly like a murder of crows or a flock of vultures celebrating the fatted carcass that was't the great capitol of the southern kingdom. Their constant din somehow complimented the creaking of hulls and the yelling of sailors to compose that symphony which was't the mundane theme of all seaports upon the Hither Shores. 'Twas well 'nigh as harsh upon the ears as the clamoring of the Glamhoth upon a field of battle. For the first time in many centuries, the Green Elf felt nauseous at the prospect of abiding in a city. And nowhere about did she see even one other of Elven kind. She fought back her gorge and swallowed hard past her thickened tongue.

'Twas little wonder than that Helluin led her first to the large garden 'nigh the palace wherein was't the only respite from buildings in the city. Thither the two sat 'neath a tulip tree of great girth, Helluin scanning the roofline of the nearby Dome of Stars, Beinvír fixated upon a nearby stand of yews clipped into an impenetrable hedgerow. She was't in deep denial of their greater surroundings and enmeshed in a memory of the Osgiliath of an earlier era, when the city had seemed more infused with sunlight and fresh air though the War of the Last Alliance had been but recently won.

After some time she became aware of a subtle rustling amidst the branches of the hedge and for a moment rejoiced in the thought of some small and timid creature making thither their home. A rabbit or hedgehog perhaps, wary and wild in the midst of the city; the thought charmed the Green Elf, bringing a tentative smile. All too soon though she discerned the marmalade stripes and white bib of an orange tabby crouched 'neath the branches, come to watch silently their unexpected invasion of the park. All others thither upon two legs kept to the paths and took their rest upon the stone benches that lined them. No others sat thus directly upon the ground.

Now Beinvír apprehensively watched the cat watching her with its unblinking gaze, and she recalled the warning of the Drúadan and the muttering of the soldier Glavrol, and so her thought was't troubled.

"Helluin, mark thou the cat lurking thither?" At the sound of her voice, the Noldo turned thither her attention, noting her beloved's nod towards the watching cat. She turned her gaze briefly to the tabby ere she replied to her beloved.

"Aye, 'tis a cat like many others in Osgiliath; a mouser, I wager, indulging its curiosity, a trait that stands well its kind in the hunt."

She returned her attention again to the cat and exerted some influence upon it in the way of Elves to animals, drawing first its attention and then urging it to her. With self-conscious regard the cat obliged, putting paw before paw and mincing its way 'cross the lawn to join them. Beinvír unconsciously shivered but Helluin held the cat's attention with her eyes, inviting it to sit a while and tell its tale.

Now the cat came within arm's reach and sat itself down, remaining erect and attentive while'st raising a paw to lick for the effect of nonchalance. It seemed ordinary enough, but Helluin sensed a sadness upon it which it took pains to hide, appearing composed and unconcerned by all save its own dignity. _Cats and kings,_ Helluin thought, _both art oft times pompous and proud, and given to comforts and a full stomach._

_Greetings, O intrepid hunter of mice and birds, how fare thee upon this summer's day?_ she asked silently eye to eye.

The cat deigned to reply but only after affecting a languorous yawn. If he was't at all surprised at being spoken to he gave not a hint of it.

_I am well, of course, for the bounty of the king's city is easily enough procured by one of my skills. How fare thee and thy nervous friend, pray tell? Thou art not long about the city, I wager. Hath thou found thyselves in some dire straits now that thou hath come hither from parts less…civilized?_

Helluin detected easily the cat's air of condescension and self-satisfaction, but refused to be bated. Instead she remained expressionless and told 'aught as would suffice.

_Indeed we art newly come to Osgiliath, and as thou suppose, unused to the present 'grandeur' of the city. _She barely contained her sarcasm. _'Tis little like the seaside cities of Romenna, or Lindon, or Avernien of old, nor even is it like unto Annúminas, capitol of thy people in the north kingdom._

Here the cat regarded Helluin a moment, cocking its head as if considering the unfamiliar names. Though loath to admit ignorance before such strangers, it struggled awhile and then with a sigh it finally gave in to its curiosity.

_Thou art even more foreign than I at first deemed thee. Wherefore lie those places thou hath named? They art strange and unknown to me, one and all. Lie they south in the Haradwaith, or perhaps east in Khand?_

_Nay, O whiskered One, they lie not south but rather north and west, and Romenna 'cross the sea is no more, and like Avernien is forever lost. Yet all bear upon the history of thy realm and I am surprised thou know'st them not._

At this the cat's eyes widened and it took a couple steps forward, bringing itself to lie curled next to the Green Elf. After wrapping its tail around its feet and tucking in its paws, it laid its attention full upon the Noldo.

_I mark that many tales lie about thee, but art thou not of Elvish kind? If so, then I deem thy travels a tale long and far. I hath time, and if thou hast time also, then I would harken to thy rede. Where, pray tell, lay Romenna and Avernien? Whyfore doth they bear upon the southern realm as it now stands? Many hither would hear thy histories, I wager, for like myself they cherish the past even as they look to the future. _The cat then swabbed its jowls with an abrasive tongue and regarded Helluin with anticipation.

For her part, Helluin acknowledged the absurdity of providing a history lesson to a self-important mouser. Whatever would the cat do with what it learned? 'Twas short-lived and perhaps short too of memory, and whatsoever benefits it could accrue by knowing the casualties and ruination of two Ages, she could not fathom. Rather, she was't curious about that which passed in the present place and time. Of Berúthiel's cats, who better to ask than a cat? She proceeded seriously.

_Gladly shalt I tell thee of the downfall of two Ages of the world and the place of the Dúnedain in them, woulds't thou but favor me with thy observations of current events. I too am curious, and as thou hast said, a foreigner new come to the city. What say thou? Shalt we then satisfy then each others' curiosity?_

_I say yea, and indeed we hath a deal…friend,_ the cat quickly agreed, being now hooked like a fish upon a line at the prospect of gaining some unknown information.

_Very well then, friend,_ Helluin replied with a nod and a slight grin.

Now Helluin spoke at length, tying together the tale of the struggles of the Younger Children of the One, from the destruction of their last home in the First Age to their last homes in exile in the Second with the fall of Númenor betwixt. The sun passed from afternoon to evening ere she finished, but the cat's attention never wavered, nor did it interrupt with questions. The dark Noldo appreciated its restraint and attentiveness. When she was't done the cat sat in silence for a long time, digesting what she had told and committing all to memory. Finally it gave a luxurious yawn and stretched, even digging its claws into the turf ere it settled again and took up its promised narrative. Now 'twas Helluin and Beinvír who sat silent and harkened.

_Now my tale stretches back no long term as thou would see it,_ the cat said without the slightest hint of apology, _yet oft times history repeats and so, I deem, 'tis true of the present case. Thy tale of Romenna included the story of Erendis and Aldarion the King. Herein I see some parallels to the current status of the realm. _

_Now Gondor hast been ruled this past 40 years by King Tarannon, a great captain of ships. He hast given his attention mostly to the securing of the coasts from the threat of Umbar, and indeed he hath enjoyed some successes such that he hast taken the name _Falastur,_ Lord of the Coasts._ Here the cat digressed a pace, thanking Helluin for clarifying the source of his peoples' deep-rooted contention with the southern "Black Númenóreans" of Umbar, that remnant of the King's Men from the time of Ar-Pharazôn who had retained their allegiance to Sauron and been worsted in the War of the Last Alliance.

_Our king is oft upon the water and aboard ship in distant lands. At those times when he sails home, a house he hast commanded built for him upon pillars o'er the River 'nigh Pelargir. Thither he repairs as if still aboard ship, for his windows look out o'er moving water, 'tis said. Thither, however, his queen refuses to go, for the sea she cannot abide. Thus she is in spirit akin to Erendis who hated too the sea and was't estranged from her husband by his love for it._ The cat looked from Helluin to Beinvír and back again, obviously expecting some recognition and congratulations for his analytical acumen at history. Neither Helluin nor Beinvír did 'aught but stare at him expectantly. Helluin resisted pointing out that Tar-Aldarion's birth name had been Anardil, and he the son of Tar-Meneldur and her own daughter, Almarian. At their lack of reaction, he sighed.

_Queen Berúthiel cares not for the sea, nor for ships. Indeed she loathes both equally and always hast. She grudgingly endures her husband's seeming obsession, but 'tis yet another grievance added to many she perceives. Alas, the folk of Osgiliath, noble and commoner alike, art given to rumor mongering wherever she is concerned. They deem her a witch, for she is herb-crafty and tells the future by omens and other divinations, and yet other rumors too circulate about her. _He paused to give the two ellith a last chance to demonstrate some knowledge of politics in the southern kingdom. When 'twas obvious that 'naught was't forthcoming, he continued.

_After 30 years of marriage, Queen Berúthiel hast born her Lord Tarannon no heir. Indeed she hast borne him no children whatsoever. __She wears no colors, being ever arrayed in silver and black_. _'Tis said she hast a private garden planted with 'naught but yew and cypress and the carven figures of suffering Men. Some figures too there art representing other kindreds, monsters, and this the folk of the city find unseemly._ Again he paused and still no reaction from the two ellith did he receive. Their seeming lack of awe vexed him. He had, however, another tidbit to share…one sure to elicit amazement, or so it ever had in the past. After a deep breath and a dramatic pause he revealed, _There is still more to her habit that unsettles the counsels of the citizenry. 'Tis rumored that she doth speak at whiles with her cats._ There, he'd declared it.

Helluin and Beinvír turned from him to look each other in the eyes.

_That's it?_ The Green Elf asked, obviously underwhelmed. _That was't the whole of his great revelation?_

'_Tis only a matter of suspicion for happening in a city of Men, I wager,_ Helluin answered_. None amongst the Eldar would deem such a matter of remark. I hath spoken aforetime to cats, and some decidedly more sagacious than this one._

_I hath spoken as whiles to snails, millipedes, and many a bird, _Beinvír recalled,_ and thou hast at times held converse with trees_. _Perhaps the queen is Peredhel?_

_Perhaps,_ Helluin allowed, _I can do 'aught but ask, I suppose._ To this course, Beinvír agreed with a nod.

_Say thou that perhaps Queen Berúthiel hast some Elvish blood? None amongst us would think it strange for an Elf to converse with a cat,_ Helluin told him

For his part the cat looked at Helluin as if she were mad, never once marking the fact that two Elves had indeed traded tales with him for the past several hours.

_For my part I know of no stories, rumors, or suits laying out her claim to Elvish blood,_ he said, humoring her Elves in Osgiliath were as rare as oliphants. Indeed the two before him now were the only ones he had ever seen.

_Well be that as it may, I should wager thou art highly favored in a city wherein thy queen doth favor converse with cats,_ Beinvír said, speaking to the cat for the first time.

'Twas a supposition reasonable enough, but brought a wince and a downcast look from the feline. With a sigh and a shaking of his head, he bemoaned the ill-fate of his coat.

_T'would indeed be the case, I deem, were this a better world. Alas, I am neither wholly black nor white, and therefore unsuited for the queen's favor. Indeed while'st the queen doth speak at whiles with her cats, such grace extends not to those beyond her household. Yet oft do Men suspect such favor graces any cat they see and they art jealous of all equally. No honor doth a cat find from Men in Osgiliath; nay, not in the whole of the realm of Gondor. Yet doth we not do our part in service to our king, dispatching the varmintry of the city that harbor pestilence? Truly! Lady Berúthiel doth show her favor to a dozen cats only, eleven black and their white prince, and she cares 'naught for the injustice visited upon the rest; emptied chamber pots, flung sticks, cast stones, swift kicks, and barbarous invectives. The queen favors but two colors in all things, sable and silver. To a cat, 'tis black or white, else ignominy and dishonor._ He fell silent, shaking his head.

To this the Elves cast each other confused looks. Silver and black were the colors of the heraldry of Gondor…black banner, white tree and stars. The queen had cause for her preferences as did any monarch, but such exclusivity seemed o'erly whimsical to them. Helluin couldn't help but recall how long ago she'd distracted Tar-Ancalime from the grave business of her manicure, with 'aught to tell but the rise of Sauron and the building of his tower. _At the very least_, she thought, _this Berúthiel shalt likely bear me no resemblance_.

_I should be curious to meet thy queen, _Helluin remarked offhandedly.

The cat groaned and then squinted off into the distance.

_Thy wish may be granted sooner than thou think, _he said, ere he leapt up and fled into the bushes.

Helluin and Beinvír looked after him in surprise, noting that he had disappeared entirely from sight, then turned to survey the park. Approaching them down a nearby path were a squad of six soldiers led by a leashed dog. The Men were making straight for them.

**To Be Continued**


	84. In An Age Before Chapter 84

**In An Age Before – Part 84

* * *

**

**Chapter Fifty-three**

_**Queen Berúthiel of Osgiliath – The Third Age of the Sun**_

When the soldiers had come 'nigh they stood restraining their dog from its sniffing while'st taking the measure of the two Elves. None could even recall when last any of the Elder kindred had been seen in Osgiliath. After some moments a sergeant stood forth and bowed, and then addressed them courteously.

"M'ladies, thy presence hast been reported to Queen Berúthiel who governs Osgiliath in the absence of our lord, King Tarannon Falastur. 'Tis her desire to greet thee, for visits by the Eldar art rare indeed and she desires speech with thee regarding the wider world. We art bidden to convey the Lady's invitation and to accompany thee to the palace."

"Noble Sergeant, we would be honored indeed to hath an audience with thy queen," Helluin said while'st rising to her feet and bowing ere she collected her travel bag.

Beside her, Beinvír stood and shouldered her own bag and bow. She cast a furtive glance to the hedge, but no sign of the cat did she mark. Thence she looked to the dog, which stilled 'neath her gaze, whined softly, and offered a paw. The animal regarded the Green Elf attentively, raising first one brow and then the other, and adorning its face with a doggy grin and lolling tongue. Helluin chuckled, knowing that ere long the dog would sooner follow her friend than its masters.

In short order the group left the park, the soldiers marching three to each side of the two Elves, the dog pressed tight against Beinvír's thigh and staring up into her face. It well 'nigh wriggled out of its skin with delight when she petted it.

Now they made their way down a long avenue with many taverns and inns wherefrom the scent of food hung like a delectable sea fog in the air, and thence 'round a corner, and so came to a long, rectangular forum hedged by public edifices upon three sides and the Dome of Stars upon the fourth. Indeed in rounding that corner, they had made their way onto one of the great bridges spanning Anduin in Osgiliath's heart, yet so great and broad was't that bridge that indeed it stood wider than many a grand avenue in a lesser city.

Like any grand avenue it bustled with many Men going about their business, and these were not tradesmen, but rather the appointees and bureaucrats of the king's offices. Even though evening had fallen, some paced hurriedly from building to building upon their business. Others traveled with an entourage, and indeed more than one dictated to a scribe as he paced amidst his cronies. Some paid open attention to the little procession while'st others cast surreptitious glances at what appeared to be a company of the guard bringing apprehended vagrants for the court's judgment.

In the entrance hall the Elves surrendered their weapons, Anguirél and the Sarchram voicing their warnings and dire threats as always, the door wards shuddering to receive them. The soldiers turned their disarmed charges o'er to a chamberlain who led Helluin and Beinvír hence to the audience chamber.

Now this was't that same chamber wherein long aforetime the Lords Isildur and Anárion had set their thrones side by side in the first building of the city. Thither in later times the custom was that the king ruled from that throne once held by Isildur, the elder son of Elendil, while'st his queen sat in the throne of Anárion to his right. Thither too were other chairs for the King's Heir, his steward and chief advisors, and for the officers of the court, gathered about the thrones at the foot of the dais. Thus upon this day, Queen Berúthiel sat in the left throne, while'st in the stewards seat sat the king's younger brother, Prince Tarciryan. Helluin and Beinvír marked that as the cat had reported, the queen wore 'naught but sable and silver, a rather long and flowing dress with loose sleeves gathered at the cuffs, cinched at the waist with a silver belt of many linked discs, and topped with a stiffened, stand-up silver collar.

Now the Elves came before the throne of Gondor and bowed low to the queen, and she returned a nod of acknowledgment as she rose to welcome them, a grin widening upon her face. To Helluin's surprise the queen resembled her quite closely, save that she was't younger, mortal, and her eyes were golden-brown. Alike they shared a straight nose, sculpted cheekbones, strong chin and pale skin. The likeness was't not identical as it had been in Tar-Telperien or Lady Inzilbêth, but in stature and build, hair color and poise, the two were more like unto each other than not. Indeed their familial similarity was't unmistakable. Beinvír's eyes widened in shock at the unexpected resemblance. From amongst the gathered counselors came an undercurrent of muttering and whispers.

"Welcome again to the Southern Realm, friends of old," Queen Berúthiel said, ere she cast her gaze full upon Helluin. The Noldo marked a constant tic of the queen's right eyelid and a strange intensity to her stare…_almost feral_, she thought. The queen continued with, "I would welcome thee too as kin, save that such blood as we might share hast been much tempered o'er the years 'twixt thee and me. Yet never truer hast been proven the claims of old that from some scion of the ruling houses of Númenor did a forefather or foremother of my family come. Alas, unnamed and lost art they to me. Nevertheless, I greet thee with honor, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwe, and thy longtime companion, Beinvír Laiquende. Gondor is happy to host thee once more."

"Greatly we doth thank thee for thy gracious welcome, O Queen," Helluin said, "and indeed I mark the kinship of our blood in thy features. Long hast it been since the days of Tar-Meneldur in Atalantë which is no more, whence last some measure of my blood came to the house of the kings. Still 'tis to be seen in thee, and so I greet thee, O distant daughter."

In reaction the queen favored them at first with a broad grin as of self-congratulation which she quickly quashed as if its display were a mistake. She then clasped her hands and cracked her knuckles.

About them the members of the court stood silent, entranced by the turn of events. Most amazed was't Prince Tarciryan. Indeed amongst the noble families of Gondor there had aforetime been some dissension regarding Berúthiel's lineage, yet now all such doubts could be laid to rest. 'Twas not such welcome news to some as might hath been supposed. Many had come to doubt her, for many reasons aside from her bloodline.

Now the queen bade Helluin and Beinvír seat themselves in chairs that were brought for them and she offered them refreshment. And when they were served, red wine in goblets and honey-sweetened cakes from a platter, all of silver, she asked after the lands beyond Gondor and harkened to all that the Elves would tell.

Long they spoke of many realms and of their leaders and peoples, of the north kingdom most, yet too of Mithlond and of Imladris, of Khazad-dûm and Lórinand, and of the realm of Thranduil in Greenwood, such of it as they knew. Unfortunately much of their tidings were long out of date for they had remained in Eriador since the turning of the Age. Yet still much information and much history did they tell, and all harkened to them, queen and steward and counselor alike.

When they had gone on for o'er an hour the queen signaled her chamberlain to prepare for the evening meal and she announced that she desired the company of the two Elves at her board, for there was't much else hinted at which she would learn from them in private. Thence the small group retired to the royal dining room, Queen Berúthiel, Prince Tarciryan, Helluin, and Beinvír.

They found the dining room hung in black velvet, with medallions and ornamentation in silver leaf. At the table's head an empty chair of heavily carved dark wood was't reserved, as custom dictated, for the king in his absence, while'st the queen took the chair to its right and the prince to its left.

Now the queen's board was't set and servants brought forth a host of silver platters laden with breads and vegetables, a smoked ham, a roasted duck, a chicken glazed with honey and sliced oranges, songbirds roasted upon skewers and stuffed with berries, a steaming goat custard, and a roast of beef with a rich wine gravy. But though Osgiliath stood upon the water, no hint of seafood graced that table for the queen forbade it. Clear water and chilled wines both red and white, bubbly cider, and a light ale were provided in decanters and pitchers. All wafted forth delicious scents that set Beinvír's stomach rumbling with want, yet ere any touched the food, Queen Berúthiel offered a prayer of thanksgiving to Eru for their bounty. This she spoke in Sindarin, but in the words Helluin recognized the echo of the prayer once offered in Quenya by the Kings of Númenórë at the Hallow upon the Meneltarma on the Eruhantalë. Throughout it, and for a moment of silence afterwards, she and the prince sat with heads bowed and eyes closed.

Now when the blessing had been said and the after-silence observed, Queen Berúthiel at once took up her silver flagon and poured wine for each of them, and she offered a toast to her guests, both welcoming them to her table and thanking them for their centuries of friendship to her people. Then, as the diners filled their plates, she offered Helluin an apology of sorts.

"My honored guest, 'tis but right that I should confess that thou hast been subtly used aforetime, though not with malice or intent of dishonor," she said. "For amongst this court art many who hath long chaffed at my marriage to our king, and amongst their complaints was't doubt o'er my lineage. Thou see, I come not from some noble family of Osgiliath nor from an estate 'nigh Minas Anor or Minas Ithil, but rather from a family of the south.

My father is lord of a small fief 'nigh the River Harnen, inland from the coast in Harondor. In days of old that land was't subject to Umbar, and indeed some of my ancestors marched with that host in the last war. Long aforetime they came of those peoples whom thou know as the Black Númenóreans, who were the King's Men in the days of Númenor and remained loyal to Ar-Pharazôn. Yet after the War of the Last Alliance, my family held still their lands 'neath the Kings of Gondor.

Still, many deem me suspect; either not truly of noble lineage or else an enemy outright. By summoning thee hither and demonstrating our kinship from afar, I hath legitimized myself as a descendant of the House of Elros, and though far removed, such claim is still greater than such as they themselves may claim.

If I hath done thee a wrong in this then I apologize, yet to still such discontent shalt aid the solidarity of our people. I should do so again were the chance to arise. Yet more, I should seek thy company for such as I might learn of thee, even were thou not kin to me."

Helluin sighed. The politics of kingdoms and the preoccupation of nobles with their lineages she had oft found tiresome. Palace intrigues left her cold. In the Elder days she had long shunned the cities of her own people in Valinor. She was't but a commoner in their eyes and she had married a commoner of the Moriquendi. If her acknowledgement of Berúthiel's kinship abetted the stability of Gondor then she objected 'naught to it.

"For my part I hath no discontent, O Queen," Helluin replied. "The concerns of these others art of little concern to me save that they threaten the realm of my distant kin. I fault thee not. Long ago did I resolve to offer such aid as I could to the House of Huor. His son did I aid in Gondolin, and so 'cross many long years and half a hundred generations I hath continued."

The queen offered her a smile and seemed thereafter more relaxed. Unfortunately her respite was't short-lived. Soon a white cat bearing a limp rat in its jaws entered the dining room and came to sit 'neath the queen's chair where it proffered the carcass with a nudge so that it came to rest on the queen's slippered foot. Berúthiel suppressed a reflexive shudder. 'Twas followed a bit later by a black cat, also bearing a dead rat. and then another. Helluin and Beinvír marked their appearances but remarked not. Soon a growing pile of carcasses lay at the Berúthiel's feet. The queen had taken to drumming her fingertips upon the tabletop when not involved with her knife and fork. The tic had returned to her eyelid.

As the meal progressed and they spoke of many things, cat after cat joined the company until a host of eleven black cats had joined the white cat attending the queen. In response the queen sniffled and stifled a sneeze. Her eyes appeared to hath grown more watery. Amongst her adoring felines, neither a stripe nor a patch, nor a contrasting paw or tail's tip did any of them bear. The two Elves were reminded of the orange tabby's remarks on Berúthiel's color preferences. It seemed he had spoken 'naught but the truth.

"Queen Berúthiel, might I ask thee 'aught of thy habits, for in them I discern some factors as unsettle the peoples of thy realm," Beinvír requested. She eyed the cats a moment and then returned her gaze to the queen.

Berúthiel nodded her permission, greatly curious as to what a Green Elf might ask. 'Neath her chair and about her feet the cats lounged or rubbed against her legs, building static charges so that their shed hairs clove to her hem. Though the queen studiously avoided eye contact with them, she could feel their unwavering attention upon her and inwardly cringed. The tic of her eyelid became more pronounced.

Now Beinvír began diplomatically, trying to delve without offending the psyche of the queen, for to understand the animosity of the citizenry regarding this woman who so far had seemed only concerned for their welfare. For her part, Helluin bent her gaze upon the white cat and silently called it to her.

"O Queen, 'tis such talk as we hath heard of thee showing favor to thy cats and holding converse with them indeed true? It seems thereby thou doth feed the rumor mills of thy folk." At this the queen blanched and for a moment cast her gaze upon the felines about her feet. They had harkened to the Green Elf, eyeing her from 'neath the table, and sparing for a moment the queen from their attentions. Beinvír continued on in a sympathetic vein. "Were it so, I should understand it well and fault it not. I hath at times past spoken with many animals and Helluin hath spoken at whiles with trees and shrubs, and so we find no oddity in it, yet we art Elven folk for whom such is reckoned but a fancy rather than a peculiarity for remark. T'would seem thy people art troubled by it."

Berúthiel sighed ere she answered, seemingly tired of answering again a question oft asked aforetime. 'Neath the table the white cat made its way to Helluin's feet.

"I shalt tell thee that I bear no special love for cats," the queen said. "Indeed I am allergic to them and suffer close contact with them only by use of herbs. I find they shed much upon my clothing and therefore do I favor black cats, for their hair shows the less upon my robes. Yet they cleave to me and favor my company, t'would seem, and this preference they hath demonstrated since my first coming hither. I understand it not. Yet unlike many I neither persecute nor curse them, for as all in my homelands know, cats art the enemies of vermin such as afflict all dwellings of Men and their ships as well. Therefore I see them fed and offered milk, and speak sternly to any such as I find abusing them." 'Twas seemingly that so much talk of cats caused the queen to sneeze twice.

"So thou art mostly concerned with their welfare for the benefit of thy city, O Queen?" Helluin asked. The white cat had in fact leapt into her lap and the Noldo fondled its ears and jowls, eliciting a loud purring of delight.

Berúthiel nodded her agreement to Helluin. The white cat nuzzled the Noldo's hand and gazed into her eyes. Thence Helluin commenced a rather bizarre chat with it.

_My greetings, O noble mouser. Howsoever hath thou found favor of Berúthiel in spite of thy coat? She hast claimed to favor black._

_I greet thee, O lady of pointed ears and flashing eyes, _the cat said._ Berúthiel is color blind and sees me as silver. ' Aught else to her seems black or grey. _

_Thou say the queen perceives not colors? _

_Just so. Hath thou not marked her attire or her baubles? She hast ever been so. Now hath thou a fish or some tidbit, or perhaps by thy grace a saucer of milk?_

_Nay, I too am here to sup at the queen's board. Art thou not also favored thus?_

_I am indeed, though not as a beggar. Art thou a beggar? I saw not any rat offered by thee at the queen's feet. _

_Nay, I am a guest, trading tidings rather than rats for my supper. _

_Ahhh, then we art the same indeed. Many tales doth I tell, for I hear many things. _Here the white cat stretched up and whispered to Helluin, as if conveying some privy matter in confidence. _And ever must I keep straight the fancies of the others, sifting their useless gossip and rumors. They art oft indiscriminate…given to filling thence the queen's ears with whimsy. Indeed I am an editor._

_And what, pray tell doth thou edit? _Helluin asked with equal circumspection, curious about the group dynamics of the royal cats.

_Why, I am wholly concerned with the plots and intrigues of state, of course, _the cat told her, seeming to puff itself up with importance. Helluin raised a brow at this claim. The cat continued with, _just yester eve I o'erheard a petty noble scheming to employ a dog to rid his estate of cats! A dog! A slobbering, tail-chasing, clumsy, cur, ever barking and given to leaving its droppings in plain view as if they were a source of pride! Imagine! Such dark tidings as this the queen must know at once for the preservation of the realm._

Helluin could 'naught but roll her eyes.

_Why? Surely a noble's choice of company is 'neath her concern,_ she said

_Nay. Such intentions undermine the welfare of the people. Imagine thou, if each household kept thus a dog, not in the fields tending sheep, nor even for the hunt, but in the city…in their homes! Horrors! Ere Anor's rising upon the third day all would hath to watch their step lest they tread upon the stools carelessly laid upon the flags and paving. Think thou that a noble would stoop to retrieve them? Nay! The prospect fairly turns my stomach. And worse, if thou know 'aught of dogs then thou hast marked their preoccupation with turf? Every corner and bush they baptize with their urine. Yuck. They then bark and growl at any who impinge upon their perceived territory. No sooner than the city is cursed with dogs shalt the healers be called upon to assuage the bites therefrom. Know thou too that sometimes dogs carry a mouth-foaming madness? Such as art bitten fall prey to that sickness as well, most oft to their doom._

_I see, _Helluin said. She favored not the idea of many dogs running rampant in the city.

The cat regarded her a moment, seemingly measuring her sincerity.

_And I see we art indeed of one mind upon this topic, friend, _the cat said. It then lay down and curled itself in Helluin's lap, giving its attention to the licking of its paws. Helluin returned her attention to the conversation at the table.

"And 'tis true as is said of thee that thou maintains a garden devoid of flowers, yet populated with the tortured figures of monsters and Men?" Beinvír was't asking.

Berúthiel nodded, saying that, "'Tis the custom in Gondor for the queen to order the planting of the royal gardens, yet of plants given to flowering, most produce powder from their blooms that afflicts me horrible. Indeed I am allergic to well 'nigh all. Therefore I hath planted such as I can withstand and created many likenesses of creatures and heroes from the legends of my homeland. Such tales art strange and upsetting to northern folk, I hath learnt." Here the queen sighed in resignation. "South we hath long had knowledge of those beings as populate the southern continent. I am sure none from Gondor ever set foot thither. Perhaps as well, none from Númenor did either."

"I should like to see thy garden of sculptures someday, O Queen," Helluin said, for after hearing the origins of the figures, she wondered if some were not like unto those denizens and primitive Men she had seen long aforetime in the company of Veantur. Many lands had they visited upon their voyages of exploration, and many odd characters had they encountered upon thither shores.

The queen nodded her permission. Few expressed 'aught but distaste and she had come to realize that creating the garden thus might hath been a mistake. Still, she could not abide flowers, and she had been required by custom to do something.

"We shalt walk thither after the evening meal, Helluin," Berúthiel said, "and thou can'st see then the gardens with thy own eyes. Well traveled as thou art, perhaps even some figures might seem familiar to thee."

The queen then turned to beckon a chamberlain, and indicating the heap of dead rats at her feet, directed him to remove them and take them hence. Using a pair of long silver tongs the man gathered up the rats upon a silver platter and took his leave as if 'twas nothing out of the ordinary. The queen returned her attention to the dark Noldo, asking, "Helluin, what opinion if any hath thou regarding a petition now published in court requesting that dogs be freely kept as pets in the city?"

Helluin cocked an eyebrow at the queen. The white cat in her lap stretched and attempted to lay a paw full of claws into her thigh.

"A horrible idea, O Queen," Helluin said straight-faced, "for t'will no doubt lead to the ills of flagrant droppings, canine delinquency, and a rash of biting."

The queen stopped her fork halfway to her mouth and wrinkled her brow a moment in thought. 'Twas almost as if the elleth's opinion had been heard by her aforetime, yet she remembered not receiving such counsel. Finally she nodded seriously in agreement.

"Tarciryan, make a note that the petition is refused save in those cases wherein the dog is leashed, muzzled, and followed by a watchful stool-gatherer," she said to the prince.

In Helluin's lap the white cat commenced to purring again.

Now following the meal, the company retired to the queen's garden, and it proved every bit as strange as the Elves had heard. Thither grew 'naught but some twisted trees. These were yew and cypress, and a strange few others of species unrecorded, which seemed to hath been chosen for the torment evinced in their trunks and limbs. From windswept and weather blasted promontories or heights they had certainly been gathered, and thence replanted hither where through the following decades they had been trained and pruned in their growth to maximize the effects. Not a straight arm's length of wood was't there in the whole of the garden

Being used to the natural growth of trees in the forests, Beinvír found the whole effect disturbing. Her heart beat in sympathy for the enduring determination of these olvar to cling to life and growth despite their unfavorable lot. No doubt Oldbark would hath been horrified. Yet she perceived also that the plantings were tended regularly and with great care. 'Twas a strange mixture of feelings the queen's garden evoked within her and she regarded it long in silence.

Helluin took in the twisted growth of the yews and cypress and marked that though their forms were wrought of difficult circumstance, still all had acquired a balance, a pleasing aesthetic arrangement of their limbs that told of patiently considered and knowledgeable horticulture. These shapes were no accident; they were wholly intentional. Soon she marked the heavy wires bound upon some of the branches, supporting and constraining thus their growth to intended forms. Just as the vintner pruned a vine or the arborer a fruit tree, so too had these plants been shaped for a desired visual effect. And not a one was't of a kind that came ever to flower. Helluin nodded in understanding. The queen had recreated the forms of dramatic but natural trees from her homelands while'st appeasing her allergies to pollens. She turned then her attention to the carven figures.

Thither first did Helluin spy a Wildman of the southern continent, rendered in stylized manner yet recognizable still. In one hand he clutched a crude club, the thigh bone of a large beast. An animal skin was't wound about his loins. She had seen many who could hath been his near kin upon her journeys by ship long ago.

With her perfect recall Helluin saw the primitive encampment wherefrom the natives had fled the sailors who had come thither in their great ships of Númenor. They had been tall, yet bone thin, of darkest ebony skin, eyes reddened by prolonged infection, and yet with white teeth that contrasted alarmingly against the coal black of their faces. They had known neither hygiene nor fire nor metals, had spoken with the guttural tones of beasts, and upon them the ancient Shadow lay heavy. Never had they known 'aught of the West or the Valar, save Morgoth only, whose servants had come amongst them in the earliest of days. She and the Men of Westernesse had pitied them.

Other figures Helluin examined; Men of southern lands or from the furthest east. Hither were short-statured Men with skin of bronze and eyes that appeared to slant. They had practiced divination and animal sacrifice. Others there were of even shorter stature, but these were pot bellied, dark skinned, thin limbed, and they recalled to her the forest dwellers of the Dark Continent whom the sailors had called _i-figinúr_**¹**. A cluster of them depicted a hunting party armed with simple slender bows.

**¹(i-figinúr, _The Tiny Ones,_ _in_**(pl def art, _the_) + **_p(f-_** nasal lentition**_)igen_**(tiny) + **_e-i_**(pl int vowel shift) + **_-úr_**(intensive agent,_ tiny ones_) Sindarin **Note**: It may be that the much later name, _Pygmies_, derives from the Sindarin root, _Piginúr _Tiny Ones)

"I find many of thy figures familiar," Helluin told the startled queen, "and though long aforetime did I encounter these kindreds, still they art known to me. Hither art preserved, by virtue of thy southern lore, a bestiary of primitive Men of such kinds as once roamed continents far to the south and east. Know'th thou how such came to be remembered amongst thy people?"

"I know only that 'tis said that in the days of Anadûnê, some sea captains of old told tales of far off lands they had never seen with their own eyes…neither they nor any they knew. Yet the tales they repeated until they became legend, and finally myth. And ever did they swear that upon a time such places had been visited by their forefathers of Númenor, captains of the kings. Even had they sailed so far as to find the sea whereo'er Arien lofted Anor heavenwards at each dawn, bringing such heats as would roast a Man to his death. 'Twas said that in the Guildhouse of the Venturers of Romenna, and in the king's scriptorium in Armenelos, there once existed scrolls bearing these accounts. Being as none knew 'aught to prove or disprove them, they hath persisted in the lore of my people for generations uncounted."

"I see," Helluin mused. The accounts Berúthiel cited were no doubt those penned by the Captain-Admiral Veantur well 'nigh 3,500 years before, recording discoveries made upon journeys Helluin herself had partaken of as his wife, back in the 7th century of the Second Age of the Sun. "Believe the lore of thy people, O Queen," she said, "for there is at its root, truth. Such lands were indeed visited upon a time by the ships of Númenor."

To this confirmation the queen nodded somberly, and with her guests surveyed once again the garden with its twisted trees and sculptures, and then the company retired to the palace for the night and bid each other a peaceful rest.

**To be Continued**


	85. In An Age Before Chapter 85

**In An Age Before – Part 85

* * *

**

'Twas much later, as Ithil waned and the stars wheeled o'erhead, that Helluin and Beinvír lay at rest in their chambers. Beinvír lay giggling softly while'st indulging in the fancy of imaginatively untwisting and straightening the trees that she had seen in the garden. She fancied rousing them from their vegetative stupors and hearing their slow and lengthy complaints about limbs that had fallen asleep. Beside her lay Helluin, reliving her voyages of exploration with Veantur long ago. The Noldo was't deeply enmeshed in her memories, oblivious to 'aught else, and so 'twas the Green Elf who first marked the presence of one of the black cats entering their chamber. Straightaway it padded to their bed and proffered a limp rat.

Now Beinvír shook off her revels and regarded it eye to eye in silent converse, first thanking it for its offering, but assuring the felid that neither she nor Helluin had any use for a dead rat, _For we art travelers, ever afoot, and hath not the means to carry such treasures, nor as the queen's guests hath we the need to sup upon them._

_Hon, 'tis just a dead rat, _the cat told her lightly as it seated itself, explaining further that,_ 'tis more the weight of tradition rather than its intrinsic value which dictates that I approach thee offering such. Indeed not even a common cat would sup upon a rat, save only at the greatest need of hunger. I merely bear it hence in obeisance to protocol and the etiquette of the court._

_Ahhh, I see, _Beinvír said, taking the rat and setting it upon a side table, _thou art a fair and gentle creature at heart and a noble in thy own right._

To this the cat offered a graceful dip of its head and right shoulder, accented with a drawing of its forepaw in the manner of a courtly bow.

_Indeed so, _it asserted,_ as art we all…the black cats that is, or for the most part at least, though there art a few knaves amongst us, _it confessed

Beinvír caught herself rolling her eyes and restraining herself asked, _So whyfore hath thou come hither at such an hour? What business hath thee?_

_Why, _said the cat, _I hath come hither upon a matter of the greatest urgency, whose telling bears heavily upon all in this realm. Indeed 'tis a great fortune that thou and thy companion hath come hither, for we trust none in all this land to hear what we hath uncovered. _The cat gazed intensely at the Green Elf, who returned its stare with curiosity. Beinvír was't skeptical, but thought it best to harken the animal's rede, for certainly it at least was't wholly convinced of the gravity of its tidings.

_Allow me to roust then my companion,_ Beinvír said, _for surely 'aught of such importance should be heard also from thy mouth by Helluin._

To this the cat nodded enthusiastically and Beinvír reached out and gently shook her lover's shoulder, calling softly, "Helluin, arise and pay heed. We hath a visitor bearing fell tidings of great import."

Helluin grumbled and roused herself from her memories, raising and shifting her head to survey the room. She fixed upon the black cat and then turned to her partner and raised an eyebrow in question. The Green Elf nodded in confirmation and Helluin shifted her attention back to the cat.

"Say on, O Pelted One," she said softly. "What grave tidings doth thou bear?"

Now the cat licked a paw in preparation, and pausing a heartbeat, posed much as would a scholar preparing to turn a page. 'Twas obviously well pleased to hath their undivided attention. An important mission it was't that she had undertaken and 'twas going well despite the doubts of the black company and the o'erbearing demeanor of the white cat.

_Whether or not thou believe me, I speak only truth, and though surely disputed by some 'paler parties',_ the cat said, indulging in more than a hint of sarcasm,(and pausing to sneer at this reference to the white cat),_ I must convey my findings. The Queen is mad…indeed she hast ever been so, in my humble opinion, while'st the white cat is long and secretly in league with the Great Enemy._ She then sat still with her tail curled about her feet, attentive and awaiting their reaction.

The two ellith looked at each other in surprise. T'were very grave, the cat's claims.

_Indeed I hath held some such suspicions ere ever we came to the city, _Helluin confessed to the cat,_ and I would hear thy proofs. Some references hath we heard hither in the lands of Gondor. What know'th thou of these things?_

The cat looked slyly at the Elda and asked, _Dids't thou see 'aught of seafood upon the queen's table?_ When the Elves shook their heads 'no', the cat continued with, _Indeed never is the bounty of the waves and streams presented at the Lady's board. Imagine! All the wealth of the waters so near to hand she doth scorn. Beautiful fish, scallops, clams, crawfish, mussels, crabs, shrimps, and…and lobsters in lemon butters! _She declared the last with an almost orgasmic moan.

_Perhaps like the flowers and thy fur, Queen Berúthiel is allergic to seafood?_ Beinvír asked.

_Bah!_ _She is allergic to none. Ever hast that claim been her excuse. Nay, friends, she is quite mad, _the cat declared with certainty.

_I believe thee wholly,_ Helluin said straight-faced, _for I hath oft marked the tic of her right eyelid._

Here the cat nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Beinvír looked skeptically at her partner, but held her peace. The cat continued.

_She is deemed a witch by many hither in the southern realm, _the cat told them, _though 'tis more truly the conviction of her madness that confers upon her the simulacra of a mantle of supernatural power. Thou saw the garden and thou marked her attire? Such hast seeded rumors amongst the people, and being oft absent their lord, they feel consigned to the rule of a disturbing stranger they understand not. Hence their prejudice against her southern origins hath whelped claims of witchcraft and the practice of dark sorcery. 'Tis prejudice abetted by the lady's…whimsies. _

_We had heard aforetime that her witchcraft stands proven by her converse with her cats, _Beinvír stated, though not without sympathy in her tone. 'Twas a point the cat refuted with yet another revelation.

_Indeed she speaks at whiles with the white cat, but only doth he speak to her by virtue of the spells cast upon him by the Enemy. He whispers in her sleeping ear and she finds herself thus privy to Men's secrets. In acting upon her acquired knowledge, Men see the results of divination and spying…and in her tolerance of us, these poor superstitious folk deem they hath discovered her spies._

_Yet thou claim that she speaks to him,_ Beinvír noted

_Indeed she does; in the idle way of all Men to cats. Say more truly that she speaks AT him, expecting neither understanding nor an answer. He plays well the part, never acknowledging her 'here kitty, kitty' any more than would any other cat._

_So he is indeed in league with Sauron?_ The Green Elf asked.

_Just so. You see, my friends, the white is unnatural. Indeed he is no cat at all, but rather a daemonikin, a small spirit of discord in feline form, loosed upon the kingdom for the achievement of his master's errantry; to promote instability in the monarchy. He acts to undermine the faith of the people in diabolical yet subtle fashion. This he can'st afford, for time is no object to him._ When the two ellith only stared at her in disbelief, she told them, _by the oath of my mother and others of our foremothers o'er many generations, we know that the white cat hast ever been in the queen's company, even ere she came hence to Gondor, and that alone now o'er thirty years past. By some dark enchantment Lady Berúthiel marks not his unending life. Indeed she is bewitched as well as mad._

Helluin knitted her brows in response to the cat's latest claim. At table the white cat had seemed very much a cat and no more. She wondered howsoever to prove or disprove the black cat's charges.

_I must take my leave of thee now, friends. Indeed I hath already tarried longer than wisdom would dictate. Ever the white spies upon the rest of our company. 'Tis not safe for me to oft speak alone with thee, however 'tis enough to hath delivered my tidings. Therefore I bid thee farewell for this time._

With that the black cat took three silent strides and leapt thence to the window ledge. Thither it gathered itself ere proceeding hence upon the exterior molding, and a moment later 'twas swallowed up by the dark of night beyond. Helluin and Beinvír were left alone to brood o'er the possibilities they had heard and the evidence they had seen. They took no more rest that night, but rather lay abed, facing each other in the dark and commenting to each other in silence eye to eye. Not even did they react to the near silent padding of feet as the white cat looked in on them an hour later. With a knowing blink it marked the rat upon the side table ere taking its leave to stalk the palace shadows. The Elves agreed that there was't one other at court with whom they had to speak.

Now following the morning's meal and the early session at court, Helluin and Beinvír managed to engage the Prince Tarciryan in conversation. They found him a serious Man of noble mien, with surprisingly little ambition and a great regard for his elder brother, King Tarannon. He was't content to serve his liege as Steward and attend upon the queen in his absence, even allowing his son to accompany his lord upon many voyages by ship.

"So my Lord, thy son Eärnil is abroad with the king?" Helluin asked.

"Indeed so and oft, for 'tis to him that the crown of Gondor shalt fall should Lady Berúthiel fail to bear an heir. That possibility looks ever the more likely as the years pass. Alas for my brother and the line of Anárion." The prince sighed.

"The king grooms Eärnil thus, as a captain of Men and ships?"

"Yea, he sees little possibility in these latter days for an heir of his body, and so he stays ever longer upon the sea. 'Tis now 2 years since last he sat upon the throne in Osgiliath. Much doth the people grumble as a result. They trust not Berúthiel, the less the longer she rules in King Tarannon's stead."

"Whyfore doth the king remain so long away?" Beinvír asked. "We hath heard that with the defeat of the Easterlings by thy great-grandsire, thy realm hast known peace."

"My brother is a Man of action more than negotiation, and he is a great king," Tarciryan began, though the two ellith could hear the reservation in his voice, "and ever he seeks to increase the security of Gondor. Yet in doing so, he hast fancied himself with no alternative but to engage the Men of Umbar. If the east be long secure, then to him the south must be a threat left for him to conquer. 'Twas always so with him, even as a child. His youthful contemplation of the rivalry 'twixt that people and ours, which is deep and comes of old, hast blossomed into the obsession of his maturity." After a pause, the prince added, "My brother's disappointments in marriage hath made all the more focused his antipathy for Umbar, for Lady Berúthiel hails from amongst that people."

The Elves nodded in understanding. King Tarannon had displaced his domestic frustration upon a hereditary enemy and was teaching his chosen heir to carry on that hostility. Perhaps even the king favored his loyal brother's son o'er the spawn of a woman he had grown ambivalent about. In many ways she had strained his relationship with his people, and though seemingly loyal to him, she had failed to produce a son. 'Twas a first for the ruling line in Exile.

"Of Berúthiel what sense thou, O Prince? She seems much concerned after the welfare of the folk of Gondor," Beinvír asked.

"Ever she hast been so in word and deed," Tarciryan replied, "and yet she hast ever been strange to us. At her first coming she was't accompanied by 'naught but a white cat rather than by maids-in-waiting as would a proper noblewoman. Upon her marriage, which some rumored was't indeed the outcome of her bewitchment of our king, she prompted edicts unpopular amongst the people. There is also the garden thou hast seen, her mode of dress, her personal preferences and prohibitions, and her refusal to quash such deleterious rumors as hath spread about her. She deems such 'neath her station such that I was't much surprised when upon thy arrival she contrived to join her ancestry to thee, O Helluin."

"She brought from her homeland only a white cat?" Helluin asked in surprise.

"Indeed so," Prince Tarciryan said softly, and here he took a nervous glance about them, "and if it be not the very same cat as accompanies her yet, I mark not the difference."

He had finished in nearly a whisper and a troubled look ruled his features. The Elves hid their astonishment. His words seemed to confirm the claims of the black cat. At that very moment they were passed by a whirlwind of fur, a streak of black and white pelting down the hallway where they stood, and sure enough, 'twas the white cat chasing a black. For all intents and purposes the white seemed bent upon exacting some vengeance upon it. The two disappeared 'round a corner in a skittering of claws.

Helluin and Beinvír looked at each other and then at the prince. He was't still looking to the wake whereat the cats had fled. When he returned his attention to Helluin and Beinvír he seemed even more troubled.

"I hath no great knowledge of the ways of cats," he claimed, "yet from time to time I hath seem such aforetime, and ever 'tis the white pursuing a black. I know not if 'tis the same black, for truly I cannot tell one from the next, yet at times the count of the blacks seems diminished, though ever to be replaced. Indeed 'tis much reduced at present, for in past years they hath numbered as high as 47, all attached to Berúthiel and accepted by her despite her allergies. 'Tis a great source of distrust for her amongst the people. Yet I doubt not that the blacks art natural cats. Unlike the white, the blacks I hath seen spawned, I hath seen them as kittens and young cats, and watched them grow enfeebled by age. Oft hath I fancied that the white rules the blacks with an imperious hand…err, paw." He sighed in confusion. "In truth I hath been more troubled of late by its doings. T'would seem Lady Berúthiel spends ever more time napping, and ever doth the white lie curled beside her as if the two were holding counsel while'st abed."

The two ellith regarded the prince with disturbed expressions. Here was't yet more confirmation of the black cat's rede.

Now as the day progressed, Beinvír and Helluin explored the palace. Upon a time they came to the Chamber of the _Palantír_, and entering it, found no custodian in attendance. The room was't but dimly lit by a sparse row of small clerestory windows encircling the domed central ceiling. The Seeing Stone of Osgiliath sat upon its pedestal, shrouded 'neath a heavy, black velvet drape, and by the dust settled upon it, they deemed it had not been viewed in some years. Helluin shook her head.

"In days of old was't the mutual security and fraternity of the north and south kingdoms ensured by the Seven Seeing Stones, yet now t'would seem that practice hath been abandoned," Helluin remarked. "'Tis a bad sign, this estrangement of the realms of the brothers of Númenor."

Beinvír nodded in agreement. "A house divided is the sooner to fall," she muttered

"Aye, and a realm divorced of its king shalt fall the soonest."

Helluin looked about the chamber. To her acute Elvish eyes their own footsteps marking the faint dust lying upon the flooring stones spoke of a long desertion. None had even come hither in many years. She shook her head. None were likely to come hither now. With a last glance at the closed door behind them, she strode close to the pedestal and swept off the black cloth, revealing the Seeing Stone.

The _Palantír_ of Osgiliath was't the master stone of the realms of the Dúnedain in Exile. It measured in diameter o'er the length of Helluin's hand and forearm together. Thither it sat, dark and silent as a chunk of black volcanic glass. Beinvír looked on nervously as Helluin regarded it and she moved to Helluin's side.

"What intend thou, _meldanya_? I fear the queen would be greatly vexed were thee to gaze upon the stone without the king's leave."

"'Tis to speak with the king that I desire," Helluin said, then at the look of confusion from her beloved, she added, "nay, not Tarannon. No stone hath he aboard his ship, I wager. Rather I seek to hold converse with Lord Amlaith in Arthedain, who sits now upon the throne of Elendil in Annúminas."

Beinvír eyed her in confusion.

"Whyfore doth thou seek to take counsel with the son of Eärendur? Not in 800 years hath one of his house set foot in the south."

"He is now the eldest son of the eldest son, and he the eldest son through many fathers of the last Lord of Andunië. He should know 'aught of what transpires in hither realm. Elendil intended never that his twin realms should remain ever in segregation. By right of birth, Amlaith is lord of all the Dúnedain whether his own father willed it or no. And I mean all the Dúnedain, not in Arnor only, but in Gondor as well. Ere a brother's son of King Tarannon takes the crown, the right Lord of the Dúnedain should reclaim the line of succession as it stood in Westernesse of old."

"My love, art thou not meddling?" The Green Elf asked. "I cannot imagine King Tarannon favoring the rule of a northern cousin o'er his chosen heir."

"King Tarannon is but a step from bringing his realm into needless war with Umbar. If not he, then surely Eärnil shalt do so in his time. I deem this the ploy of the Enemy, to sap thus the strength of the southern realm, thereby to compliment the sundering of the northern realm. Herein he is laying the foundation of the ruination of Men which shalt be the first goal of his return."

Beinvír could only nod in agreement. Her beloved's analysis she could not gainsay. All too well did the Noldo perceive the ways of her great enemy. As the Green Elf looked on, Helluin stood before the stone and commanded its sight.

In a heartbeat the stone lit from within, illuminating the chamber with a leaping phosphorescence, and showing the viewing chamber of Annúminas. Little changed did it appear since the time of Elendil. At the flaring of light within the _palantír_ in the northern capitol, its custodian hastened into view. The shock upon his face as he came eye to eye with Helluin was't well 'nigh comical. Through the stone, Helluin constrained the Man's attention with her glance.

_I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwe, known of old to the fathers of thy kings. Hear my tidings as I stand in the city of Osgiliath. In days to come the line of Anárion may falter, and thy lord, being the eldest son of many Heirs of Isildur, eldest son of Elendil, will thence be rightful in claiming the throne of a restored realm of the Dúnedain in the north and south. I bid thee harken to the succession in hither realm of Gondor, for I deem the Great Enemy opens his hand with the estrangement of the Númenóreans in Exile. Stand thou together. Say thus to thy Lord Amlaith in Arthedain._

Helluin blinked, releasing the custodian's will, and ere the man could question her she snapped shut the connection.

"Well 'tis done," she said as she returned the drape to its place o'er the _palantír_. "I wonder if they shalt harken?"

"I think t'would be for the best if we took now our leave," Beinvír said nervously.

As if her words had triggered the hand of fate, the door of the viewing chamber squeaked open and the white cat drew its head and forequarters 'cross the threshold. It froze thence, halfway in the room, and stared first at them and then critically examined the draped Seeing Stone ere it withdrew. The Elves traded a glance. Beinvír shrugged.

Now when came the evening meal, Helluin and Beinvír's presence was't again requested by the queen. Again they sat with the prince in the dining room of silver and black, and after saying the blessing, the queen remarked upon a certain trespass of her guests.

"It hast come to my attention that thou entered the Chamber of the _Palantír_ this afternoon," Berúthiel said with a scowl, "and such is now forbidden by the king."

Helluin and Beinvír looked at each other. The white cat entered with its limp rat and made its way to the queen's feet where it again deposited the carcass upon the queen's slipper. Berúthiel sniffled and her eyelid ticced.

"As thou say, O Queen, we hath entered the chamber," Helluin admitted, "yet neither guards stayed us nor were warnings posted prohibiting our going. Long aforetime we stood thither with King Anárion and King Isildur, and the Prince Meneldur, and in those days they had great profit by it. Yet it seemed to us today as though a long time hast passed since that place was't frequented, for there was't no custodian and dust lay upon the floor and o'er the stone's shroud. I pray thee, whyfore hast King Tarannon sought not to converse with his brothers to the north?"

The queen's gaze darkened at being questioned and her jaw tightened as did her grip upon her fork and knife.

"'Tis at the king's whim alone whether or not he shalt seek visions in that bauble from the West, and 'tis not the place of guests to question his wisdom in the use of his own. Foremother of kings thou may be, O Helluin, but thou art herein a guest only and I counsel thee to conduct thyself as such. The _palantír_ is forbidden."

Helluin noted that the white cat was't watching her closely from 'neath the table and as yet no black cats had joined their board. 'Cross the table, Berúthiel's eyelid quickened its tic until she grimaced and raised a hand to still it by rubbing.

"Very well," Helluin said, then tilting her head to indicate the white cat, she asked, "I hath heard rumors that thy cat hast attained a great age and hast the power of speech. Doth some enchantment lie upon it?"

"Now thou harp upon the cat?" Berúthiel asked in amazement. "Thou art Elda. If any hither can'st discern the enchantment upon a cat, t'would be thou, I wager." A sly smile graced her lips. "Here now, I shalt greatly enjoy witnessing thee holding converse with it, therein to see that of which I myself am accused indeed accomplished."

Straightaway the queen beckoned her chamberlain to gather the white cat from her feet and directed him to lift it to the table. The Man did so, placing the cat upon a silver tray and setting before Helluin's place. It stared at her as if smirking. Helluin schooled her features as if resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the absurdity of the suggestion, but ere the cat could draw away its gaze, she seized it with her will and constrained it thither immobile. Thence the Light of the Two Trees kindled in her face and her eyes blazed with a _ril_ of sapphire 'neath which the cat seemed to cringe.

"_Fáne miuco, malúce lumnet?_**¹**_",_ Helluin demanded. _"Man mauyatya núreno?_**²**_"_

**¹**(**Fáne miuco, malúce lumnet,****_ White cat, what enchantment lies heavy upon thou? _****_fáne_**(white) + **_miuco_**(cat) + **_ma-_**(what) + **_lúce_**(enchantment) + **_lumne-_**(lie heavy upon) + **_-t_**(2nd pers obj pro suff, _you_) Quenya)

**²**(**Man mauyatya núreno, _Who commands thy obedience? _****_man_**(who) + **_mauya-_**(compel) + **_-tya_**(2nd pers poss pro suff, _your_) + **_núre-_**(obey) + **_-no_**(noun on verb suff, agent, _obedience_) Quenya)

Rather than voice an answer, the cat howled as if it had been burnt. Almost it seemed to try to writhe out of its skin, yet 'twas held thither upon the platter as if its feet were glued or grew as roots in deep soil from the metal. The prince recoiled in shock, but Berúthiel sat still with the hint of a grin upon her lips. Beinvír marked that the tic of her right eyelid had increased to a twitching so pronounced as to be well 'nigh a blink.

Helluin regarded the cat sternly and exerted yet more strongly her will upon it. 'Twas recalcitrant, she deemed, and the spell upon it was't very strong and long entrenched.

"_Á mauyan tye! Quenat!_**¹**_"_ Helluin demanded even more harshly. She blazed with Light, silver and gold.

**¹**(**"Á mauyan tye! Quenat,_ I command you! Speak!_ ****_á_**(1st pers imp) + **_mauya-_**(compel) + **_-n_**(1st pers sub pro suff, _I_) + **_tye_**(indep 2nd pers sing pro, _you)! **quena-**_(speak) + **_-t_**(2nd pers pro suff, _you_) Quenya)

Still the cat made no answer, but within its skin its flesh indeed struggled against the Noldo's power. The blue flames grew brighter in Helluin's eyes, while'st she perceived a depth of darkness in the pupils of the white cat akin to a bottomless pit. From that pit did a will contest with her own, and no answer had she wrung from the feline. 'Twas but one only she knew of who could match her thus, battling will to will, and he had been foremost in her mind of late. The cat's continued resistance kindled her wrath to the fury of battle at the recognition of her enemy.

And now indeed so radiant did Helluin's figure become that the queen, the prince, and the chamberlain were forced to shield their eyes. Only Beinvír could look upon her. Yet who, having seen the Light of the Two Trees, even at secondhand through the _Palantír_ of Elostirion, could be cowed by that same Light blazing from an incarnate _fëa_. A slow smoldering rose from the wood of the dining table and tendrils of wood smoke curled up about the white cat, which was't still rooted upon its platter.

"_Mórea_ _nauta nát, ten i súle Sauromir!_**¹**_"_ Helluin declared.

**¹(Mórea** **nauta nát, ten i súle Sauromir!** **_Black bound thou art, by the breath of the Abhorrent One(Sauron)!_** **_mórea_**(black) + **_nauta_**(bound) + **_ná-_**(is, _are_) + **_-t_**(2nd pers pro suff, _you_) + **_ten_**(because, _by_) + **_i_**(the) + **_súle_**(breath) + **_Saur(a)_**(abhorrent) + **_-o_**(sing gen suff, _of_) + _-mir_(agent in names) Quenya)

Now by force of long habit Helluin reached to grasp the Sarchram, but along with all their weapons it had been sequestered by the Doorwarden of the Court of Osgiliath, and her hand closed upon 'naught but emptiness at her belt. She had fully intended to slay the white cat, for the strength of its resistance proved to her beyond a doubt that 'twas in league with the Enemy. When she felt the absence of the _fëa_ banishing weapon, her frustration exploded, and in that moment her concentration faltered a fraction.

In the next instant the white cat, who had been wholly consumed in its struggle against the Noldo's power, seized this moment of respite and broke free of the grasp of Helluin's will. It bolted up and fled with such a violent flurry of scrabbling claws that the platter upon which it had stood was't flung to the floor. In a heartbeat 'twas out the door and gone.

Now 'twas long ere Helluin mastered her wrath; the discovery of her enemy's hand in Gondor confirmed her suspicions of his renewed menace, while'st her failure to vanquish his agent for lack of the appropriate weapon left her seething. A calming hand Beinvír laid upon her thigh 'neath the table and a comforting look of her eyes the Green Elf gifted to her beloved.

'_Tis but a setback, anamelda, a small thing in thy war,_ the Green Elf said silently,_ and we both know that many such delays shalt come to pass in the days ahead. As the Lord Isildur said long aforetime, this war shalt indeed last through years uncounted._

Slowly the dark Noldo calmed herself and finally she turned thence her attention to the queen.

"O Queen, thy cat is surely a thrall of the Great Enemy Sauron, and much mischief can'st he bring to thy realm and thy people," she said.

But Berúthiel looked unnaturally calm in the face of this dire warning, and the prince was't horrified, indeed she seemed unaffected by what she had witnessed. Helluin and Beinvír noted the strange brightness in her eyes.

"'Twas quite a display thou hast engaged in at my table, Elf," said the queen, "and yet it proves 'naught. Bah! I say the white cat is but a cat. What expected thou? That it should transform at thy words into a daemon? Indeed I am more shocked by thy manners. Thou hath failed again and again to conduct thyself with the decorum befitting a guest of the royal court. Once a commoner, ever a commoner, t'would seem. I find myself appalled. Therefore in the absence of my king, I am forced to banish thee both from the southern realm forthwith. Go! Get the hence from my sight."

Berúthiel's logic was't obviously contrived by some enchantment lain upon her; words whispered long ago and oft repeated held her thrall. While'st Helluin and Beinvír looked at the queen in shock, she, with lips curled in a sneer, gestured for her chamberlain to summon the guards. When she looked back at the two ellith, 'twas plain to see the madness that so unnaturally enlivened her eyes.

In silence Helluin rose from her seat at the table and Beinvír followed. She dipped her head to the queen and the prince and then strode from the chamber with gritted teeth.

Outside in the hall the guards stood waiting and in their company the Elves returned to their chamber to collect their belongings. Thither two black cats awaited them. Helluin groaned at the sight of them.

_We find thee a true and courageous friend of Gondor,_ said the first black cat.

_And a lot of good it hath done either we or thou,_ Helluin replied with resignation.

_Yet thou hath exposed both the madness of the queen and the complicity of the white cat with the Enemy,_ the second black cat said, _not bad for a day's work. The prince shalt surely report 'aught of this to his brother the king upon his return to Gondor._

_And I deem that thou hast done more than merely enter the forbidden Chamber of the Palantír_, the first cat added with a knowing blink.

_All thou say is true,_ Beinvír told them,_ yet 'twas not enough to change 'aught for the better this day. All shalt proceed as 'twas aforetime, I wager._

_For a time perhaps, but not forever,_ the second cat agreed, adding, _yet now I and my sister hath a boon to beg of thee._

Helluin raised an eyebrow in question, bidding it continue.

'_Tis no longer safe for us to remain hither, for the white hath marked our dissent. We beg thee therefore, let us join thee upon the road for a time…a short time as thou of everlasting life would reckon it. Unlike thee, foreigners who might be banished, we art saddled with charges of treason…and think thou not that the queen shalt fail to act. The white whispers poison in her ears and bends her to his will. To stay now would be our death. Such hast happened aforetime._

_What say thee? _The first cat asked hopefully.

At this request, Helluin sighed and threw up her hands in capitulation. She had never shared the company of a cat for any length of time. Beside her Beinvír chuckled and Helluin glanced at the Green Elf.

_Surely 'tis fitting that a couple such as we should hath a pair of cats,_ Beinvír said.

Helluin shrugged her surrender to the suggestion and turned to gather up her travel bag and bedroll._ Keep up,_ she muttered to the cats, ere she and Beinvír turned from the room and rejoined the guards for their march to the gate.

'Twas fully night when the two ellith and their two black cats made their way to the gate of Osgiliath. In leaving the palace Helluin rejoiced most at the return of her weapons, and indeed the Doorwarden of Osgiliath was't only too glad to be done with them. For the relief of their boredom Anguirél and the Sarchram had spent the last two days threatening him unmercifully, though Helluin knew 'naught of this.

The black cats had silently followed the Elves through the palace and into the streets with one incident only that any would deem worthy of remark. 'Nigh the doors of the Dome of Stars the palace guards had been replaced by the very same soldiers who had first escorted them thither from the park. In their company was't the very same dog and it immediately clove to Beinvír's side. She greeted it with a smile and a pat upon the head. As they made their way hence into the forum before the palace, Helluin caught a glimpse of white slinking along a wall nearby and she nudged the Green Elf's shoulder. Beinvír looked thither and her sharp eyes spied the white cat sitting and watching them, smirking and well satisfied with their banishment. It irked her.

At her softly whispered words**¹**, the dog wrenched its leash free from its handler and charged 'cross the forum in pursuit of the white cat. Very nearly the dog caught it in its jaws, and then gave chase 'till it disappeared down a drainage slot in the paving. The dog then trotted back, with wagging tail, a doggy smile, and a dangling tongue, to receive the praise and pats of the Green Elf and the scolding of its handler, (to which it seemed to pay no attention at all). Thereafter it behaved in exemplary fashion but took the liberty of generously licking the two black cats as if they were pups. The cats cringed at being anointed with copious dog saliva, but they endured it and strayed not from the Elves' sides, while'st the Elves chuckled to themselves at the sight of it.

**¹**(Most likely **_"Ego rýn!"_** - **"Go, hound of chase!"**, or some similar command. Sindarin)

The escorts bade them farewell at the city gates and thereafter the two Elves and their two black cats took their footsteps straightaway northwest by the road from Osgiliath to Minas Arnor. That night they went only so far as the crossroads ere they trudged into a field and threw down their things in disgust. Thither they made a cheerless camp. Neither elleth had an appetite, and so after starting a fire and sharing a pot of tea, they unrolled their ground cloths and lay down pretending to rest.

"Tuor would turn in his grave, aye, and Elrond shalt certainly be ill to know what hath befallen his brother's people," Helluin carped through clenched teeth as Ithil made his way 'cross the night sky. Through the hours of darkness the Noldo uttered similar disparaging comments as she brooded upon the state of Gondor. It seemed an unusually long time ere dawn.

"I hear thou art discomfited by the appearance yet again of an unbalanced queen of thy bloodline," Beinvír chided, disturbed once more from her semblance of rest by her partner's griping. Helluin groaned at the truth of it, recalling yet again Tar-Ancalime.

"Go catch thou a mouse or some such fitting vermin," she rebuked the cats when she noted them staring at her ere she rolled upon her side and gritted her teeth in silence. In response, the cats curled up upon the further side of the Green Elf and pretended to sleep as cats art wont to do.

Now in the tales of latter days, when Queen Berúthiel is recalled at all, some loremasters say she had a dozen cats, one white and eleven black. Others say twelve black and one white, while'st more tales tell of ten cats, one white and nine black**¹**. Amongst the Wise, some scholars of pedantic predilection hath been given to arguing o'er the count of the cats, for the visit of Helluin and Beinvír and their banishment from Osgiliath was't struck from the records of the court. In any case, 'tis a fated irony that in her own time, Queen Berúthiel and her remaining cats were banished from the southern realm by the order of the king. Of yet greater irony is the fact that they were commanded to go by ship.

**¹**(An extant fragment from JRRT gives the total as 10, 1 white and 9 black. _UT, Pt 4, Ch II, The Istari, pg 402)_

**To Be Continued**


	86. In An Age Before Chapter 86

**In An Age Before – Part 86

* * *

**

**Chapter Fifty-four**

_**Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now following their frustrating debacle in Gondor, Helluin and Beinvír returned disgruntled to Eriador, for more than any other place in Middle Earth, the two thought of it as home. Thus in the autumn of T.A. 870 the two ellith and their two cats came again to the rolling green lands 'twixt the Hithaeglir and the Ered Luin. As was't oft the case upon their returns, they soon found themselves in the company of the Laiquendi. Though they had been gone little more than two seasons in the south, it had been some years since last they had seen these old friends.

"Greetings Beinvír and Helluin, 'tis good to meet thee once again," Dálindir said in welcome. The two ellith had come upon the King of the Green Elves and his company 'nigh a wooded hill in the midlands of Eriador, beside a pleasant tributary stream that led east to the growing river Baranduin. 'Twas now 27 Narbeleth, (October 27th), TA 870.

"Our greetings to thee, O Dálindir," Beinvír replied with a warm smile. "How hath the time passed in this pleasant land? Art thy people well? I see that thy general and thy captain and many other old friends still travel with thee. I am glad."

Tórferedir, Gwilolrán, Gérorn, and Celegaras returned her smile. Others whom Beinvír had long known were present as well. Indeed she could not recall ever seeing her king in so large a company in times of peace. About them were encamped well 'nigh four dozen Green Elves. Dálindir noted her glance.

"Of late we hath taken to wandering in larger companies," he explained. "Times hath changed and art changing yet the more. As ere the last war, the kingdom of Men expands. More tillith and larger hamlets hath spread 'cross the lands. 'Tis less easy to roam without contact, and in those places were Men art few, the land supports larger companies as easily as smaller. Of late, with the partition of Arnor, territories art held the closer, indeed almost jealously, especially in Cardolan and Rhudaur. Thither we hath oft seen soldiers patrolling, and these we avoid on principle. We deem 'tis but a matter of time ere anger flares o'er the disposition of Amon Sûl. Still, Arthedain at least conducts itself much as was't the way in Arnor aforetime, though for how long that shalt be, we know not." Dálindir sighed and shook his head.

"My friend," Helluin said, "in these deeds thou hast seen the wages of the opening moves of Sauron's return. Alas! For all the blood that was't spilt in the last war he survived and now exercises again his malice."

To this the gathered Laiquendi harkened with undisguised horror. The king looked from Helluin to Beinvír and the Green Elf nodded her agreement to her king. Seeing the company's shock and yet too their curiosity, Helluin continued with her tidings.

"We hath come of late from Osgiliath in Gondor. Thither doth the Dark Lord stretch his hand in preparation for some coming evil. Already, I wager, he hath abetted the splintering of the north kingdom. He hath infected the Dúnedain of Isildur's house with contentiousness. In the south he estranges the people from their lords and preoccupies them with petty intrigues. Thither we hath seen the madness of the queen and the war-lusting of the king. Even now he grooms his brother-son to assail Umbar. When The Abhorred One returns, he shalt face but fractured resistance from the Men of the West who were aforetime his mightiest foes. I deem he seeks to devour them piecemeal ere they can stand against him united."

"Again thou live up to thy name, Mórgolodh," Tórferedir said, "and alas, as aforetime thy ill-tidings art no doubt true. We hath seen the disunity of the Dúnedain and increased unrest amongst the Dunlendings. Know thou 'aught of the Nine? Surely they hath regained their strength o'er the years since thy combat?" The old general looked closely at the Noldo.

"'Naught of them hath I marked either hither in Eriador or in the southern realm. Of them I know 'naught, though I deem thy words well founded." Here Helluin dipped her head in acknowledgement to the old general of the Host of the Laiquendi. "In adding one newly corrupted to their company, and by healing long in Shadows, the Úlairi hath surely by now recouped much of their lost power. Alas, t'would that Isildur had destroyed the enemy's Ring."

To this many heads nodded in agreement. For a time all were silent with foreboding.

"I deem we shalt know them by their acts," Gwilolrán finally said, "for such terror as they art rumored to spread shalt surely not be long hidden."

"Aye," said Helluin, "the wraiths art not themselves if stripped of the fear they conjure. 'Tis their first weapon against mortals. When they arise we shalt hear of them."

"Then 'till that time we shalt remain vigilant," Tórferedir said. "Though Eriador hast long hosted the kingdoms of Men, 'twas longer still the home of the Nandor, even in the days of Ossiriand. We hath a stake hither and 'naught of evil shalt escape our eyes."

Again the company nodded in agreement. They would keep a careful watch upon Eriador. Unfortunately that time of watching proved less long than many amongst them would hath hoped. Indeed the time was't to be short as the Elves reckoned it.

Now thereafter the days passed in a watchful peace and the years came and went. As Helluin and Beinvír had feared, Eärnil I succeeded Tarannon Falastur in TA 913. 'Twas but a decade later that the animosity 'twixt Gondor and Umbar increased. At first 'twas skirmishes amongst seamen, proxies of their parent kingdoms, but soon the realms fought openly and war was't declared. The ships of Gondor then blockaded the Firth of Umbar and shortly thereafter a siege was't laid to the city itself. An expeditionary force from Ithilien came south of the River Harnen. Thence by ship and by land the soldiers and sailors of the southern realm pressured their ancient foes. Many battles were fought, but the might of King Eärnil's army and navy prevailed. In 933 Umbar fell.

Thereafter the occupation of Umbar proceeded, and while'st some lords amongst the Black Númenóreans were subjugated, many more fled inland to the kingdoms of Near Harad. Thither they rallied the Southrons against the northern invaders, allying themselves more closely with the Haradrim, and continuing to contest the country north and south of Umbar and inland from the coasts. For decades to come they persisted in a low level conflict, building alliances and strength for a campaign against the kings of Gondor.

In those early days of the occupation of Umbar, Eärnil I strove to strengthen his grasp in the south, and like his predecessor, he was't oft upon the sea. Thus 'twas aboard ship that he lost his life in 936, when a great storm blew in off Belegaer and sank his flagship along with many other vessels off the coast of Umbar. Eärnil I was't succeeded then by his son Ciryandil, who continued his father's warring against the Southrons. Fighting continued off and on for a century and more. Yet in 1015 the Black Númenóreans and their Haradrim allies laid siege to Umbar, surprising the Men of Gondor with their numbers and ferocity. Thither did Ciryandil fall in battle, though 'twas on land rather than at sea. He was't succeeded by his son Ciryaher. 'Twas then by Gondor's great sea power that Umbar survived in Gondorian hands, for to the defenders did ships bring reinforcements and supplies unopposed.

Slowly the city endured the siege and indeed slowly the see-saw fighting outside the walls drew back until a buffer existed about Umbar. At last in TA 1050 did Ciryaher's forces drive the Haradrim back with a great counterattack, breaking their leaguer about the harbor lands. Thither were many of the remaining Black Númenóreans slain. The strength of the Men of Harad faltered. Gondor finally broke the resistance of the natives and took possession of Near Harad. Then the southern kings sued for peace and laid down their arms, and thereafter for many generations did the Haradrim acknowledged the Kings of Gondor as their o'erlords. Thence did Ciryaher take the title Hyarmendacil I, signifying Victor of the South.

Now these things came to pass in the southern realm of the Dúnedain and tidings came thence to Eriador. Yet as aforetime word came by way of messengers while'st the _palantíri_ remained silent and dark. Lord Amlaith ruled Arthedain 'till 946 ere he passed on the scepter to his son, Beleg. Neither lord acted upon the message of 870 that Helluin had sent through the _palantír_ of Osgiliath. 'Twas known that war raged in the south and a claim upon the throne in such times was't sure to be refused. Neither Amlaith nor Beleg sought to bring divisiveness amongst their southern kin. Then too each had more local relations to consider, for how could they rightly claim the rule of Gondor when they ruled not the whole of Arnor? Thus the rule of the south kingdom passed from the direct line of Anárion unopposed. Perhaps 'twas best for all in those days, for soon enough trouble would come to the north. 'Twas during Beleg's reign that the first great evil came to the north and west, manifesting itself in the darkening of Calenglad i'Dhaer.

In those days after Beleg took the throne in Annúminas, a dark spirit came upon the hill of Laiquadol. 'Twas some sorcerer perhaps, most thought, deeming him the powerful lord of some fell tribe of Easterlings out of the far lands east of Rhûn. Yet 'twas soon found that this power cloaked in shadow held great potency. The resistance of the Onodrim and their _Huorns_ was't o'ercome and the people of Oldbark were driven hence, northwards within the wood for a time. From the mid-900s did Men come thither from the east for to fulfill the commands of this conjuror, and they did his bidding as if he were a god, raising for him a tower thither upon that height which became known as Amon Lanc. 'Twas the fearsome fortress of Dól Gúldúr. Ere the ending of the century, the Men of Rhovanion whispered in growing fear of the Necromancer.

Now early in TA 1001, while'st the air held still its winter chill and the days were yet short, a messenger came by horseback and in haste to Eriador from the northeast, and ever he sought thither for one Helluin Maeg-mórmenel. Bright armor he wore and upon his pennant was't the device of Imladris. He was't one of the Eldar, a young appearing lord of the High Elves, and he traveled openly amongst the settlements of Men. Because such was't rare in those days, first the people of Rhudaur and then the folk of Cardolan were amazed. These Dúnedain honored the messenger, indeed holding him in reverence for the place of his people in their own histories, but they could tell him 'naught of she whom he sought save for some old tales that he knew better than they.

Amongst the other free peoples of Eriador he fared little better. Wandering companies of Sindar he met after some months upon the roads, but they too could tell him little of the dark Noldo, save that she was't known to them, though not seen in many years. From amongst the Dunlendings he received 'naught but sullen denials of any knowledge. To and fro he rode 'cross the rolling green hills, from the foothills of the mountains in the east to the downs of the west. Even to Mithlond did he finally come at last in the waning of that year, and to the Lord Círdan he presented himself, voicing thence his quest.

"My Lord Shipwright," he said while'st bowing deeply to the ancient Sinda, "'tis known by my Lord Elrond that thou knew this Helluin Maeg-mórmenel aforetime. Indeed I know 'naught of her save the words of my father and what some ancient tales tell, for I myself was't born in the Hidden Valley in this Age of the Sun and hath never laid eyes upon her. I pray thee then, Lord, hath thou any knowledge of her whereabouts?"

The bright-eyed Sinda looked o'er the young messenger and knew that this quest was't one of great gravity to his lord. Elrond _Peredhel _would scarce hath sent thither one of such importance save when the loremaster of Imladris deemed the message and the summons dire. He found himself troubled by the timing. But a year aforetime he would hath known Elrond's need at once. Communication had been curtailed 'twixt their realms of late.

"Give first my greetings and regards to thy father, young Elladan" Círdan said gravely. "'Tis nine hundred years since we hath met, he and I. For many _yeni_ we knew each others' minds, yet of late, no longer. Say then that I wish him well in this time of fading and I miss our conversations of old, when at the High King's court in Lindon we would meet. My blessings too I doth send thither to thy brother and sister, and to thy mother, the lovely Princess Celebrian.

Now as for thy errand I shalt tell thee this; thy father must deem his need great for to seek after Helluin, and in sending thee hence he hast offered thee a chance to meet one of the most mighty of our kindred yet upon the Hither Shores. Thou should deem thyself fortunate to walk in her company should thou be successful in thy quest. Know this too; she is doubtless already aware of thee, and if thou should meet, then 'twill be 'naught but by her leave."

Elladan raised his bright eyes in question to the Lord of Mithlond. At the edge of his sight he marked the two elderly robed Men with whom the Shipwright had been holding counsel at his entrance. They had withdrawn somewhat to comfortable chairs 'cross the room and bided thither their time in patience, watching all, but speaking not. From them Elladan felt the hint of great power well suppressed or hidden. 'Twas…perplexing.

"Helluin travels in the company of one of the Laiquendi," Círdan continued, "and though thou hath marked them not, thou hath surely passed many of that people in this land. They art the unseen eyes and ears of Eriador, and most of that which comes to pass herein is known to them. Helluin they hath come to regard as one of their own, and this alone should tell thee somewhat of her, for even I would travel in ignorance of their presence in these lands. Tidings they hath surely shared with her and her companion." Then, with a brighter glint in his eye, he added, "Indeed thou hast most likely been trailed for many weeks, thy mind subtly searched, and thy errand known."

A slight grin shaped Círdan's lips at the shock that grew upon the face of Elrond's son. Behind the two Men a tall shadow separated itself from a deeper shadow cast upon the wall and moved into the center of the room. Elladan felt his heartbeat pounding. Even with his clear Elven sight he had marked not that any others were present, and save for the figure's choice to reveal itself now he would hath remained at unawares. Such was't as the sorcery of a wraith!

The shadow came to stand with him before the Lord of the Havens, and drawing back the hood of her cloak, revealed a long fall of jet hair and sapphire eyes kindled with such Light as he had never seen. 'Twas as if she had drawn back a cloak of the spirit as surely as that made of cloth. Save for the Lord Glorfindel, none he had met shone forth such Light of Aman from their being. The power hidden 'neath her shabby raiment of mixed greens beat upon him as a great wave. For a moment he met her eyes, and thither he was't constrained.

_Mae govannen, Elladan iond Elrond_**¹**,Helluin said silently in Sindarin, then switching to Quenya added, _Maquetta atartyallo?_**²**

**¹**(**Mae govannen, Elladan iond Elrond. _Well met, Elladan son of Elrond. Mae_**(well) + **_govannen_**(met) + **_Elladan_**(_Elf-Man_) + **_iond_**(son) + **_Elrond. _**Sindarin)

**²**(**Maquetta atartyallo?_ What word from thy father? Ma-_**(interr pro pref, _what_) + **_quetta_**(word) + **_atar_**(father) + **_-tya_**(2nd pers poss pro suff, _your_) +** _-llo_**(ablat suff, _from_)Quenya)

At first Elladan blinked in surprise. Few were the times upon which he had heard Quenya spoken, for in Imladris, indeed in all the west, that ancient tongue was't now reserved for 'naught but lore and ceremony. Still, the lessons of his father came to his mind and he answered haltingly in kind, for now he found he could withhold nothing.

_Atarnya yala tye anta ngolwe ar tercen nyárane quettarnnar aistaiva Taurellon_**¹**_. Eques tana Fuine loaie tar_**².**

**¹(Atarnya yala tye anta ngolwe ar tercen nyárane quettarnnar aistaiva taurellon. _My father calls you to give counsel_**_(lit. wisdom and insight) **related to the words of fear from the Great Forest**_**. _atar_**(father) + **_-nya_**(1st pers poss suff, _my_) + **_yala_**(call) + **_tye_**(indep 2nd pers pro, _you_) + **_anta_**(inf v, _to _give) + **_ngolwe_**(wisdom) + **_ar_**(and) + **_tercen_**(insight) + **_nyára-_**(relate) + **_-ne_**(imperf past suff) + **_quetta_**(word) + **_-r_**(pl) + **_-nnar_**(allat suff, _to)_ + **_aista-_**(fear) + **_-iva_**(assoc suff, _of_) + **_Taure_**(great forest) + **_-llon_**(ablat suff, _from_). Quenya)

**²**(**Eques tana Fuine loaie tar._ 'Tis said that a Shadow grows_**_(lit. is growing) **thither.**_** _eque-_**(say) + **_-s_**(3rd pers neut sing subj pro suff, _it_) + **_tana_**(that) + **_fuine_**(deep shadow) + **loa(**growth) + **_-ie_**(verbal n suff) + **_tar_**(there). Quenya)

Now 'twas Helluin's turn to blink in surprise, for these tidings she deemed quite grave. Elladan's choice of words said as much. He had used the word _fuine_, 'deep shadow', rather than _mordo, avása, _or_ lumbe_, all of which signified a normal shade. _Fuine_ held the connotation of a darkness associated with evil, a dimming of the spirit's hope as much as the world's light. Long aforetime after the Dagor Bragollach, the land of Dorthonian, whither Morgoth had laid deep sorcery and horror, had been renamed _Taur-Nu-Fuin_, the Forest Beneath Night. Thither in that accursed highland that faced Angband 'cross a scant 50 desolate miles, none save a few of heroic courage had ventured; Barahir's desperate band of survivors, Beren Erchamion, Beleg Cúthalion, and Turin Turambar. And in the 3rd Age there was't but one _Taure, _or Great Forest…Calenglad i'Dhaer.

With a blink Helluin released Elladan and he took a deep breath to steady his heart. She had turned to face Círdan, and beyond him, the two old Men.

"By thy grace, my lords, I take my leave, for I am called thither to Imladris."

The Lord of Mithlond dipped his head, both in acknowledgment and acceptance of her decision. Elladan saw one of the old Men, the one robed in grey, also nod, somehow conveying warmth and hope in his sharp, blue-eyed glance. The other Man, robed in white, merely gazed at them with a studied detachment that thinly veiled a burning curiosity about their business. The son of Elrond felt a vague disquiet while'st the subject of his attention.

After bowing to the three, Helluin turned, and with a cant of her head signaled the young ellon to lead her hence. Elladan bowed again to Lord Círdan and began to step away.

_Linna as estel ar eruanna, Heldalúne Maica i móremenel_**¹, **the old man in the grey robes whispered softly. From 'cross the room his voice came clearly to their ears, though Elladan thought it projected somewhat unnaturally. The words brought a smile to Helluin's face and the hint of an expression 'nigh a sneer from his companion in white.

**¹**(**Linna as estel ar eruanna, Heldalúne Maica i móremenel. _Go with hope and grace, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel. __linna_**(go) + **_as_**(with) + **_estel_**(hope) +**_ ar_**(and) + **_eruanna_**(grace), **_Heldalúne Maica i-móremenel_** Quenya)

Helluin and Elladan had come to the door of the chamber when Helluin paused, bringing Elrond's son to a halt beside her. For one moment he looked to her with questioning eyes, but at that moment an unfamiliar voice spoke softly at his side.

"So we art bound now for Imladris, _meldanya_? I shalt rejoice to greet again my friend and healer Lord Elrond and the Princess Celebrian, and at last, young Lady Arwen."

Elladan had turned sharply in surprise and now he beheld for the first time Beinvír, who stood inexplicably at his elbow smiling at the him and Helluin. In that moment his heart was't stricken by her beauty. The fugitive light that flickered in the depths of her clear, grey eyes held him as surely as had the radiant blue of Helluin's, but no words in any tongue could he find to speak. Indeed his tongue felt suddenly dry in his mouth.

"Elladan, meet my _melda_ _fëa_ _vesse_**¹**, Beinvír Laiquende," Helluin said.

**¹**(**melda fëa vesse, _beloved soulmate_**_(lit. spirit-wife) **melda**_(beloved) + **_fëa_**(spirit) + **_vesse_**(wife) Sindarin)

Elladan gulped and as he nodded his eyes found Beinvír's hand and marked the ring upon the third finger of her left. Thither a band of _mithril _and gold in the form of the Two Trees of Valinor with a joined canopy carved of adamant was't wrapped about her slender finger. 'Twas a ring of marriage if ever a one he had seen. He felt then the stab in his heart at a meeting with someone who would long claim his devotion, yet whose heart was't long spoken for and her own love long given to another. _Hopeless love and an enchanted ring_, he sadly mused as they filed out the door and into the hall. _Alas, no more lucky am I upon this day than was't Lord Celebrimbor at his first meeting with my grandmother, Galadriel_.

'Twas long ere Elladan realized that while'st he had marked with shock Helluin's first appearance from the shadows, never had he marked 'aught of Beinvír's approach 'till he heard her words spoken 'nigh his shoulder. Her stealth had been complete. Such was't his first meeting with a Green Elf, and thereafter he believed all the Lord Círdan had said.

**To Be Continued**


	87. In An Age Before Chapter 87

**In An Age Before – Part 87**

**_Author's Note: Readers, please excuse some slight deviations from canon in this chapter._

* * *

**

**Chapter Fifty-five**

_**The Council of Imladris – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now the year 1001 was't old when they set out from Mithlond with the month of Hithui, (November), fading. Girithron, (December), passed as they made their way 'cross the miles of Eriador. So 'twas upon the very first day of the new year, TA 1002, when the company crossed the Ford of Bruinen and ascended the path into the realm of Imladris.

At the return of Elladan many thither rejoiced, for he had been afield upon his father's errantry for well 'nigh a year. Straightaway the three were conveyed to Elrond's study wherein they were met by the Lord of Imladris, Glorfindel, Erestor, Lady Celebrian, and most surprisingly, Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. Helluin and Beinvír bowed to the gathering of nobles and they were welcomed warmly by their old friends.

"May the stars of Elbereth ever shine upon thy footsteps, my far-wandering friends," Lord Elrond said. "'Tis good to meet thee once again."

"'Tis good to meet thee again as well, my friend," Helluin replied.

"Indeed 'tis good, and ever shalt I be thankful to thee that we art able to do so," Beinvír said with a dip of her head and a smile. Then her eyes lit afresh as she turned to the Lady Celebrian. "Thou and thy lord hath been blessed since last we met. Thy noble son hath led us well, while'st another such and a daughter too thou hath of whom we hath heard."

Elrond and Celebrian nodded and smiled with pride. Warm smiles too graced the faces of Celeborn and Galadriel at the mention of their grandchildren.

"And thou, old friend, 'tis good to see thee again," Helluin said to Glorfindel ere her eyes swept the others gathered thither, "indeed 'tis a fine surprise to be met by so many friends of old. Yet what goes forth? The words that Elladan brought to Mithlond were dark."

Elrond sighed as if a weight had been laid upon his shoulders and the others looked troubled as well. For a moment 'twas only silence, then Galadriel set her sharp eyes upon Helluin and asked what seemed an unrelated question.

"Thou art new-come from Mithlond, Helluin. I pray thee, hast thou seen 'aught thither of…unusual nature?" She raised a brow in question, though Helluin suspected that she had some foreknowledge of the events that had come to pass ere they had left the Havens.

"Indeed I hath seen 'aught of 'unusual nature', as thou hast called it," she said, "and if thou deem such tidings fit to be spoken hither, then I shalt proffer them to all."

Both Elrond and Galadriel answered her with a nod 'yes'.

"Upon midsummer last did a ship come thither from the West," Helluin said, "and 'twas no ship of the Lonely Isle, but rather it sailed from the Swan Haven, Alqualonde. In her rode such as we hath not seen upon the Hither Shores in an Age and more; Maiar of the Blessed Realm numbering five, but 'tis said that when they set foot upon the mortal lands, at once were their beings cloaked and their Light hidden, and thereafter in the guise of old Men did they appear. 'Tis upon a great errand of the Valar that they hath come, I wager, yet of its nature they would speak to none. Still, 'tis not so hard to guess their purpose. Three had made their way thence from the Havens, while'st two yet remained in Mithlond when we took our leave to come hither."

(In _UT, Pt IV, TI, pg388, _it is said that, _"…none save maybe Elrond, Círdan, and Galadriel discovered of what kind they were or from whence they came."_ Further, it is said that for long, only Círdan knew that they came from over the sea. I have obviously departed from canon on this point and hope you will excuse my liberty here. I feel that such secrets would have been of the utmost interest to the Wise and that some inklings would hath been sensed by the Keepers of theElven Rings in Imladris, particularly the change in the guardianship of Narya.)

For long the gathering fell silent. Helluin's news was't well 'nigh unbelievable, and yet to the two who bore Rings of Power, for two seasons a feeling had been lodged in their minds of something potent moving to their west. 'Twas not a threat, yet presaged one, and 'twas a blessing not unmixed with danger. Neither they nor their advisors had guessed what the true cause of that feeling was't. And worse, at about that same time their ability to sense and converse 'cross Eriador with Círdan had failed.

_So then_, thought Galadriel, _perhaps these Maiar of the Blessed Realm hath come hither to contest with Sauron, should he arise. Many such did I know in Aman, yet I wager many more did Helluin know, for in those days she wandered the lands and met well 'nigh all._

She was't not alone in her thought; Lord Glorfindel too guessed shrewdly.

'_Tis my hope that Manwë hath sent forth His agents to our succor in the coming days_, Glorfindel thought, _and much shalt we be in need of courage and inspiration should Sauron arise again as of old, for our allies art diminished and grown estranged since the Last Alliance. Yet but five hath been sent hither and they walk in the guise of elders of the Younger Children. I wager then that these art meant not to be warriors, but rather counselors perhaps? I wonder who the Elder King hath sent? Perchance Helluin doth know._

"Were these Maiar known to thee, Helluin?" Galadriel asked, speaking the thought of both. Celeborn, Celebrian, Elladan, and Erestor looked at her in surprise. The idea that Helluin might hath known these Maiar from long aforetime in Aman had not occurred to them.

"Indeed so. All were familiar to me upon a time."

"Can'st thou tell us 'aught of them then, Helluin?" Elrond asked with the intense curiosity of one born in mortal lands.

Helluin sighed. Of the five, but one had been a friend. One further had been for a short time an instructor in craft. The other three had been only passing acquaintances.

"They art charged as an Order by the Elder King," Helluin began, "and Círdan and the folk of Mithlond hath come to call them the _Ithryn_**¹**. In the Days of the Trees I first met in the House of Nienna, the Maia Olórin, and oft later did I find him in Lórien. He is deep in wisdom, yet deeper still in understanding, and I value him greatly as a friend."

**¹**(**Ithryn**, (pl of **Ithron**), Sindarin translation of the Quenya **Istari**. **Ithron** is given in _UT, _pg 388, and does not translate precisely as _wise_(istui) or _wizard_ (curunír) Sindarin)

Indeed Helluin had been both glad and apprehensive at their recent meeting, for she knew that Olórin would hath been deeply disappointed in her many acts of rage, in the atrocities she had committed in Eriador, and in her unamendable hatred of Sauron and his minions. Yet the Maia had greeted her with fair words and not a trace of condemnation. As of old, he had accepted her as she was't. In a rare episode, the dour Noldo had been moved to tears by the absolution of her friend.

"Too I hath the long acquaintance of _Maitemir_**¹**, whom the Sindar now call _Curunír_, and whom I first met amongst the people of Aule," Helluin continued. "Much I learnt from him of artificing and of fabrication. Yet ever was't he intrigued with knowledge, indeed a more curious one I hath never met, and of that knowledge, the more arcane 'twas, the better it appealed. He is deep and mighty in concentration, yet I hath some reservations about him. I recall he was't of old unpleased by Feanor's mastery, as it were a challenge to his own, and he is proud and stern, and not above anger."

**¹**(**Maitemir, _Skilled One,_ _maite_**(skilled) + **_-mir_**(agent in names) Quenya. This name is not canon, but approximates the meaning of the Sindarin name **Curunír, _Skilled One._** In _UT, _pg 393, the name **Curumo, _Inventor_** or **_Wright_** in Quenya, appears.)

Helluin had not been happy to see him. Their relationship had soured quickly in Aman, for few of the Noldor had learnt so effortlessly as she, and none had valued so little what they had wrought. Helluin had attained to much of Maitemir's craft, yet regarded it as if t'were but a folly, for in those days she had been even more profoundly unimpressed with works of skill while'st even more greatly enamoured of the Valar's living creations. Her attitude had insulted his pride. She had perceived the Maia's resentment of her and had soon taken to avoiding him whenever possible. He in turn had considered her an anachronism, an ingrate, a vulgar commoner, and a waste of his time. She was't hardly surprised to hath found him attired in raiment of white, as leader of the Ithryn.

"In Aman, _Nilmo Celvariva_**¹** was't of the Maiar of Yavanna, and one of the few with whom I shared converse with the creatures of the Blessed Realm. He in fact spent great tracts of time in their company and learnt much of their experiences. The folk of Tirion called him _Aiwendil_**¹** in those days. He is a gentle soul and if this order is to contest with the Great Enemy as some suspect, then I dare question the wisdom of sending him hither. I still recall him upon all fours, barkingin the company ofthe hounds of Orome and chasing his absent tail.The Sindar now call him _Radaghír_**²**. He went forth into Eriador but a fortnight after landfall and hast not returned to Mithlond since."

**¹(Nilmo Celvariva, _Friend of Animals,_** **_nilmo_**(m.)(friend) + **_celva_**(animal) + **_-r_**(pl suff) + **_-iva_**(pl assoc suff, _of_) Quenya. Of note here is material on pgs 393 and 401 of _UT,_ telling that in Aman, Radagast bears the name **Aiwendil, _Lover of Birds_**(?) in Quenya.)

**²**(**Radaghír**, **_Beast Lord,_** **_radag_**(beast, animal) +**_ hír_**(lord) Sindarin, and again, not canon, but the very similar name **Radagast** is said to be Mannish in origin.)

"Two others there were also, Maiar of the following of Orome," Helluin said. "They art _Pallando_**¹** a skilled hunter, and _Alatar_**²**, an archer ofgrim prowess. Both were tall and strong when in Aman, yet hither they too appear as Men of many years, clad in robes of sea-blue. They left Mithlondbut a day after landfall, even ere the Sindar had named them in their tongue, and whither they hath journeyed since, I know not.

**¹**(**Pallando, **(untranslatable) **_palla_**(wide, expansive) or **_palan_**(afar) + **_-nd_**(?) + **_-o_**(n on adj agent or possibly gen suff) Quenya. This name appears in _UT, _pg 393.)

**²**(**Alatar**, **_Radiances _**alata(radiance) + **_-r_**(pl suff) Quenya. This name appears in _UT, _pg 393.)

Of them all Galadriel remembered most Maitemir, for he had early on discerned her distrust of Feanor and had sought her confederacy. She had, in turn, come to distrust him as well. She'd had little interest in practicing the work of craftsmen and could fathom not his interest in her save for the advancement in standing amongst the Noldor that association with her might confer. Such a consideration should hath been 'neath the concern of a Maia, she had thought, and therefore she had become suspicious of his motives long ago.

Alatar and Pallando she knew from hunts ridden long aforetime in Valinor. The two hunters had been friendly and good company on a few occasions, but not close, for she had seen them only infrequently. Nilmo Celvariva she had never met, and though she enjoyed birdsong much like any elleth, Finarfin's daughter had cared less for the creatures themselves in those days. Olórin she had met in Aman in the early years, for her grandfather Finwe had valued his counsel. She remembered him as highly sensitive, perceptive, and all too serious for her tastes in company. Now that so much time had passed, she thought they might hath more in common. At the very least, she suspected that he would divine her custody of a Ring of Power whensoever they met. So too would Maitemir if she weren't very careful, and that thought troubled her. Galadriel sighed.

"So then this great thing hast come to pass in Mithlond," Elrond said, "and we hath had some inkling of it, yet whyfore, I wonder, hath Círdan sent not any word to us?"

"Word shalt come to thee in its time," Helluin hinted, "but I deem the days of knowing such at once art past."

At Helluin's words, Galadriel gave her a sharp look and then a moment later both she and Elrond nodded in understanding. Círdan no longer wore the Ring of Fire. Their link with Mithlond 'cross the miles of Eriador was't undone. At once they wondered to whom it had been passed. They stared at Helluin by reflex and she twitched her eyes side to side rather than shake her head 'no'. The others seated in the study noticed not her subtle gesture nor discerned the subject of their silent communication. Then the two Ringwearers sought to sense the Ring and at this too they failed. They felt it not at all. That alone told them much and now they knew a fresh doubt. He who held it was't powerful enough to shield it even from their eyes. Galadriel in particular hoped that Narya had come not to the hand of Maitemir. The silence grew prolonged and the other counselors were looking from face to face in growing confusion. Helluin spoke to return the group's attention to less sensitive topics.

"We hath still to speak of that for which Beinvír and myself hath been called hither," she noted. "Elladan hinted of a Shadow that hast grown in Greenwood of late."

To this Lord Elrond swallowed hard and shook his head sadly. From yon Hithaeglir just o'er a year aforetime had come messengers from King Thranduil. His folk had suffered great upheaval. Not for the first time did the Lord of Imladris rue the months it had taken his son to find Helluin and Beinvír.

"A Shadow indeed hast grown in Greenwood," he said, "and it lies o'er a place well known to thee. 'Tis rooted upon Laiquadol, the very home of thy friend, Oldbark."

"I feel it ever growing in my mind," Galadriel added, "ever darkening. 'Tis said a great and fell sorcerer abides thither. We fear rather 'tis one of the Úlairi."

Not a mortal sorcerer but a Ringwraith! Helluin gritted her teeth. If only she had been able to slay them all in Orodruin, but alas, they had fled her and only one of their company had fallen. She felt that just as Isildur's folly had open the door for the return of Sauron, so too had her failure opened the door for this invasion of Greenwood. Now 'twas her old friend, the Lord of the Onodrim who had suffered.

'Twas a chilling thought. If indeed Oldbark had been driven hence from Laiquadol, how had Thranduil and his folk fared? The Onod commanded countless _Huorns_, indeed even the trees as well, and the Enyd themselves were powerful. If they had been worsted by this sorcerer or wraith, what had become of the Nandor? Surely they were now badly o'er matched. They had but their bows and their wits for defense, and after following her advice to march to war with the Last Alliance, that people were diminished and less fit to meet so potent an enemy. The dark Noldo held her breath and an icy fear grew in her heart for what tidings had come from Calenglad i'Dhaer.

"What hath been told of the Greenwood?" Beinvír asked, seeing her partner's silence and steeling herself for what Elrond might say.

"From Thranduil hast come tidings of a stirring of evil Men out of the east who hath made their homes in enclaves amidst the southern fastnesses of the forest. Some of them claim to hath fled wars in their homelands and do 'naught but hunt and farm and bother no one. Yet there art many others, of whom 'tis said that their numbers increase with each passing year, and these art quarrelsome and destructive and hardly better than Yrch. Then too there hast been noted an increase in the spiders and that they art more bold; yea, even so bold as to assail some of Thranduil's folk when they art wandering one alone or a few together poorly armed. The people of the wood say that they feel evil upon the breeze and sense it in the shadows 'neath the trees, and ever the more so the further south they go.

In these last years ever fewer of that folk chance their way south of the Men-i-Naugrim, and then only in companies well armed. Thither they go to trade with the settlers 'nigh Anduin to their west and also to meet the merchants journeying east through the forest to do business with those who live about the River Celduin, for these peddlers barter works of Khazad-dûm. These traders too hath grown fearful."

"Yet all this pales beside the doings of the sorcerer at Laiquadol," Galadriel said, "for he hast driven hence the Onodrim from their halls. What great sorcery he hast employed in this, we know not. Yet I see thither in my mind a dark tower upon the heights whereat I once restored the olvar while'st in thy company long ago, and I feel the Shadow emanating from it. Creatures and good Men and Elves flee from it and it reaches out with tendrils of fear 'neath the trees. By this do I reckon it to be one of the Úlairi, for such fear proceeds them and none but a few can'st resist it. Fewer still might fight it."

"This sorcerer we cannot see," Elrond told them, "nay, not with any sight. Neither hath any of Thranduil's people seen 'aught of him, and this too favors our suspicions."

And now Helluin clearly understood their call for her aid. Few enough even amongst the Amanyar could walk with safety in those darkening woods. And though none had said so, they all knew that fewer still might successfully resist should there be not one, but nine Shadows thither in the tower upon Laiquadol. Her jaw tightened with the gritting of her teeth. Indeed Helluin alone could walk into a den of Úlairi with impunity and challenge them in their lair; indeed she would relish that opportunity.

_Like a hound of the Valar shalt they loose me upon their foes,_ she thought,_ and thither shalt I go full-willing. 'Tis but by my failure in Orodruin aforetime that such hast come to pass. Ahh, Oldbark, I would beg thy forgiveness, my old friend, that my past conduct hast brought this darkness to thy realm._

"Thither shalt I go at the request of this council," said Helluin, "for to seek after the truth that lurks in yonder wood. If 'tis indeed one of the Úlairi, then with the Valar's blessing I shalt destroy him as I did not aforetime. If 'tis a mortal, then perhaps I shalt slay him too for his crimes upon my friends of old, the Onodrim."

At Helluin's words, Beinvír stared at her with an expression of horror, her mouth frozen in mid-protest. Rather than voice out loud her reservations before the company, she spoke in silence to her beloved.

_Thou go into great danger to assuage thy guilt for the outcome of thy combat aforetime. I fear for thee, meldanya, for what if 'tis indeed a great sorcerer and thou come'th under some enchantment, or art wounded by some fell weapon hitherto unseen, or art taken in some trap he hast devised. How can'st thou know he shalt not see thy coming? Then too wilt thou face as well the gathered Men of the East, mortal yes, but great in numbers and inflamed with hatred of our kind? Many should go with thee, my love,_ Beinvír said,_ even if 'tis thee alone who enters the tower._

_If many were to go, then with trumpets and heraldry they may as well proceed_, Helluin answered_. Nay, 'tis better that one alone should go in stealth. If 'tis indeed one of the Úlairi then I fear not. Indeed if 'tis all of the Úlairi, then still I do not fear. Rather should they fear me, and rather doth I expect they shalt flee me ere they fight. Yet such a quest is not without danger, thou speak true in this, but not for danger's sake can'st I remain idle. If danger there is now, then worse shalt it become if left to fester unchecked. Indeed the sooner the better ere we face a realm of evil long entrenched which hath called to itself many allies._

For some moments the Green Elf weighed Helluin's arguments in a growing state of unhappiness. Not for the first time had Helluin refuted her fears with strong reasoning.

_Thy points art well considered and I find I hate them every one,_ Beinvír said silently, _and I know thou hast made up thy mind to venture thither_._ I wish t'were not so. Yet if by stealth thou shalt go hence, then two can'st go in equal stealth. I shalt accompany thee upon thy quest this time, as I did not the last._

But Helluin again dissuaded her from that act as she had ere her invasion of Mordor, while'st as before begging her aid in an enterprise of lesser jeopardy.

_My love, into that danger I cannot take thee, for just as 'twas aforetime and for the same reasons, thou woulds't be liable to come to great harm. Such a pass I could not accept. Already hast thou come 'neath the Shadow and borne a wound from a mórgúl blade. Indeed I would level the whole of the forest to ash ere I chance thy life to the jeopardy of chance unneeded. Rather I would beseech thee, come with me to Calenglad i'Dhaer, to bring thither and hear such tidings as art timely to King Thranduil. Like thee he is Nandor, and of him thou may find still such welcome as I deserve not. To him I cannot go. Since the outcome of the war I feel I hath no right to welcome amongst that people, for by my counsel is Thranduil deprived of his adar and his people of their king. I pray thee, anamelda, accept this part in the efforts of this council._ Helluin looked into her lover's eyes, knowing she would be unsatisfied, but hoping that she would accept.

Beinvír fairly stamped her foot in frustration and clamped shut her jaw lest she speak ill in haste. Helluin held her breath. 'Twas some time ere she heaved a sigh and replied.

_Ever thou seek to protect me, _the Green Elf said at last, _and for that amidst so many things I hath come to love thee. Yet here again we art to be separated as thou go'st into peril, and I am left to worry for thee. Almost as bad is thy self-condemnation for the fortunes of battle that befell Oropher and his warriors. Yes, they went to war upon thy counsel, but they refused much of the benefits thou offered and fought more with pride than with tactics. This thou know well, and Thranduil too, whatever his love for his father might say. Aforetime he welcomed thee despite thy Noldor heritage. I am sure he holds thee blameless in his heart even now, for thou did all thou could on his folks' behalf ere the war. He is wise after his fashion and not likely to condemn thee wrongfully._

Much as Helluin wanted to believe her lover's words, she just couldn't absolve herself.

_My love, though forgive me he may in his wisdom, I deem that even the sight of me shalt renew the sorrow in his heart. I cannot do thus to him after all else. Nay, to Thranduil I shalt not go. But I beg thee again, meldanya, make thy way thither on behalf of this council. Hear what he hast learnt and tell him what we know. _

Now the Green Elf searched Helluin's eyes and thither did she perceive the Noldo's resolve. Helluin would go alone to Laiquadol whether she protested or no. Dissuading her was't as hopeless as aforetime when they'd stood upon the Ephel Duath, staring down into Mordor. Helluin would not be swayed from her purpose. At last Beinvír lowered her head and sadly nodded in agreement. She would go to King Thranduil. For her silent concession, Helluin leaned o'er and gently placed a relieved kiss upon her lover's lips.

"We leave for Rhovanion on the morrow," Helluin told the council. "I shalt investigate the Shadow upon Laiquadol. Make ready all such tidings as thou woulds't hath King Thranduil know and Beinvír shalt convey them thither."

_Helluin, _Elrond said silently, catching her eyes, _neither I nor any other here beseech thee to engage at this time such enemies as art thither. Rather we ask thee for confirmation only. If 'tis indeed as we suspect, then t'will be the gathered strength of many who shalt drive him hence. 'Tis not for thee alone to do thus, my friend._

Helluin nodded to acknowledge the _Peredhel's_ words, but they both knew that if fate begat the opportunity, she would fight. If an Úlairi showed itself, the Noldo would pursue and engage him. She would not waste the chance to finish what she had started a thousand years before.

The response of the others ranged from well-wishing to relief to modest guilt. They would send forth their hound to harry the Sorcerer of Greenwood. So ended the first Council of the Wise in that Age, unnamed, unrecorded, and unremembered by history. 'Twas 1 Narwain, (January 1st), TA 1002.

**To Be Continued**


	88. In An Age Before Chapter 88

**In An Age Before – Part 88

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**

**Chapter Fifty-six**

_**Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

_**Author's note: **Errata in the text of the previous installment. Helluin's statement to Beinvír that, _"…I would beseech thee, come with me to Calenglad i'Dhaer, to bring thither and hear such tidings as art timely to King Thranduil. Like thee he is Nandor, and of him thou may find still such welcome as I deserve not."_ In fact, Thranduil was't scion of a Sindarin family, but ruled a kingdom populated largely by Nandor. This is canon, and paralleled the rule of Lindórinand by the house of Amdír and Amroth. Earlier in this story I explained their presence on the eastern side of the Hithaeglir as part of an exodus of Sindar who chose not to abide in Eregion under the rule of the Noldor. _

Upon 12 Narwain, (January 12th), Helluin and Beinvír came down the Hithaeglir from the high pass, and thence into the Vale of Anduin did they make their way east. Thither the land was't familiar from long aforetime, yet not so familiar as the ways further south 'nigh Lórinand and Khazad-dûm. Upon the morning of the 14th they came to the ford crossing the river. Thither upon the eastern side they made their farewells, for thereafter Beinvír would take the Men-i-Naugrim leading into Calenglad i'Dhaer, while'st Helluin would continue downstream upon Anduin's eastern bank. Thus the Green Elf would, in three or four days' time, come to the Woodland Realm of King Thranduil 'nigh the Emyn Duir. Helluin's way was't longer. Well 'nigh seventy leagues stood 'twixt her and the hill of Laiquadol. She would follow much the same route that the Host of the Last Alliance had taken, passing south along the eaves of Greenwood for the span of a fortnight ere she turned east into the wood. Indeed she looked forward to this trek downriver, hoping to meet again some of the folk of Bartan and hear their tidings.

Now after a sorrowful leave-taking from Beinvír, Helluin began her journey southward, and though the land was't known to her, strange things did she discover thither. Upon the 16th she stood 'nigh an isle lying amid-stream in Anduin, some 50 miles south of the ford. That morn she had come to a homestead, with split-rail fencing encircling a cabin of logs and a large barn, so familiar to her from long aforetime and many leagues south. Such a place was't recognizable as an abode of the Men of Anduin, the descendants of Berlun and Grinda 'cross almost 4,300 years.

The air held the soft song of bees at a short distance, where their hives no doubt sat amongst the beds of flowering plants. As Helluin approached the fence a moment's melancholy gripped her, but she shook it off and called out a fair greeting from the gate.

"Hail, settlers. If thou art hither I would greet thee and hath converse with thee, for I am a wanderer out of Eregion and would hear tidings of the times as they now stand hither."

For what seemed a long time she stood in plain view waiting patiently to be answered. At last a robust Man, black-bearded and dark-eyed, and carrying a woodsman's axe at the ready made his way toward her from behind the cabin. Helluin had seen the roof of the barn thither in the yard from whence he came and reckoned that he had been tending his beasts when he heard her call. He approached her directly, looking her up and down carefully but without fear, and he spoke not 'till he stood close by on his own side of the gate. To Helluin's surprise he recognized her as a Noldo.

"Thou certainly appear to be a wanderer as thou say, and one of the Eldar too, I wager," he began, "and few enough of thy folk hath any of mine seen, though stories of thy kindred art told. Few enough in these days of late doth we see even of the woodland Elves." He shook his head as if saddened by this turn of events, then returned his attention to Helluin. "Pray tell then, dark Lady, what brings thee so far from thy home in these troubled times?"

"'Tis indeed the rumor of troubles that brings me hither," Helluin told him, "for it hast been told o'er the mountains of a growing darkness in the wood." Here she canted her head, indicating the eaves of Greenwood that stood a half-mile to their east. The Man nodded in understanding and agreement.

"I should invite thee to my cabin," he said, resting his axe upon the ground and leaning on it as he relaxed somewhat, "for there is indeed 'aught to tell that should be known."

After another sigh he unclasped the gate and swung it open for Helluin to pass, and as she entered, he lifted his axe and gripped it well up the shaft so the head balanced the handle. 'Twas a mark of trust that he held it no longer ready for use.

"Know thou 'aught of one amongst thy folk named Bartan?" Helluin asked as she passed. "He lived somewhat to the north and some 800 years ago," she said as she walked to the cabin with him. The Man's eyes widened at her mention of that name, and a smile curved his lips.

"How know'th thou of Bartan?" the Man asked in surprise, "for he was't an ancestor of my family, or so claimed my grandfather, Barlan. Barlan lived to the north and 'cross the river 'till his passing many years ago. Indeed he had a story of thy folk to tell; a story I heard retold oft enough in my early years."

Helluin nodded to this. The Man whom she and Beinvír had met in the Hithaeglir ere Beinvir's wounding by the Yrch was't a forefather of this Man.

"In the 109th year of this Age did I and my beloved join Bartan in the rescue of some folk of Khazad-dûm. Into a deep lair of the Yrch did we go to free them, and this we accomplished, though my beloved was't wounded in the fighting. Thereafter she was't healed and hast survived. I hath fair memories of thy ancestor and his courage."

To this the Man nodded and was't for a moment misty-eyed as his memories of a childhood story, a semi-legend of 'ancient times' was't recalled and given credence by Helluin's testimony.

"I am Barlun," he said, "and what is thy name, pray tell?"

"My name is Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, once an explorer of the Host of Finwe."

Barlun looked at her carefully then and seemed to recognize something about her.

"I mark now thy weapons more clear, and in particular thy Ring blade, and indeed it figured in the story of Bartan that I hath heard. Yet too I now mark the blue of thine eyes, and thence comes to mind yet another tale, though 'tis one regarded as but a myth amongst my folk for its ancientry.

'Tis said that 'nigh the dawn of my people, an Elda with flaming blue eyes brought together again our folk with the folk of the mountains, the Gonnhirrim, whom we had known in our very beginning, yet from whom we had become estranged. She was't a fearsome ally to both our houses, and since that time our two kindreds hath stood beside one another in times of peril. Long ago, when the Masters of Stone went south to the Great War, our folk guarded the lands 'nigh their realm in the years of their absence. In token of the alliance she rekindled, we hath been steadfast in our friendship with the folk of Khazad-dûm who were her friends as well."

Barlun's words brought a lump to Helluin's throat. He could only be referring to the sortie she had arranged with Berlun's people and Narin, Captain of Hadhodrond, against the den of Yrch in the Hithaeglir, in SA 151. Berlun had been her first friend amongst the settlers, whom she had met as he was't defending his home against a marauding company of Glam. It had been only shortly after her first stay in Khazad-dûm and the forging of her armor by Gneiss son of Gnoss. That the friendship renewed by her actions then had persisted down to the present despite the mortality of those kindreds and the passage of time was't a thing Helluin found dear to her heart. She had to swallow ere she spoke again.

"Thou know'th, Barlun, that the Life of the Eldar proceeds from Age to Age unbroken, and yet a strange thing still it may seem when I tell thee that 'twas indeed I of whom thy mythology speaks," Helluin said. Barlun's eyes grew wide as she continued. "'Twas well 'nigh 4,300 years ago when I came to the aid of one of thy kindred, Berlun, who stood alone in defense of his homestead against companies of the Glam. In that time too did I arrange with my friend, Narin of Khazad-dûm, to join in the extermination of those Glam. I myself was't but recently come from the great mansions of the Gonnhirrim, wherein I had dwelt for twenty years and whither my armor was't forged. Much later this Ring was't forged in their smithies as well." Helluin sighed and stifled her intruding memories of Berlun and Narvi and Celebrimbor. All were lost in the depths of time. To focus herself in the present she spoke of the present. "Barlun, I am glad that thy folk hath maintained league of friendship with the Gonnhirrim to this day. Many hath been the times since when it hast been well to count friends amongst those of other kindreds for alliance in the mutual defense."

They had reached the cabin door and Barlun opened it and ushered Helluin inside. 'Twas so much alike to the home of Berlun so long ago that she half expected to find Grinda scolding Falla and Brekun for filching berries from the kitchen. Instead the single room was't silent and a fire burnt down to embers lay upon the grate in the hearth. This Barlun fed a few faggots and coaxed back to flame while'st gesturing Helluin to a chair. He then went to the corner kitchen and filled two mugs with cider ere he returned and took the other seat facing her. Now when they had settled he began to share his tidings, and while'st some of these Helluin had expected, others took her wholly by surprise.

"Thou hast mentioned hearing in Eriador somewhat of the troubles that hath befallen in Greenwood of late," Barlun began, "and indeed it seems the days darken more with each passing year. 'Neath the trees hath come an ever increasing tide of Easterlings, and many of these art ill-favored and ill-willed. They art mostly away in the southern parts of the forest as yet, though I hath heard they trouble even the folk of the Elven King to the north."

Helluin nodded at this; 'twas indeed much as she had heard tell of in Imladris. After taking a swig from his mug, Barlun continued.

"Unwelcome as these Easterners art, they art as the leaves upon a bough in the growth of evil that hath come hither," he said. "The root of that evil lies upon a barren height to the south; the Elves of the wood say a Shadow hast grown thither, yet none amongst them hath seen it."

Again Helluin nodded, though her eyes were focused now more closely upon the Man and she harkened more attentively to his rede.

"I believe their tales of a Shadow," Barlun said. "Fewer art the animals that come hence from 'neath the trees to drink at the river of late. The leaves themselves seem more oft to sough in sorrow, and in these last few years they hath fallen the sooner in autumn and opened the later in spring. But most telling of all was't the tale of the_ Periannath_**¹**."

**¹**(**Periannath, _Halflings,_** (coll. pl.) Sindarin)

Helluin raised an eyebrow in question. Barlun had lost her with his last sentence. Yet he failed to notice her expression for his eyes were turned inward, so focused was't he upon his tale, and so he continued with the troubling tidings that this unknown folk had spoken.

"They hath told of the night march of the Enyd from the forest," he offered.

Now Helluin sucked in a breath, for here was't a tale that bore close to her heart.

"Say thou that the Onodrim hath been driven from Calenglad indeed?" she asked.

"Aye. 'Tis so, and but five autumn's past," Barlun said in a low voice, as if such fell tidings demanded that they be told in a whisper. "'Just past nightfall in the year 996, so the Periannath say, a great rushing, as of a storm wind suddenly unleashed, shook the forest, bough and bole. From their hamlet they saw tall forms marching from the eves of the wood. Then these figures called with great voices, and they were followed hence by many others. Indeed they claim 'twas as if the wood itself had taken flight. To the south these creatures went in a great dark mass, cloaked in shadows, and heralded by the sound of rushing wind and a trembling in the earth."

Barlun's eyes were wide, fixed, and staring into her own as though he saw before him that of which he spoke, and he leaned forward in his chair. Helluin felt both fear and excitement radiating from him. It struck her that 'twas the first time she had ever felt fear in one of his people.

"'Twas some ways off to the south that this came to pass, and yet the tale grows worse. The Periannath claim they saw a darkness creeping upon the ground, washing in an out amongst the trees like a floodtide of black blood or a ground-hugging smoke. An unwholesome chill came upon their hearts at the sight of it and they fled. The fear still lingers amongst them even after they removed to the river banks and made their way further north. They would not stay 'nigh the place this happened. Indeed none of that folk will venture 'nigh the forest now for any need. Many hath crossed the river of late, for they say they hath kith 'cross Anduin, in the foothills 'nigh Khazad-dûm."

Now Helluin could well imagine of what Barlun had told; the Onodrim driven by some dark sorcery from their forest, their _Huorns_ fleeing with them. He had said they'd made their way south and it took her little time to guess that they'd headed for Fangorn, wherein she had met others of their kind. The creeping darkness that had chased the Guardians of the Trees was't a potent and fell magick indeed. Whether or not the Úlairi could conjure such a _mórgúl_, she knew not from past experience. Yet she had no doubt that such was't within the capabilities of their master and perhaps such powers he had granted them as well. Though these tidings were known in the west, she had one major question that bore heavily on her willingness to believe the tale; who were thesePeriannath?

"Barlun, I pray thee, who art these folk of whom thou speak? They art unknown to me for all my years of wandering. I hath seen this land upon the Westward March and in two Ages of the Sun, and none called the Periannath hath I met aforetime. Art they new-come out of the east? Art they some victims of the dark arts? I would know this, for the telling to others who art afar."

Barlun looked carefully at Helluin. That one so ancient knew not the folk of the Halflings seemed odd to him, and yet they were easily passed by; a small people, few, quiet, and ever keeping to themselves. His own folk had known them long, (or so it seemed to them), but they had figured little in any of their lore. Indeed they were much as any other creatures who altered not the doings of their times, but instead passed through them deedless and without renown.

"Perhaps 'tis a question best answered by experience," Barlun said at last. "If thy errand can'st wait two days I shalt bring thee amongst them and thou can'st form thy own opinions. As I said, they hath removed somewhat north. Fifteen leagues upriver is their hamlet now, and I deem thou hast already passed them by aforetime."

Now Helluin had not sought after any save the settlers while'st making her way south, and she had felt no presences unexplained. She had long been keen of senses, but all she had marked while'st coming downriver was't the relative emptiness of the land. Therefore Barlun's words surprised her and she resolved that she must come to know of this people, for like the Laiquendi to the west, she had sensed them not in her passing.

"I deem t'would be well that I come amongst them indeed, Barlun," Helluin said, "for any endowed with such stealth, I wager, t'would be wise to know. Indeed my errand can wait on the time, and if thou art willing, then to the Periannath we shalt go."

"Art thou willing to travel at night?" Barlun asked.

Helluin nodded 'yes'.

"Then at dusk we shalt make our way north, for t'would be best to sup ere we leave and fewer eyes shalt mark our going in the darkness. Thence we should come to them in the daylight on the morrow."

That eve after supper the two took their way north along the river, and Helluin retraced her steps of the days before. The next morning they came almost to the ford and the Men-i-Naugrim, whereat she had parted from Beinvír, ere Barlun turned down what Helluin took for a game trail but five miles shy of that place. Thither the bank was't hidden from sight behind a low, wooded hill, and their trail led 'round the northern slope and thence again west towards Anduin. Helluin thought there could be but little land 'twixt the path and the water in which to settle a hamlet.

When they came at last to the western side of the hill, Helluin stopped in her tracks. Hidden from all passing sight was't a collection of small homes hastily built upon either side of a street no wider than a footpath. The houses were of wood and low-slung, all of a single story, with their roofs sloped but little and covered o'er with sods. They inclined somewhat towards the river so that, save for a very watchful eye, one passing downstream would see 'naught but what appeared to be piles of dirt o'ergrown with coarse grass and saplings. As well, she marked that many of the sidewalls had been heaped with earth so that, save for the fronts facing the 'street', wherein the front doors and perhaps a window were set, even less evidence of building could be seen. She shook her head in amazement; 'twas an admirable example of camouflage. Another thing she noted about the settlement was't its quiet. She heard no sounds of work or play carrying upon the air.

Now Helluin followed Barlun to the 'center' of the town and they stood upon the 'path', or main street. After a few moments of searching about, Barlun called out a greeting, but pitched his voice lower than one would when coming to a place of Elves, Dwarves, or Men. Whereas he had spoken Sindarin with Helluin up to this point, in hailing the F'liderim, he spoke mostly the Common Tongue with a few words of Sindarin mixed in.

"Hallo, ye F'liderim. We art Barlun and Helluin. Ye know me. Welcome us. We come in peace."

_F'liderim,_ Helluin asked herself. The houses were certainly diminutive, but in all her travels she had never heard of any Halfling folk. Of course, F'liderim was't no more familiar than Periannath. Helluin searched their surroundings for any answer to his hail. For long moments nothing moved, nor did any sound come forth to greet them. Only the soft murmuring of Anduin did they hear, and the distant calls of ducks in some riverside pool upstream.

"Come now," Barlun said to the silent houses, "will ye leave guests unmet?"

**To Be Continued**


	89. In An Age Before Chapter 89

**In An Age Before – Part 89

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'Twas a few moments more ere a figure appeared from a doorway ahead of them. Helluin stared. The person was't no taller than waist high to her, of average thickness and proportions, and having a head of pale brown and somewhat wildly curled hair. He was't dressed in a rough shirt and trousers, but wore no shoes, and Helluin noted a subtle enlargement of his feet, (as compared to a Man or Elf of his stature). She also noted that those feet were rather hirsute. While'st she had been staring at this first figure several others had hesitantly dared to show themselves, and now these timidly came forward towards them. Soon there were about two dozens all told, some male, some female, but all recognizably of a type. Helluin's eyes flickered o'er them while'st she sought to hide her amazement and subdue her gawking. In contrast, the little folk had no compunctions about blatantly staring at her. They pointed and commented amongst themselves in suspicious tones.

Now when the first figure came 'nigh he offered Barlun a sweeping bow and then examined Helluin with obvious curiosity. To his eyes she was't an outlandish figure, wholly alien. Aside from her height, 'twas her black armor, the longsword at her side, and the bright Sarchram, all peeking from 'neath her travel cloak. He regarded her steadily with head cocked and brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"I say, Barlun," he said in the Common Tongue, though with a slow and rustic accent, "of what sort be yer friend? Neither Man nor Dwarf, I reckon. Be she out of the Shadow in the forest? Be she from downriver to the south?" He looked up at Barlun with some familiarity. 'Twas obvious to Helluin that the two were acquainted.

"This be Helluin," Barlun said, nodding to her, "an Elf of the west."

Barlun then looked to Helluin and introduced their host.

"Helluin, this be Bobo Fallohide, mayor of Furrylong."

Helluin inclined her head to the little figure who regarded her still with curiosity.

"Welcome to the Fur'long, Elf Helluin," the mayor said graciously, and with evident pride. "We farm the finest mushrooms and potatoes on this bank of the river."

Helluin fought not to roll her eyes. Despite its name, the hamlet was't not even a furlong in length, and a meaner collection of hovels she had not set eyes on in Ages. Beside her Barlun coughed, and she realized he was't stifling a snicker. Ere any embarrassment could ensue, Helluin spoke.

"I greet ye, Mayor Fallohide," she said, offering him a nod, "and I thank ye for yer welcome."

"Where to the west do ye come from, Elf Helluin?" Bobo asked, having given in to his curiosity. "The far bank? The mountain slopes?"

"I come from o'er the mountains, from a green land…" ere she could continue, the mayor interrupted her.

"Bah! The world ends at the mountains. It's always ended at the mountains. We all know that." He regarded her with frank disbelief and a shade of pity.

Helluin was't shocked to wide-eyed silence. Beside her, Barlun gritted his teeth to keep from guffawing. To him, her expression was't no less humorous than Bobo's assertions. His folk at least believed the tales of their allies, the Naugrim, which recounted the lands upon the western side of the mountains whereat the Ennyn Durin opened forth into what had been Eregion ere its destruction. Finally Helluin mastered herself and tried again.

"I assure ye most sincerely, 'tis now and hast long been a wide and fertile land beyond the mountains."

The little mayor regarded her skeptically before shrugging and humoring her with a nod, for now he deemed her feeble-witted and deluded.

"If ye say so, though none I know tell of it. I should ask ye, how can a land be green and fertile when the sun crashes down the mountains' far side each eve? Common sense tells that such a land would be burnt to cinders long ago**¹**." He looked at her as if well pleased with his own reasoning, while'st daring her to supply a believable response. **¹**(Now it has't been said that of old the Halflings learnt somewhat of the world from the Dark Elves they encountered in the east, and this might well hath been the case, but such would hath been as the blind leading the blind, for n'er had the Avari gone o'er Hithaeglir. Being no explorers themselves and lacking in curiosity about the world, the _Periannath's _geographical lore would hath become circumscribed in scale o'er time, with much lost in the retelling, until such tales as they'd once learnt of Anor's daily travels came to begin east of Greenwood and end west of the Hithaeglir…hence Bobo's version of geography, for stilted as it was't, it served the purposes of his folk well enough.)

"The sun continues upon its way o'er that land as it doth o'er this land, I assure ye," Helluin claimed. "It hast ever done so."

At this the mayor chuckled and said to Barlun, "I fear yer guest be sadly addled, Barlun. Have ye ever been o'er the mountains?"

Barlun admitted that 'no' he had not, nor had any of his people that he knew of. He shook his head at this ludicrous impasse, then gestured for Bobo to follow him out of Helluin's earshot. The two walked some distance towards the river together, talking in an animated fashion with many hand gestures as they oft pointed to the distant Hithaeglir. Helluin sighed and waited, sweeping her eyes o'er the other Fallohides. They, in turn, regarded her with sympathetic and pitying expressions.

Now just ere Helluin decided to take her leave, concluding that enough was't enough and no tidings of that folk were to be believed, Barlun and the mayor returned, both somber and quiet. Helluin raised a questioning brow to the Man and he merely shrugged, then cast his glance upon the mayor. The little mayor sighed theatrically, but hitched up his pants and looked at Helluin when he spoke.

"By the oath of my friend Barlun, I be persuaded to accept this yarn ye cling to," he said, "for knowing none who've journeyed o'er the mountains, I can truthfully prove neither yea nor nay that the world ends with them, despite common sense and our beliefs. Apparently his folk hear the same tale from the Dwarves…" He shrugged.

Helluin nodded, graciously accepting his ceding of the point.

"Perhaps someday ye will journey there, and if so, then ye will find a fruitful land of peace awaiting. I'm sure ye could coax many fine mushrooms and potatoes from the soil of Eriador."

The mayor grunted as if her praise were self-evident, while'st many of the other Fallohides nodded and muttered in agreement. Bobo then swallowed and reluctantly gestured for the Man and the Elf to follow him down the 'main street'. Helluin and Barlun trailed after the little figure as he led them out of the hamlet and to a shady spot 'nigh the river bank where they could speak alone. Now only when they were seated did he begin.

"Barlun tells me ye would hear of the _Night of Terrors_ from which we fled," he said to Helluin. "He also tells me ye travel widely…even into the forest."

"I would hear ye tale indeed," said Helluin, greatly encouraged by Bobo's willingness to speak. She gave Barlun a nod and a smile of thanks for arranging with his friend for her to hear his tidings. Bobo nodded, understanding that what he had to tell was't surely the greatest and most horrifying news to be heard in any Age.

"We be a little people who till the land, seeking only peace and to be left alone. Until the evil came to pass, we lived far to the south where our ancestors had settled."

Now Helluin rolled her eyes; the Periannathwere indeed a little people, especially if 45 leagues downriver qualified as 'far to the south'. Nevertheless, she held her peace and listened to the mayor's rede.

"In the night four years and 145 days ago**¹**, we heard noises in the forest. We ran from our homes to see. From the forest came wind and trampling. We froze in fear; the noise came closer; many fled to the river. Then we saw trees moving! At the eaves they turned back and called with loud voices, but no words. A greater crowd of trees joined them. They seemed in haste and fear. We watched them go away downstream. Then came a black fog or smoke, I know not which, low on the ground. It stopped just past the eaves and lay darker than the shadows. I smelt no smoke nor saw flame, but I swear my blood chilled at the sight of it. Then it swirled and returned into the forest. Soon all lay quiet again. We fled here, far to the north." **¹**(This date would hath been on or about 1 Cerveth, or July 1st , TA 997, for 'twas now 20 Narwain, or January 20th TA 1002)

Helluin nodded sadly. 'Twas the least descriptive, and in fact the most pedestrian report of a great event that she had ever heard. Even a drunken Dunlander would hath told it fairer. This little fellow would certainly be composing no tales for bards or lays for minstrels. Indeed she almost felt embarrassed for Bobo, for so literal and unembellished was't his account as to trivialize its import. Had she heard it from another she would hath discounted it as but a fairy story from his childhood, half-remembered and half-heartedly recalled, yet Bobo's eyes were now wide and fixed and glazed with terror at the memory. She saw that he was't shaking, as if chilled from an unforeseen dip into an icy lake at the hands of an untrustworthy boat. Helluin realized that such fear in one so very mundane of nature lent credence rather than doubt to the story. Gently she reached out and laid a hand upon his shoulder, and thence she projected somewhat of her comfort to sooth the terrified _Perian_**¹**. Soon enough his shuddering ceased. He felt a stirring of peace, and even odder still, a nugget of courage was't a-kindled in his heart. Bobo looked upon Helluin with thanks and wonder at the effect. **¹**(**Perian, _Halfling,_** (sing.) Sindarin)

"Ye fear rightly and ye were right too to flee," she told him. "Those driven out were mighty amongst their kind."

Bobo nodded in wholehearted agreement. He understood well 'nigh nothing of the true importance of his tidings, nor did he want to understand them. He was't a simple farmer only, and saddled with the office of mayor for having drawn the shortest stick at the last Yule. Yet as mayor, he also felt responsible for his people. Despite her strange beliefs about the mountains, it couldn't hurt to ask her opinion of their current situation.

"Do ye think we be safe in this place? Do you think the trouble be past?" He asked.

"Nay and nay," Helluin said with certainty. The mayor looked as if he would shiver out of his skin when he heard her answer, as a renewed attack of trembling shook his frame. "Ye saw but the hint of a greater ill than any in this Age, I wager," Helluin mused while'st shaking her head, "and as I suspected, I must take a careful look into the forest."

At this, Bobo's eyes nearly started from his head. The times were bad and soon to get worse. With this in mind, any option bore investigation for the desperate times ahead.

"Before ye go to yer death, pray tell us how to cross the mountains," he asked.

Helluin looked at him in surprise, but proceeded to tell him of the northern pass that led down to Imladris, judging the Pass of Caradhras too rigorous and the way south of the Hithaeglir too far. She deemed him a well 'nigh inarticulate sod, but a practical one if 'naught else.

For his part, Bobo absorbed Helluin's words, asked a few more questions, and sadly shook his head. The way she described was't a migration so long that t'would take a dozen generations of his folk to make the journey.

Now when Helluin and Barlun took their leave of Bobo and the Periannath, Helluin thanked the Man effusively, for by his efforts she had confirmation of the flight of the Onodrim and had discovered a new folk, though they seemed to be of little account. Still, she knew that Elrond at least would receive her tidings with interest.

The two retraced their steps southwards 'till they came 'nigh Barlun's homestead, and thither they parted company with words of friendship. 'Twas 18 Narwain.

**To Be Continued**


	90. In An Age Before Chapter 90

**In An Age Before – Part 90****

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**

Now after leaving Barlun Helluin made her way another twenty leagues south, 'till she came 'nigh the _Loeg Ningloron,_ (the Gladden Fields), that lay about the mouth of the River Gladden, the _Ninglor _(water lily) in Sindarin, upon the further bank of Anduin. 'Cross the water she stood, shading her eyes against the rays of the westering sun, and surveying the scene of Isildur's doom. Thither waved the bright heads of many yellow irises, shifting placidly in the gentle, late afternoon breeze flowing off the water. The acuity of Helluin's Elven sight revealed the brightly colored fire-flashes of reflections from the iridescent bodies of dragonflies, some well 'nigh the length of her hand, as they flitted and hovered amongst the tall stems of the flowers. Thereabouts all seemed at peace. 'Twas idyllic and highly deceptive, she thought, for a great doom lay hidden thither. Somewhere 'neath the water, 'twixt yonder bank and where she stood, lay Sauron's Ring, sunken, tumbled, and buried with King Isildur's bones in the river bottom's sediment, no doubt. She shook her head. Not knowing the Ring's whereabouts was't well 'nigh as bad as knowing.

_Alas for all folk that 'twas not destroyed when we had the chance,_ she thought for the many-thousandth time, _for now 'twill instead destroy any who might be touched by its power…all save he who made it. He I would destroy as surely as his Ring. _Finally with a sigh she turned again upon her way south.

Now the eves of Calenglad drew away from the banks of the river and Helluin saw that they were far more distant from the shore than in times past. Indeed Oldbark's impression of long aforetime was't proved true…that the forest was't shrinking. Twenty leagues south of the Gladden Fields, the verge of the forest lay so far inland that 'twas not to be seen from the banks. Helluin continued upon her way, noting a few homesteads of Men of Barlun's kindred, but as she came another ten leagues even these disappeared. On the eastern bank of Anduin none now dwelt.

Upon 2 Nínui, (February 2nd), did Helluin espy the canopy of golden mellyrn that identified the realm of King Amroth, lying ahead and to her west 'cross the river. By this she knew that she had come far enough south and must now turn east toward Laiquadol, which of late had come to be called _Amon Lanc_, the Bald Hill. Thither, according to the Council of Imladris, lay the fortress and tower of the sorcerer, and the heart of the spreading Shadow. Helluin took upon her the stealth of the Laiquendi and moved unseen by beast and bird, carefully covering the first twelve leagues inland in two days. On the evening of the 4th she camped 'neath the most outlying boughs of Calenglad.

About her all now lay silent. No sound of birdsong came to her ears and no sight of any creature did she mark. The verge of the wood was't as a wasteland to life. In the darkness a chill settled o'er her heart, but she saw no evidence of Easterling or Orch or wraith. Above her the leaves shuddered though 'twas no breeze to be felt. The air was't still and heavy as 'tis ere a storm breaks, but too the watchfulness of times past was't not to be felt. No _Huorns_ stood sentry now. Helluin passed a rest-less night, marking the passing hours by Ithil's travel and the wheeling of the stars. When the first rumor of dawn's ruddy light opened in the east, she ventured forth, passing silently into the forest.

During that day Helluin continued on, knowing that Laiquadol stood some 75 miles from Anduin's eastern bank. In the past that journey had been the matter of three days, but upon this trip Helluin moved with full stealth, expecting her way to take five days instead. Had one stood still and watched the forest, no trace of her figure would they hath marked, moving from shadow to shadow and from bole to bole.

Within the forest Helluin saw that the once familiar wood had fallen 'neath a blight of the spirit. No longer was't there a feeling of vibrancy, of living, or of joy in growing. A Shadow indeed had fallen upon Calenglad. Absent now was't the birdsong, the soft tread of rabbit or fox amidst the leafmould, and the chatter of squirrels. O'erhead hung leaves that draped all, not in the joyous green of the olvar striving for Anor's rays, but rather in a greyed shroud well 'nigh funereal in its solemnity. Elm and oak, poplar and beech, all held their foliage in a listless droop, deigning not even to tremble, but rather reflecting a visceral despair that beat upon Helluin's _fëa_ like an endlessly repeated dirge. 'Twas interminably dismal and thereby wrought an underlying nausea upon her. Had she heard 'naught aforetime of any evil in that wood, still she would hath soon silenced her tread and advanced with stealth expecting worse. During her second night in the forest she choose to pass the hours of darkness six fathoms above the ground, in a hastily woven talan high in a tall poplar, from which no branch grew less than twenty feet up the trunk.

Late in the morning upon her second day afoot in Calenglad, Helluin came to that rock outcropping whereat she had been assailed by earthworms in SA 1375, while'st in the company of Beinvír, Galadriel and Celeborn. Thither she paused for a rest and a drink. As she sat hunkered down amongst the shadows of the boulders, a foul scent came to her nostrils and the earth trembled at the rumor of something of great weight moving with difficulty. Helluin raised her head so that the top of her hood rose just high enough that her keen, blue eyes could survey the surrounding forest. She peered into the broken light and shadow, seeking for any movement. 'Twas long that she waited thus, unmoving, ere her patience was't rewarded by the sight of a broken and rotted trunk tipping and recovering in a succession of barely controlled falls that could not rightly be called a gait.

Now the figure was't tree-like, but ruin of disease had wrought heavily upon it so that it staggered in her general direction like a thirst-delirious and dying man crossing a desert. Helluin's eyes widened in astonishment and she almost broke cover to hasten forward with aid, yet at the last moment she forced herself to remain still. She had not forgotten the appearance of Sauron in the form of an Onod, long aforetime in Fangorn forest. So Helluin kept her place amidst the outcropping for another ten minutes as the 'tree' approached. Finally, at a distance of some five fathoms, it gave a last lurch and collapsed.

When it did 'naught but feebly twitch a few twigs for 'nigh on another quarter hour, Helluin slowly rose and slipped from shadow to shadow, approaching warily. By the time she drew 'nigh, Helluin was't sure no others lurked thereabouts. Thither the stench of rotting vegetation lay heavily, indeed almost as a syrup spreading 'cross the ground, 'til it came to her nostrils thick as the fetid airs in the dungeons of the Barad-dúr. Thither too the rumor of pestilence wafted fell tendrils that carried invisible jeopardy to any of mortal blood. For Helluin, Amanya and Calaquende, 'twas less a danger than a measure of the putrefaction hosted by the fallen.

Now she stood beside the fallen Onod, for she had since discerned the truth of its kind, and she saw that some life lingered still in its tortured form. By the remnants of shivered bark that clung to the scarred and fungus encrusted body at her feet, she deemed its kind akin to the mighty poplar or tulip tree. She knelt and spoke softly to it.

"Who art thou and how hath thou come to such a mortal pass?" She asked in Sindarin.

The Onod heaved a pained sigh of fetid air and the lid of one eye fluttered open to half-mast. Helluin marked the hazy sphere that bespoke near-blindness, for the eye fixed upon her and so she deemed 'twas not yet wholly deprived of sight. With great effort the Onod replied in a voice both rough and weak, but thankfully, in the tongue of the Grey Elves rather than the _Enyd lamb_.

"I am called _Lasuirí_**¹.** Woe is me, for I hath been o'ertaken by the Black Breath." Here he choked and coughed up a haze of dark spores and a drool of reeking fluid, yellowish and viscid, ere he recovered and continued. "I hath but followed the ruin of my herds, achieving 'naught against the Sorcerer of_ Dól Gúldúr_**²**," he said.

**¹**(**Lasuirí _Leafy Crown_ _las_**(leaf) + **_-ui_** (n on adj suff, _-ful, -y_) + **_rí_**(crown) Sindarin) **²**(**Dól Gúldúr, _Hill of Black Sorcery, _****_dól_**(head, hill) + **_gúl_**(magic, sorcery) + **_dúr_**(dark) Sindarin)

Helluin gasped at his stench as much as his news. All of Bobo the Mayor's tidings had been proved in Lasuirí's few tortured words. But worse yet had Helluin marked in Leafy Crown's rede. The Black Breath was't a potent weapon based upon dark sorcery and few amongst the enemy could wield such a threat. Save the Nazgûl and Sauron himself, a lesser foe could inflict such a spell only by wounding with an enchanted weapon. The likelihood of a Ringwraith's presence in the tower upon Laiquadol, which Lasuirí had called Dól Gúldúr, was't well 'nigh assured.

"Know thou 'aught of this Sorcerer?" Helluin urgently asked.

"Nay. Neither I nor any other hast seen him. Ever Shadows wreath him. Only his plagues and clinging fires and a blanketing fear hath we marked, yet they hath been our ruin. Alas that I fled not as Oldbark commanded."

The Onod's voice broke with his last words and his form was't wracked with hitching that Helluin was't sure equaled sobbing amongst the kelvar. She laid a comforting hand upon his scarred side, pitying him deeply. Ere she could ask 'aught else of him, he seemed to stiffen and his eye fluttered closed. A final soft outrushing of spore-laden breath signaled his end, leaving Helluin enveloped in the foulest air yet. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and rose slowly to her feet.

At first the Onod lay with the absolute stillness of death, yet soon enough a change came upon his corpse. With accelerating celerity his form began to collapse in upon itself, the decay of decades passing in moments, 'till 'naught but a pile of moldering humus lay at Helluin's feet. The Onod's body had been commended to reabsorption into the soil of his beloved Greenwood.

"Go thou now thither 'cross the Sea and be received unto thy eternal rest. May Yavanna sooth thee with her blessing," Helluin whispered ere she slipped away to the east as silently as she had come.

Though she could now report the Council's suspicions confirmed, she still felt that more awaited her in Calenglad i'Dhaer, for though Elrond had told her that she had come on the Council's behalf only to scout and not to fight, the darkening of the Greenwood and presence of evil therein drew her forward.

**To be Continued**

4


	91. In An Age Before Chapter 91

**In An Age Before – Part 91

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**

**Chapter Fifty-seven**

_**Calenglad i'Dhaer – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now while'st Helluin was't watching Bobo recount the sorcery of Dól Gúldúr, 55 leagues to the northeast, Beinvír had come before King Thranduil. She had walked the Men-i-Naugrim after parting from her beloved, and upon the fourth day of her journey, had met a company of the Nandor of Calenglad. These received her warily at first, but soon warmed to her and accommodated her desire by conveying her to their king. She came before him in the same grotto in the foothills of the Emyn Duir whereat she and Helluin had brought dark tidings to old King Oropher ere the War of the Alliance.

Beinvír approached the same carved throne 'neath the same great oak, but now 'twas Thranduil who sat thither rather than in the chair to its right. She marked that the Heir's seat was't unoccupied. When she had come 'nigh to a fathom and a half she bowed deeply, and just as his father had, Thranduil stood and offered his greeting.

"_Mae govannen, Beinvír Laiquende. Non meren govannad cin ad. Gara nant ennin limb. Garech nant mae?_**¹**_"_

**¹**(**Mae govannen, Beinvír Laiquende. Non meren govannad cin ad. Gara nant ennin limb. Garech nant mae?_ Well met, Beinvír Laiquende. I am glad to meet you again. It has been many years. Have you been well?_ _Mae_**(well) +**_ govannen_**(met)**_, Beinvír_**(Fair Treasure) +**_ Laiquende_**(Green Elf)**_. No-_**(be, am)+ **_-n_**(subj pro suff, _I_) + **_meren_**(joyous) + **_govanno-_**(meet) + **_-ad_**(inf suff, _to_) + **_cin_**(dir obj pro,_ you_) +**_ ad-_**(again). **_Gar(o-)_**(have) + **_-a_**(3rd per pres ending, _it_) + **_n(o-)_**(be) + **_–ant_**(past v ending) + **_ennin _**(periods of 144 years) +**_ limb_**(many). **_Garo-_**(have) +**_ -(e)ch_**(2nd pers subj suff, _you_) + **_n(o-)_**(be) + **_–ant_**(past v ending) + **_mae_**(well)? Sindarin)

"I am well, O King," Beinvír replied, "and great is my thanks for thy welcome. Indeed many years hath passed since last we met. I hope thou hast found a measure of peace in the days since."

Thranduil nodded. Despite the clarity of his memory, the passing of time had been a balm to his heartbreak. He and his people had suffered greatly since his last meeting with the Green Elf, but he had continued to abide in Middle Earth. Yet of late, things had not been so fair 'neath the trees.

"As thou say, peace in some measure hath been gifted unto me since those dark days of yore. Yet now it seems a Shadow renewed hast taken refuge hither to the detriment of all. The Enyd hath taken their leave, thou know'st, and many of evil mien hath made hither their homes. Yet worst, all hath heard tell of the coming of the Sorcerer to the south. He hast driven hence Lord Oldbark from his home and usurped the same for the building of his tower."

"These things hath been suspected yon Hithaeglir, O King," Beinvír said, "and for the sharing of the tidings of such things hath I come hither to thee on behalf of Elrond _Peredhel_ and the Council of Imladris. I should say also that my _meldwain_, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, seeks tidings of this Sorcerer in the south. Even now she makes her way hence to scout out _Amon Galen_**¹**."

**¹**(**Amon Galen, _Green Hill, _****_amon_**(hill or head) + **_galen_**(green) Sindarin translation of the Quenya name, Laiquadol)

King Thranduil and many who stood 'nigh blanched at her news and a background of muttering was't heard. In the days since the coming of the Sorcerer, none had ventured 'nigh Amon Galen, which they now called Amon Lanc, for fear of the creeping terror that dwelt thither. The king silenced the murmuring of his courtiers with a sharp glance.

"My friend of old, if 'tis true as thou say, and Helluin hast indeed gone thither, then greatly I doth fear for her. Shadow and terror fill those woods and even the name of that place hast been changed. None speak now of the Green Head, but rather of _Amon Lanc_, the Bald Hill. Thither dwell'th darkness and malice in such measure as it were from another Age gone by. Might none change her counsels?"

The Green Elf sighed. She had tried to do just that. Thranduil saw the look in her eyes and gave the ghost of a nod in understanding. Having made up her mind, little in this world could cause the Noldo to gainsay it.

"I shalt offer a prayer to the One for her safety," he offered.

Beinvír accepted his sentiment with a grim smile. In no way did Thranduil seem to hold her beloved to blame for the outcome of the war in Mordor. There had been no condemnation of her; much to the contrary, he had expressed concern for her wellbeing. After a moment, she blinked and met the king's eyes again.

"Thou should know, O King, that Helluin blames herself solely for thy losses aforetime in battle and for the diminishing of thy people. Though she knows well that many fortunes rise and fall in war, she is wracked with such guilt as hast caused her to foreswear any contact with thee and thy people. She deems her presence both a focus and a reminder of sorrows unassuagable, and this she is determined not to visit upon thee. Long aforetime her actions brought her guilt and no sooner had she done what little she could to amend the plight of the Avari than tidings came to her of the fall of thy father. She hast substituted the one for the other, the new for the old."

"Say thou unto her, my friend, that no ill-will doth I bear her, nor blame doth I set upon her. Helluin did what she could for the benefit of my people ere the war. 'Twas not her fault what later came to pass. My father was't not sound in his strategies and atop his temperament such contrived his downfall. As thou say, many fortunes change in war."

_As thou remember, she did all the counselors would allow,_ Thranduil silently said to Beinvír eye to eye,_ 'twas by their own prejudice that they curtailed her aid and thereby hampered their people._

Beinvír nodded her thanks and bowed her head. Thranduil's absolution of her beloved meant a lot to her. Yet when she raised again her eyes, she noted the grimmer and harder expressions upon the faces of some of the counselors gathered 'nigh.

_Not all feel as do their king,_ she thought,_ and Helluin doth share her self-condemnation with some of Thranduil's house. 'Tis hardly to be wondered at. As the king said, the same sentiments stayed her hand in aiding the Nandor ere the war. Ahhh well._

"Gladly shalt I convey thy judgment to my beloved," the Green Elf said.

Thereafter the gathering spoke long of all that had come to pass of late in the forest and much that had come to pass in the west and south as well. The king's counselors spoke their peace, adding details and impressions. Some called for action, others for increasing the safety of the people by moving north. They spoke of the increased boldness of the spiders, the influx of eastern Men, and the sightings of Yrch. The succession of the kings of divided Arnor and the waxing might of Gondor was't told.

Now amongst the courtiers Beinvír marked the presence of one who said little, yet was't the only one who asked after her lover's mission to the south. 'Twas an elleth, handsome of face, dark-haired and dark-eyed, who seemed young for her station at court, yet who was't held in some esteem by the king, if the Green Elf's observations as he harkened to her words and repeatedly cast subtle glances in her direction spoke true. Indeed, Beinvír thought, King Thranduil seems eagerly poised to hear more from her.

"Howsoever be it that thy beloved dares seek the abode of yonder _thauron_**¹**?**" **she had asked Beinvírwith sadness and curiosity weighting her eyes. "Fey she must be to go thither by choice, and for thy torment I doth feel heartsick for thee, for so I woulds't be myself, were one dear to me to undertake such a jeopardy."

**¹**(**thauron**, **_an abhorrent one_**, Sindarin)

"_Inthuiril_**¹**, Helluin is Calben and lived upon a time in the Blessed West that lies 'cross the sea," Thranduil told her, "yet more than any other of her kindred, and of all who art known to me, she might chance such an act with hope of safety."

**¹**(**Inthuiril _Thoughtful One, in(d)_**(thought(inner),meaning) + **_-ui_**(-ful,-y) + **_-ril_**(fem. agent) Sindarin)

The elleth said 'naught in response, but dipped her head to her king to acknowledge his words. Still an expression of some doubt showed upon her features.

"Helluin is she whom many hither call the _Mórgolodh_," the king added. "Thou hath heard somewhat of her tale."

At this, Inthuiril cast a look of great curiosity at Beinvír but again held her peace. Thereafter she looked repeatedly to the Green Elf as the council continued throughout the day. Indeed she dwelt upon Beinvir's words with the attention of a hawk.

That evening Beinvír was't led to that same grotto wherein Thranduil had provided supper to her and Helluin so long before. Thither, o'er goblets of wine, the king and his guest could speak less formally.

"As thou saw, many at court mistrust thy beloved," the king admitted with an expression of sorrow, "and many others know her not. Yet there art some besides myself who hold her in esteem. When thou speak next to Helluin, assure her of my goodwill."

"I shalt do so," Beinvír said, "and for that thou hast my thanks."

The king looked down into his cup for a silent moment, but then raised his eyes to meet hers. He drummed his fingers upon the table, then stilled his hand. Beinvír cocked an eyebrow at him, deeming that some topic festered in his mind which he was't reticent to broach. At last he sighed and spoke.

"Thou marked Inthuiril, I wager, for she alone offered thee sympathy even ere she knew 'aught of Helluin."

"Aye," Beinvír nodded. In truth she was't somewhat curious about the elleth, but already felt some regard for her warmth, as well as surprise that she hadn't recognized Helluin's name when it had been spoken early in the conversation.

"She is young to be an advisor," he continued, "yet she hath a clear view of her own heart and this doth give her wisdom beyond her years. Her _adar_ is Nandor, her _naneth_ Sindar, and her maternal grandsire came with my household out of Eregion. Alas, he was't lost in battle upon Gorgoroth in the company of my father. A sister too she hast, (though little like her in temperament, being high-strung and flighty, though a great beauty), who hast chosen to abide for a time 'cross Anduin in Lórinand."

Beinvír regarded the king's words. They explained much but said little.

"Inthuiril hast importance to thee beyond her role as an advisor, I wager," the Green Elf said softly, a faint smile playing upon her lips, "for I marked that 'naught amongst the others of thy counselors did thou look to so oft, nor grace with such a measure of thy attention."

In the lamplight of the grotto, she was't sure that Thranduil blushed. For some moments he looked only into the depths of his cup, his golden hair falling to shadow his face. A sigh escaped him ere he returned his gaze to his guest and nodded in agreement.

"Wise thou art, Beinvír Laiquende, for thou hast seen in an afternoon what hast escaped most hither in this darkening wood for many years. Thy words art true. Inthuiril hast a measure of my attentions unclaimed and unclaimable by my other counselors. Indeed I find myself contemplating her oft in idle moments. Think thou that 'tis odd for one of my age? I fear I hath become enchanted in my heart, and she so young in years." He trailed off and his eyes focused upon some picture in his mind. For once it seemed not to be some dark memory out of the war, or some concern for the present troubles within his realm. His eyes brightened and a fugitive smile shaped his lips. Beinvír smiled with happiness.

"O King, I hath found none so old or so dour as to make their heart untouchable to the stirrings of love if they but let it. I would rejoice in thy happiness, my friend should thy desire be returned. Think thou that thy feelings art held in kind by the lady?"

Thranduil actually shook himself from his reveries and gave Beinvír an apologetic and sheepish grin.

"In truth I know not for sure," he admitted. "Mostly I feel that I may be foolish in my infatuation, for many art the young ellyn who pay her attention. Yet she hast declined the courtship of several already and so I fan the embers of my hopes, I suppose, seeking to prove with negative evidence a positive desire. And here am I, a king who hast lived o'er 5,000 years, reticent to confess my heart to one barely two _ennin_**¹** of age. I know 'tis foolish and none art more surprised than I to be caught so. Still, whatsoever can'st I do?"

**¹**(**ennin,_ years(144)_** pl. Sindarin equivalent of Quenya **yen**, (sing.) a period of 144 years of the sun and **yeni**, (pl.) Both reflect the "long year" as accounted by the Eldar in Middle Earth. Thus Inthuiril is somewhat less than 288 years of the sun in age.)

"I deem thou shalt do as thy heart bids thee, O King, and in thy proper time," Beinvír said, "yet such counsel as I would give urges thee to speak thy heart's desire if 'tis to join with Inthuiril, whether in an _aur_**¹**, or an _ín_**²**, or an_ ennin_. Life is long, my friend, yet time passes and cannot be reclaimed."

**¹**(**aur, _a day_** of 24 hours **Sindarin**)

**²**(**ín**, **_year_** of 365 days **Sindarin**)

The king nodded slowly in agreement. Even were his suit embraced by Inthuiril, to wait would mean to lose that time together ere he spoke and declared his heart. He looked 'cross the table at the Green Elf. For o'er 3,000 years her heart and Helluin's had been one. Though both ellith were commoners and homeless wanderers, a part of Thranduil felt envious of them…of their love. To never be alone in his heart; the thought warmed him more than he would hath thought it could.

"I shalt speak to her," he said softly, "for though the days darken, I would make sweet such time as is left."

Upon the Green Elf's face a smile shone clear as the twinkling lamplight. Unlike Elrond and Celebrian, Thranduil would not set aside his heart even though duty called. He would not face the coming darkness knowing not if the one who held his heart felt the same. And if the days were numbered and the years grew short, still he would make of them the best he could. Beinvír wondered for a moment what would hath come to pass had the _Peredhel_ fallen in the war in Eriador, or upon Dagorlad, or in Mordor during the Last Alliance. At the very least, Celebrian would hath wasted from heartbreak, while'st Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen would never hath been born. She wondered thence what her life would hath been had she not sought Helluin when her company had been imprisoned in the house of Iarwain-Ben-adar. The thought left her cold and she looked to the ring upon her finger. With a shudder, she realized that she could no longer conceive of being happy alone, for having been joined _fëa_ to _fëa_ with Helluin, the loss of that connection would be untenable. Indeed, no joy or hope would bind her thence to the Hither Shores.

"I shalt hope for thy bliss, my friend, for having felt it myself I shalt forewarn thee that never after shalt thou be whole alone, and yet if such be a loss, still the coming of such a joining shalt bring thy heart 'naught but joy."

Now they spoke further of many things, but the night grew old and they parted in warmth and friendship. Beinvír spread her ground cloth of pangolin pelts about her in a small copse 'nigh the grotto and placed her travel bag 'neath her head ere covering herself with her cloak. Thence she let herself wander upon the roads of her memories, revisiting scenes of happiness to rest her mind.

'Twas sometime later that she marked a figure approaching her resting place with stealth. From bole of tree to deep shadow did the figure advance in Elven silence, hooded and cloaked, as one stalking or coming to an ambush. Being that 'twas in her own nature to move unseen and unheard, the movements of others were the more easily discerned, especially when their skill was't lesser than her own. The Green Elf sighed softly in exasperation; her repose had been pleasant. When at last the figure came 'nigh it found thither an empty cloak, with 'naught but a travel bag 'neath its still warm folds.

Now the figure looked about in confusion and for a heartbeat sought after the one so recently present. She had marked 'naught of movement during her approach. 'Twas but a moment later that the telltale stretching of a bowstring coming from o'erhead made her freeze in place.

"_Ai ceri cin thíri an no i-ngelaidh_**¹**," came a whisper from above and slightly behind. _Pedo! Connon_ _cin._**²" **

**¹**(**Ai ceri cin thíri an no i-ngelaidh, _Whoever doth thou_**_(you)** seek**(look for)** 'neath hither**(these)** trees? **_**_ai_**(rel pro, _whoever_) + **_ceri-_**(do)** + _cin_**(2nd pers sing dir obj pro, _you_) **+ _thíri-_**(v, _look_)** + _an_**(for) + **_no_**(under) +**_i-ngelaidh hin_**(these trees) Sindarin)

**²(Pedo! Connon** **cin. _Speak! I command_**_(order)** thee**(you)._** _Pedo_**(imp. v,_ speak_!) + **_conno-_**(order) + **_-n_**(1st pers sing subj pro suff, _I_) + **_cin_**(2nd pers sing dir obj pro, _you_) Sindarin)

**To Be Continued**


	92. In An Age Before Chapter 92

**In An Age Before – Part 92

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The figure hesitated in silence a moment longer and that was't a moment too long for the Green Elf's patience. The hiss of her arrow's flight sounded for but a fraction of a heartbeat, so close was't the shooter to her target. By the inhuman perfection of the archer's aim, no harm came to the trespasser, but rather the arrowhead caught the top of her target's cloak's hood and stripped the garment away, pinning it to the bole of a tree and revealing the intruder's form.

"Inthuiril!" Beinvír hissed. "Thou nearly got thyself killed sneaking up on me like that. Whatsoever was't thou thinking?"

"I...I needed to speak with thee, without my presence becoming known," the elleth whispered. She sighed in frustration and sat down beside Beinvir's bedroll. "I am a _feredir_**¹ **and _tirien_**²** of the Greenwood and yet thou took me as if I was't a drunken mortal blundering through the wood. I hath seen not aforetime such woodscraft."

**¹**(**feredir,_ hunter_** Sindarin)

**²**(**tirien**, **_(f.)sentry_** (lit. _watcher_) **_tiri-_**(watch) +_ **-ien**_(fem. agent) Sindarin)

Beinvír dropped lightly from her perch in the branches, her bow holding a knocked arrow, but she had not drawn and when she landed she replaced the arrow in her quiver. She came to seat herself 'cross her bedroll from Inthuiril, watching her closely.

"Thou art no drunken mortal," she offered sympathetically, "but I hath spent an Age of the world in the wild and in the company of the greatest living warrior of the Eldar. One kindred only hath I met in all that time whose stealth is truly complete, and they art indeed mortals."

To this Inthuiril cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. Beinvír shook her head and declined to pursue the topic of the Drúedain.

"Whyfore doth thou seek me?" Beinvír asked.

"Because I hath 'aught to say concerning the Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr. I fear 'tis no living Man consumed with evil, but rather, 'tis no natural being of this world. I fear he is something more fell."

"How come thee to such suspicions?"

Inthuiril sighed and looked carefully about the copse, and she spoke only after convincing herself that none lurked 'nigh to o'erhear.

"Twas well 'nigh a year past and I was't south of the Men-i-Naugrim upon a patrol, when still we ventured thither. Four others there were with me and we went forward warily, for the spiders had become forward and aggressive. Now upon a night when I alone was't keeping watch as the others sought their rest, I heard a sound like leaves dancing in the breeze, yet the air was't still. Faint came the sounds; so faint as to disturb not my companions from their rest. 'Twas not light-hearted or random though, this rustling, but told of purposeful movement. I knew not what to expect, nor indeed felt that 'twas something fell, and so I raised not an alarm, but rather set arrow to string and waited with sharpened senses.

Not long did I wait ere I saw movement 'neath Ithil's scant and dappled light. 'Twas a tree, or so I deemed it at first, yet it moved with a will! Never had I seen 'aught of such a thing, nor ever had I thought to, and though I had heard aforetime of the Onodrim and their _Huorns_, ever had I deemed such but the denizens of myth, or the inhabitants of strange lore out of ancient days. Perhaps 'neath the starlight when the world was't new such beings had been, but surely none such yet walked the wood in these latter days, thought I. Yet 'twas not so.

The Onod came forth, bypassing our camp by some ten fathoms as he made his way south, and I crept out to see such a wonder the closer. Indeed wholly captivated was't I. Thus unable to do otherwise, I dared approached.

Now perchance thou too hath heard 'aught of the Onodrim, though thy homelands lie far to the west? They art most keenly aware, for so I learnt when the Onod looked straight at me. Though I had approached with all my stealth it served me for 'naught. _'Ahh,_ _Penedh Eryn en Calenglad_**¹**,' he said softly in Sindarin, then added, _'Ha no naer tómín govannam hi no_ _Mórdú Gost._**²**_'_ To this dark line I could but nod in shock.

**¹**(**Penedh Eryn en Calenglad_, A Forest Elf of the Greenwood, _****_penedh_**(Elf) + **_eryn_**(forest) + **_en_**(def art, _the_) + **_calen_**(green) + **_glad_**(woods) Sindarin)

**²**(**Ha no naer tó mín govannam hi no en Mórdú Gost, _'Tis sad that we meet now 'neath_**_(under)** the Black Night of Terror. **_**_ha_**(3rd pers sing subj pro, _it_) + **_no-_**(be, _is_) + **_naer_**(sad) + **_tó_**(dem pro, _that_) + **_govanno-_**(meet) + **_-am_**(3rd pers pl subj pro suff, _we_)** + _hi_**(now)** + _no_**(under) + **_en_**(def art, _the_) + **_mór_**(black) + **_dú_**(night) + **_gost_**(terror) Sindarin)

The Onod looked upon me sadly and then continued on his way, to what end I know'th not. So shocked was't I that I tried neither to stay him, nor to question him. Indeed I stood thither long after he was't gone, blinking and wondering if I had seen 'naught but a phantasm. But thereafter I brooded long upon his words, and this I bethought myself by association…_Mórdú…_Mordor…for where else lies the night so black as in the Black Land? And from old tales whispered amongst our folk of the days of war long ago, I marked the _Gost_ as akin to that which proceeded the Nine Servants of Him whom we abhor. I hath come to believe that 'tis one at least of his Úlairi who doth hold the tower of Dól Gúldúr. Think thou that my imagination be o'erwrought?"

Beinvír had harkened to all that Inthuiril had said, and she knew from personal experience that the Onodrim spoke precisely, even when speaking hastily in an Elven tongue. For one sensitive to word associations, the Onod's choices begged possibilities. Atop this, Inthuiril had reached the same conclusion as had Elrond and Galadriel.

"Hath thou reported thy suspicions to thy king?" The Green Elf asked.

"Nay, I hath not as yet," Inthuiril said, and chewed her lip in uncertainty. "Tis my suspicion only and based but on a fanciful interpretation of the words of one seen by none but myself. Indeed the words of one whom many now would scarce believe could be."

"Despite whatsoever others hither might believe, I believe thou hast seen one of the Enyd, for I myself hath met with many of that kindred oft enough to know them. Given the darkness and the surprise of thy brief meeting, woulds't thou hazard to guess at a type of tree to which this Onod clove? Dids't thou apprehend the shape of his leaves, or mark the texture of his bark, the manner of his branching, or the habit of his growth?"

To this the younger elleth nodded and slid a hand into a flat pouch that was't attached to her belt.

"I hath better than my memory only upon which to depend," Inthuiril said. Here she produced a parchment packet which she carefully unfolded, revealing the dried form of a leaf. "'Twas shed from his person as he passed me by, and I kept it to help convince myself of what I'd seen."

"Hmmmmm, 'tis from a tulip tree surely," Beinvír mused. Tucked into a corner of her memory lay an image of a young seeming Onod who had been present at the moot that Oldbark had called in his hall at Laiquadol to hear Helluin's recitation. It had been just prior to their attempt to convince King Oropher to accept Helluin's aid in preparing his troops for the War of the Last Alliance. Helluin had collapsed after o'er three days of speaking in the mind-numbing _Enyd Lamb_. Beinvír still seethed at the memory.

"I know not this Onod by name, though I hath seen him aforetime," the Green Elf said.

Inthuiril looked at her in surprise. Save perhaps the king and maybe a few of his household, none of her folk had seen or held converse with the Onodrim in this Age. If Thranduil had ever held council with them aforetime, he spoke not of it in public.

"Whence?"

"At Amon Galen, in 3410 of the Second Age, whereat Oldbark, Lord of the Onodrim and of Calenglad i'Dhaer, summoned forth his folk to a Council to hear my beloved speak of the growing threat of Sauron."

Inthuiril nodded. Here for the first time, one acknowledged having met the Enyd, and not just by chance and at large in the woods, but as guests and advisors in their king's hall. That afternoon, King Thranduil had greeted Beinvír as a friend, not as a visiting noble, but he had spoken of Helluin with high esteem.

"Thy _melda_, Helluin is a _brand híril Celbin_**¹**?" Inthuiril hesitantly asked. For one of noble birth to hath declared her love for one of common birth would hath been frowned upon yet not unheard of. T'would explain why the two ellith wandered rather than lived as courtiers in Imladris or Mithlond.

**¹**(**brand híril Celbin**, **_noble lady of the Noldor._** **_brand_**(noble) + **_híril_**(lady) + **_Celbin_**(Elves of Light, _Noldor_) Sindarin)

Beinvír first chuckled at her question, but then took pity upon her, seeing her growing blush of embarrassment.

"Nay, Inthuiril, neither she nor I art come of noble families amongst our peoples, but rather we art both of common birth," the Green Elf said. "Yet she hath wandered long and counts many friends in many places, commoner and royal alike."

"My king hath said that she could walk amidst the Shadows in safety, and from our lore I know 'aught of her tale; engaging the Úlairi aforetime in combat…and even the Great Enemy himself."

Beinvír nodded, but worry shone upon her face. _In safety? I think not. Merely 'tis that she may go thither into Darkness as others might not, and by the Light of her fëa and the darkness of her wrath hath hope of return._

"What doth thou know of the Celbin, Inthuiril?" the Green Elf asked.

"Only that they came from the West long ago and art deemed the bringers of war. My folk for the most part distrust and reject them. For my part, I know them not, nor hath I ever met one of that kindred."

Beinvír understood her attitude. The Noldor remaining in Middle Earth were few now, perhaps no more than a few thousand in all the lands, living almost exclusively in Eriador. Distrust of them 'twas ingrained in the Tawarwaith of the Greenwood, a legacy of their Nandor roots, and yet Beinvír knew that old King Lenwe had honored Helluin at Edhellond two Ages before, and he the high king of all the Nandor. King Lenwin of Lindórinand too had accepted her and welcomed her to his realm 'neath the mellyrn.

"Inthuiril, Helluin lived with the _Aeniath_**¹** in the Blessed Realm of Aman for o'er 3,600 years, and in that time she was't enriched and empowered by the Light and Holiness of that land. That Light she can call upon for her protection from the Shadow and the Darkness; indeed those who cleave to the Darkness fear the very rumor of her. She is called _Mórgolodh_ by thy people for many reasons, amongst them the black armor she wears, which was't forged in Khazad-dûm. Her weapons art by all rights enchanted, having fell wills and voices of their own, and within her lies a wrath which confers upon her the greatest prowess of any living Elda. Her doom hast been declared by Manwë; she cannot die in battle, and she hast lived already 'nigh on 9,000 years. Thrice she hast challenged the Dark Lord to personal combat, though without the final resolution she craves."

**¹**(**aeniath, _all gods and goddesses,_** _**aen**_(god) + **_-iath_**(coll pl suff) **Sindarin **equivalent of** Quenya _Ainur_**)

To this there the young elleth could say 'naught. The words of her king made sense to Inthuiril at last. And now this mighty warrior was't making her way to Dól Gúldúr, thither perhaps to learn the truth of her own suspicions. Scarcely a heartbeat passed 'twixt her acceptance of Beinvir's words and the blooming of her curiosity. For all that she was't a thoughtful one, there lived inside her a great thirst for adventure, and more than a touch of impulsiveness as well.

"I pray thee, think well upon sharing thy knowledge with thy king, Inthuiril," Beinvír said. "Thranduil was't ever unafraid to learn what befalls in his realm and beyond it, for he knows that ignorance can lay the doom of his people."

The words drew the Nando from her thoughts and she acknowledged them with a nod, but the faraway look in her eyes as she took her leave left the Green Elf troubled. 'Twas long ere she returned to her rest.

Now upon the morrow Beinvír was't left to her own devices, for the king was't occupied directing the warriors of Greenwood in the repulsion of a massed company of spiders that had waylaid a path from the Men-i-Naugrim. Though long unheard of, such actions had become a real threat. 'Twas late indeed ere the king's soldiers returned, and so no court was't held that day. Upon the next, that being 20 Narwain, (January 20th), Beinvír was't summoned to court and thither she noted the absence of Inthuiril from the circle of advisors. At this, a dark foreboding grew upon her heart.

The king too looked more than once to Inthuiril's vacant spot, checking himself in the act of asking her opinion on the spiders. He shook his head in irritation. Later, when he again started to question her and then fell silent seeing her empty chair, he asked the other courtiers after her whereabouts. 'Twas then, when none knew 'aught of her, that worry deepened upon both he and the Green Elf. A servant he dispatched to find Inthuiril and bid her join them, but when the court adjourned for the evening meal, the servant had still not returned.

"I seek not to trouble thy counsels, O King," Beinvír said as the two sat drinking cups of wine ere their meal was't served, "yet I must tell thee of suspicions which hath grown in my mind all through this day. Inthuiril I met two nights past, and we spoke then of the Shadow and of the doings in the south…and of Helluin's mission thither. Now though I know Inthuiril but little, still I can'st not free myself of the feeling that she may hath sought to go thither as well. She told me that she had seen an Onod, and that his words birthed a thought in her mind numbering the Sorcerer amongst the Úlairi. She may hope that by going thither, she can'st learn the truth."

Thranduil had set aside his cup and was't regarding Beinvír with a growing horror. 'Twas not merely the concern of a king for a valued subject; rather 'twas akin to the stricken look of one whose beloved hath gone into certain jeopardy.

_He knows her better than I and believes her capable of this course too_, the Green Elf thought, _yet what I see upon him is the ghost of more than knowledge. 'Tis rather a bond of the heart unrequited, I wager. How horrible for him then, to be aching for a love undeclared, while'st no doubt feeling that the time for it may hath run out ere its start. _

Beinvír watched the king close his eyes and groan as though his wine had turned to pig's blood or vinegar. Inthuiril was't 'nigh on two days gone by now and in all the fastness of the wood, she would be well 'nigh impossible to find. Even were she not gifted with so great a lead, the way had grown more dangerous.

"In truth she may not hath gone thither…" Beinvír began, but the king shook his head.

"But 'tis most likely she hast," he finished for her. "Ever hast Inthuiril been saddled with a yearning to know all things and long hath the Golodhrim been a topic of curiosity for her. It began with the tales of her sisterNimrodel, who hast seen the Lady Galadriel accompanying Lord Celeborn on embassies to the Golden Wood. Helluin would be to Inthuiril like a lodestone to iron filings, or perhaps as is a lamp to a moth. And now thou say she believes as we doth believe, that the Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr is indeed one of Sauron's Nine. Herein lies her chance to slay two birds with one shot." He closed his eyes and hung his head.

"Shalt we not seek for her, my friend?" Beinvír softly asked the stricken king.

Saddened eyes rose to regard her, and long did Thranduil ponder his answer. As never before did his heart know its truth. Inthuiril was't dear to him…indeed dearer to him had she become than any since his father's passing in the last war. He felt again the spirit-crushing weight of loss, and 'twas all the worse now for having never known what might hath been. And yet he was't a king, and charged thereby first with the welfare of his folk.

"Inthuiril is a scout and march warden of the Greenwood," he said sadly, "and she hast well 'nigh two days head start. T'would be a rare and fateful chance that any hither should o'ertake and come upon her, for if thou art correct about her errand, she shalt travel fast and in stealth. Only into their own jeopardy would any go whom I could send after her. The wood darkens and evil walks 'neath the boles. The Onodrim and their _Huorns_ art no more. Though it breaks my very heart, I can send none on such an errand. She is on her own."

Beinvír knew love and knew what was't at stake. Ever had Thranduil and his father before him treated her and her beloved with honor and friendship, even in the face of the distrust of their own subjects. They were noble lords and more than this, they were friends. Beinvír felt wretched. Surely Inthuiril had taken inspiration from her words and then gone to satisfy her long-brewing curiosity. What the Green Elf had told the young scout had surely inflamed her to action. Of this she had no doubt. Beinvír could not sit idle while'st Thranduil's chance of finding happiness slipped away and grew dimmer with each mile that Inthuiril went south.

"Lord, I hath long tread the wilds of Middle Earth, and were any save Helluin to go thither with hope of success, than t'would be I. If none of thy folk can'st thou send in good conscience, than I shalt go, for of my words did Inthuiril find the spark that kindled her to this fey pass."

But Thranduil would hear none of this. He shook his head and his face was't stern.

"Beinvír, thou art my guest in this realm, and more, thou art my friend. I give thee not my leave to pursue Inthuiril. Unsaid is the charge upon me to keep thee safe 'till thou art reunited with thy beloved, yet such was't implicit in thy coming hither rather than accompanying Helluin south. I see this clear as day.

Nay, though I know I can'st stay thee not, thou shalt not go with my blessing. I shalt not tempt fate to balance thus my prior loss with the loss of thee by giving thee my leave. Many hither hath blamed Helluin for the death of Oropher…perchance even she believes I hold such feelings as well. I do not. Yet knowing the heartbreak of such a loss, I cannot chance such befalling another of my friends. Thou may fall one day Beinvír, and the loss shalt devastate thy beloved, but it shalt not come to pass in this time nor upon my behalf. Inthuiril tempts her own fate. Let her not tempt thine and Helluin's as well."

_Caught again amidst conflicting interests and the guilt of others am I,_ the Green Elf thought, _and all that Thranduil says is true. Though I hath ever sought to be free, I find I am all to oft constrained. Alas for Inthuiril. Alas for Thranduil._

With great reluctance, Beinvír nodded her head, acceding to the king's will. She would stay. 'Cross the table Thranduil dipped his head briefly in thanks for her cooperation, but the look of sadness in his eyes broke the Green Elf's heart. With infinite tenderness she reached 'cross the table and clasped his hand, and the desperate strength of his grip as he fought the darkening of his hopes was't poignant and as deeply melancholic as anything Beinvír could recall in many a long year. Long they remained thus, and some who watched wondered at the sight, but none dared intrude, not even the servers who bore away their dinners uneaten.

**To Be Continued**

7


	93. In An Age Before Chapter 93

**In An Age Before – Part 93**

_**Author's note: **the story will be getting a bit darker for a chapter or two, primarily in this installment and the next. This chapter may be a little depressing. Also, it contains more than my usual content of Elvish language, complete with annoying translation notes. I'll add a similar but more specific warning for content before the next chapter as well. _

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**Chapter Fifty-eight**

'_**Nigh Dól Gúldúr – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Upon 8 Nínui, (February 8th), Helluin made her way 'nigh the ruined hall of Oldbark at the foot of Laiquadol, which was't now and after called Amon Lanc. The encircling grove of trees had been burnt to charred stumps, while'st charcoal trunks lay haphazardly upon the ground. The whispering enchanted stream of the Onodrim had run mute and dry, and the pebbles of its bed looked as if they had been scorched by the same intense conflagration. Like the sad, stub-ends of blackened bones strewn in the aftermath of Dagorlad they seemed to Helluin's eyes. Oldbark's pool was't choked with the decaying carcasses of animals and the invaders' excrement. A foul ocher scum skinned the surface upon which maggots wriggled, and from which burst oily bubbles wafting putrid vapors into the stagnant air. The laughing falls that had fed it was't now but a dry stain upon the cliff-face. Even the topsoil 'neath Helluin's feet appeared roasted and dead. 'Twas the work of some very thorough hate that took upon itself a concern with details, such that it found satisfaction only in the ruination of all, even down to the least detail. The wasted ugliness of that once verdant place made Helluin grit her teeth against a rising nausea, but 'neath it grew the flames of her wrath.

Since leaving the stricken Onod, Helluin had passed an increasing count of blundering Easterlings during her stealthy advance, leaving none the wiser for her passage. Even a few Yrch had she seen, marching in a bickering band towards the darkling tower upon the now barren heights, bent no doubt upon some fell errand for their master. She had been tested in resisting the temptation to slay them all for to preserve her stealth.

Of the Sorcerer Helluin had seen 'naught, nor had she marked any _mórgúl,_ nor any signs of conjuring. The destruction that she had witnessed could well hath been accomplished by simple torches and the malice of mortals. All about her the wood lay silent in the aftermath, but with an undercurrent of despair that emanated from the trees. Now no bird sang and no beast walked. Not even a fly or mosquito circled in the air. 'Twas as if all life had fled or been snuffed out, right down to the snails, ants, and millipedes. Indeed the only evidence of any that went upon more than two legs was't some shreds of webbing shifting forlorn amidst the branches of the dead trees 'nigh the ascending path. This Helluin had expected, and yet to her surprise, no living spiders nor any egg sacks had she marked. Indeed not even the web-wrapped remains of their meals could be discerned. She could only suspect that such had become rations for the Glam.

For many heartbeats the Noldo stood still as frozen stone, and in her mind's eye she saw the place as it had once been.

_Here a bubbling freshet skipped merrily down slope on a bed of quartz, white marble pebbles and glittering mica. During the daytime it would catch the sunlight in flickering silver, white, and gold, as it ran out of a pool fed by a small waterfall. The falls came over a wall of schist, (beside an upward path that continued from the entrance), and formed one side of Oldbark's home. An aisle open to the sky above traced the stream through a clearing overhung with the branches of many species, oak, maple, rowan, poplar, hornbeam, hickory, and beech among others. All were encircled by a perimeter of ancient yews that formed a living palisade that ran out from the cliff and back to it, forming a wall so dense that 'nary a mouse could have squeezed betwixt the trunks and woven branches. Only the entrance was unblocked. The entire enclosed space was about the same size as King Lenwin's hall and the trees within it stood as if holding court. Helluin looked around in admiration, then knelt by the stream and drank thirstily from a cupped hand. She found the water delicious and chill, and it gave her a tingling sensation that quickly progressed from her mouth to the furthest tips of her fingers and toes. She would have sworn that she could even detect the effects in her hair. It left her feeling thoroughly refreshed._ It had been in SA 264, at her first meeting with Oldbark, the right lord of Calenglad i'Dhaer.

The destruction of Laiquadol had kindled Helluin's simmering anger to rage. She cast her eyes upwards to the tower and upon the topmost battlement she spied a standard, black, and emblazoned with a leering death's head. It seemed to mock her from the heights. In moments she was't seething. _Be this sorcerer Úlair or mortal, no fear of him hath I_, she thought, _but rather a debt to collect on behalf of friends. _With that she broke from cover and strode up the path towards Dól Gúldúr.

Now indeed Helluin was't espied by watchers in the tower, but the way was't short in its ascension and scant time of preparation had those within. Scarcely did the portcullis of the main gate crash down closed ere Helluin marched into the clearing before the walls.

Darkness seemed to seep from the battlements, dimming the afternoon sunlight. Chill blew the breeze 'cross the barren rock 'neath her boots. Yet Helluin's figure smoldered as with a living fire inside its casement of blackened _mithril_, a shrouded lamp filled with Holy Light that none before her could withstand. Shielded by their walls and dark magic and strong in their numbers, 'twas still those within that trembled in fear, and the greatest amongst them had known her aforetime…had known her and contested with her, and twice met defeat.

Hatred and fear warred within the being who had once been Tindomul, Prince of Lost Númenor. Lord of the Nine he was't, sent thither by his formless master to do his bidding in spreading darkness and terror to these nethermost of the western lands. Ere his lord could take his old form again in the east, the whereabouts of his lost trinket must needs be revealed. Thus to ease such searches as would be made for its recovery, the Lord of the Nine had been dispatched to take and hold the eastern bank of Anduin. This mission he had begun but five years past, and already his greatest nemesis had appeared to thwart him. He fairly shook with rage as he looked down from the topmost chamber of his tower.

"_Ceri berthech govannad nin sí a hi, Mórgúlron?_**¹**_"_ Helluin cried out to the unseen menace that she knew watched her from above. With a sneer, she added, _"Ceri garech e-nhuor?_**²**_"_

**¹(Ceri berthech govannad nin sí a hi, mórgúlron? _Doth thou dare to meet me hither and now, Black Sorcerer?_ ****_ceri-_**(do) + **_bertho-_**(dare) +**_ -ech_**(2nd pers sing subj suff, _you_) + **_govanno-_**(meet) + **_-ad _**(inf v suff, _to_) + **_nin_**(1st pers dir obj pro, _me_) + **_sí_**(here) + **_a_**(and) + **_hi_**(now) + **_mórgúl_**(black sorcery) + **_-ron_**(masc agent suff) Sindarin)

**²**(**Ceri garech e-nhuor?_ Doth thou hath the courage? _****_ceri-_**(do) + **_garo-_**(have) +**_ -ech_**(2nd pers sing subj suff, _you_) + **_en_**(sing def art, _the_) + **_huor_**(courage) Sindarin)

Now Helluin's voice carried clear to the battlements and the chambers in Dól Gúldúr. Thither did many Eastern Men and Yrch hear her voice. In his high chamber the Lord of the Nazgûl seethed. Neither could he go forth with confidence to face her who had twice bested him aforetime, nor could he make no answer to her challenge, for to do thus would diminish him irrevocably before his minions and thralls. Fearsome and powerful though he was't, invincible he was't not. Few threats greater in the Mortal Lands were there than the deadly Ring that Helluin bore, and the fear of it in his heart shamed him and left him indecisive. Soldiers and slaves awaited his orders; Helluin awaited his response.

From outside the walls came only silence. From inside came the first whispers and grumbles of his troops. Helluin had questioned his courage, and though 'twas but her anger speaking, the words had struck a bulls eye by focusing the weight of his soldiery's attention squarely upon him. If t'were possible, Tindomul came to hate her even more than aforetime.

"_Tulo e anbaudh! Cín úgirth no beleg a thaur,_**¹**_"_ Helluin demanded. When no response came from the deserted and silent walls she taunted, _"Noch maer dravad gylv a narvad coe?_**²**_" _

**¹(Tulo e anbaudh! ****Cín úgirth no beleg a thaur**. **_Come out for judgment! Your sins are great and abhorrent._** **_tulo-_**(come) + **_e(d)-_**(out)+ **_an(-)_**(for) + **_baudh_**(legal judgmentSindarin) **_Cín_**(2nd pers sing poss pro, _your_) + **_úgirth_**(sins) + **_no-_**(are) + **_beleg_**(great) + **_a_**(and) + **_thaur_**(abhorrent) Sindarin)

**²(Noch maer dravad gylv a narvad coe? _Art thou fit (but) to hew branches and burn dirt?_** **_no-_**(be, _are_) + **_-(e)ch_**(2nd pers sing subj suff, _you_) + **_maer_**(fit) + **_dravo-_**(hew) + **_–ad_**(inf v suff, _to_) + **_gylv_** (branches, pl of _golv_) + **_a_**(and) + **_narvo-_**(burn) + **_–ad_**(inf v suff, _to_) + **_coe_**(earth) Sindarin)

With this challenge, the Lord of the Nazgûl knew he could no longer fail to answer. Now his soldiers' rising tide of voices came to his ears, some questioning, and some jeering. Next would come the whispering and plotting that invariably led to mutiny. In truth he would flay them all alive if they tried it, but they were ever ambitious and seldom smart. Indeed while'st they could at times be cunning, their aspirations were predictable and their secrecy was't transparent.

With a sigh he looked out his tower window, vexed that he could discern so few options, yet as he resolved to go out and meet her for better or for worse, he spied movement amidst the dead trees a distance behind her. A cruel grin shaped his features, for he perceived that his deliverance might well be at hand. Helluin was't not alone, and who traveled with her but her beloved Green Elf, Beinvír, whom his master had long sought to make captive? Tindomul could hardly believe his luck, for he deemed that it could be none other who skulked amongst the woods.

Now Helluin was't focused well 'nigh exclusively upon the tower, for from within it she felt a churning evil. Thither lay a darkness which was't familiar. 'Twas lesser than the aura of her great enemy, but like unto it in kind for it partook of his power. The Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr was't not Sauron himself, but 'twas well 'nigh certainly one of his nine servants. A sneer curled Helluin's lips. One of the _Úlairi_ she woulds't send to the Void this day. So fixed upon the tower was't Helluin that she marked not the company of Yrch which snuck from a postern door 'round a corner of the wall from the gate; nor did she mark that they moved through a culvert to flank her while'st making for the woods, for now at last, the Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr deigned to answer her challenges.

The portcullis of Dól Gúldúr creaked as 'twas hauled upwards, and when it had risen two fathoms, a single figure emerged therefrom. 'Twas draped in a tattered black cloak, the hood drawn low o'er a shadow so deep that no facial features could be seen. Fear proceeded from that form as smoke doth curl from kindling just ere it bursts into flame. Definitely a Nazgûl. A long bitter blade it held clasped in its steel-gauntleted right hand.

"_Mae govannen, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel,"_ the Nazgûl said,_ "Na cin úmarth túlich an sí emel cin narchatha hich._**¹**_"_

**¹**(**Na cin úmarth túlich an sí emel cin narchatha hich. _To thy doom thou hath come, for hither thy heart shalt be torn from thee._** **_na_**(to) + **_cin_**(2nd pers sing poss pro, _your_) + **_úmarth_**(doom, ill-fate) + **_tulo-_**(come) + **_-i_**(near past v suff,_ have come_) + **_-(e)ch_**(2nd pers sing subj pro suff,_ you_) + **_an(-)_**(for) + **_sí_**(here) + **_emel_**(heart) + **_cin_**(2nd pers sing poss pro, _your_) + **_narcho-_**(tear) + **_-atha_**(fut v suff, _will be torn_) + **_hich_**(2nd pers sing prep pro, _from_ _you_) Sindarin)

'_Tis but wishful thinking or a bluff_, Helluin thought as she drew Anguirél and the Sarchram. She was't about to say as much, when from amongst the ravaged trees behind her came the sounds of fighting; guttural profanities of Yrch, twang of a bow, quick hiss of an arrow, a thud and a cry of pain, and then the rapid clash of steel. 'Twas followed shortly by the voice of an elleth cursing.

Looking from the Nazgûl, Helluin turned toward the disturbance, and shortly she saw five Yrch dragging forth a prisoner from the tree line. Two restrained her by the arms while'st a third followed with her captured weapons, bow, quiver, and short sword. Of the last two survivors from their company, one Orch led the procession while'st the other brought up the rear, both with drawn scimitars. They were making their way rapidly for the safety of their gate.

Now Helluin studied the elleth carefully. She was't taller than the Green Elf by a handspan and clad in the forest green of Thranduil's people. The Elda could hardly believe the timing. Whatever was't a Nando of Greenwood doing 'nigh the sorcerer's tower now? The Tawarwaith of Calenglad i'Dhaer had seldom roamed so far south even in days of peace. Helluin sighed and shook her head, for her position had suddenly become far more complicated. T'would become more complicated still when the Yrch reached Dól Gúldúr. She could almost feel the Ringwraith laughing at her predicament.

Directly to the gate did the Yrch haul their prisoner, and thither they forced her to her knees before their lord. Sheathing his sword, the Ringwraith clasped the elleth by the hood of her cloak and then set his dagger 'cross her throat. To Helluin's sight, the blade was't shrouded in a shadow of deadly evil. _A mórgúl blade,_ she thought, _and one more fell to my eye than that which wounded Beinvír aforetime._

"_Thir! Garon pen melda naich,_**¹**_" _the Ringwraith declared.

**¹**(**Thir! Garon pen melda naich. _Look! I hold one dear to thee. thír_**(look) + **_garo-_**(hold) + **_-n_**(1st pers sing subj pro suff, _I_) + **_pen_**(one, somebody) + **_meld_**(dear) + **_na_**(to) + **_ich_**(2nd pers sing pro,_ you_) Sindarin)

Helluin blinked, astonished that the Nazgûl couldn't tell this elleth from Beinvír, whom he had actually met long aforetime in Umbar and Pelargir. _Stupid wraith,_ she thought, _all that sniffling…so akin to a hound, and yet he is blinder than a bat 'neath the sun._

"_Penio dad magol cín!_**¹**_"_ he demanded, and then after another moment's thought, he added, _"a cín Echor_**²**_"_

**¹**(**Penio dad magol cín**!**_ Set down thy sword! __penio-_**(set) + **_dad_**(down) + **_magol_**(sword) + **_cín_**(2nd pers sing poss pro suff,_ your_) Sindarin)

**²**(**_a cín Echor! and thy Ring!_** **_A_**(and) +**_ cín_**(2nd pers sing poss pro suff,_ your_) + **_Echor_**(ring; outer) Sindarin)

To this, Helluin made no answer, but stared at the tableau before her in silence.

Now in truth, Helluin was't trying to decide whether she could cast the Sarchram and slay this Nazgûl ere he could slit the elleth's throat. She doubted not her accuracy, but rather the time t'would take for her cast to cover the distance. To her eye the flight time required would leave her lacking for some factions of a heartbeat. The Sarchram would send thither to the Void the wretched wraith's _fëa_, but t'would come to pass as the elleth's blood began to flow upon his blade. With a groan, Helluin realized that she could not slay this enemy and save the strange Elf-maiden. Worse, only so long as he believed that he held Beinvír prisoner would he value the Elf of Greenwood's life.

Now the Nazgûl reckoned Helluin's hesitation for defiance, and so he pressed tighter the dagger's edge against the elleth's throat, causing her to gag. The sound jarred Helluin from her calculations. Upon her decision rested the life of yet another of Greenwood's Elves, and ever laboring 'neath her guilt, Helluin could not allow her decision to bring another death to one of that kindred.

"_Leitho hen, laith thaur!_**¹**_"_ Helluin demanded, allowing a note of desperation to creep into he voice. 'Twas only his belief that he held prisoner her beloved that kept him from executing the elleth.As expected, her words were met with an asthmatic rasping that Helluin assumed was't his version of derisive laughter.

**¹**(**Leitho hen, laith thaur! _Release her, abominable spirit! _****_leitho-_**(release) + **_hen_**(3rd pers dir obj pro, _her_) + **_laith_**(spirit) + **_thaur_**(abominable)! Sindarin)

"_Baw! Úceri abo nin, Helluin! Degathon hen fëa an uir._**¹**_"_

**¹**(**Baw! Úceri abo nin, Helluin! Degathon hen fëa an uir. _No! Do not refuse me, Helluin! I will slay her spirit forever! _**(**_baw _**(no!) + **_ú-_**(neg prefix) + **_ceri-_**(do) + **_abo-_**(refuse) + **_nin_**(1st pers sing obj pro, _me_) + **_Helluin _**+ **_degi-_**(slay) + **_-atho-_**(future v suff) + **_-n_**(1st pers sing subj suff, _I_) + **_hen_**(3rd pers sing f pro, _her_) + **_fëa_**(spirit) + **_an_**(for) + **_uir_**(eternity) Sindarin)

To this the elleth blanched and whimpered and the Nazgûl chortled a wheezing cough of glee. Helluin's shoulders sagged, and as her enemies watched from within their walls, she lowered and then dropped her longsword and the deadly Sarchram. She looked for all Arda like a defeated foe falling into despair. As the Yrch came forward to collect her weapons and bind her, she summoned what failing dignity she could and begged the Nazgûl, _"Úharno hen, awarthon e-chost._**¹**_"_

**¹**(**Úharno hen, awarthon e-chost. _Do not hurt her, I surrender(_lit. trans._ abandon the fight)_. _ú-_**(neg prefix) + **_harno-_**(hurt) +**_ hen_**(3rd pers sing f pro, _her_) + **_awartho-_**(abandon) + **_-n_**(1st pers subj pro suff, _I_) + **_en_**(def art, _the_) + **_cost_**(fight) Sindarin)

_Ir ni elu e-choth e-mbandril notulant._**¹**_ Min en elu e-choth e-mbandril turo drammo._**² **Though grim of face, her own words of advice to the Lady Inzilbêth almost 1,500 years before came to her mind.

**¹**(**Ir ni elu e-choth e-mbandril notulant, _When to the heart of the enemy the prisoner is brought._ **Sindarin)

**²**(**Min en elu e-choth e-mbandril turo drammo, _Within the heart of the enemy the prisoner can strike._ **Sindarin)

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Note: **_Hereafter I intend to return to the practice of acknowledging reviews in the subsequent posting, and to address legitimate comments by readers._

**From: _The Last Temptation of Homer_ on 8/3/2006 for Chapter 92**

Please don't shove in random definitions in the text; this is very distracting and more than a little annoying for most of us.  
if you want to explain things to the reader, leave it until the end.

_**1)**I don't understandwhich definitionscan beconsidered random? All of them relate to Elvish language included in the text in the paragraph directly preceding the note. Sorry you find it annoying. By stating that it's "...more than a little annoying for most of us", I assume that you've polled other readers for their opinions. I'm curious about this since you're the first and only person to object to my practice of giving clarification in the text.  
**2)** As for waiting until the end "...to explain things to the reader", I should explain that I'm posting this story at several sites and the updates are not broken at the same places in all cases. I am not going to format the notes for each site's updates individually...the work would become excessive since in my working document the notes are placed after the paragraph to which they apply. Also, this is a very long story that I'm not going to end with 20 pages of footnotes. In any case, I'm sorry that my text-body notes have diminished your enjoyment of the story. Although I understand that it's standard practice on this site, personally, I've always found it far more distracting to search for clarifications at the bottom of an update page, (which forces me to scroll down and then back up to resume reading), or to forgo the information until the end of the chapter._


	94. In An Age Before Chapter 94

**In An Age Before – Part 94**

_**Warning: **This chapter contains some inept attempts at torture and sexual molestation by an Orkish gaoler in the dungeons of Dól Gúldúr. The setting is disgusting and slaughter follows. (While I don't really believe that the degree of degradation visited on the main character will ultimately offend too many readers, forewarned is forearmed, as they say.)_

_**Author's Note: **at the suggestion of a reviewer I am trying a compromise approach in presenting my Elvish language translations. The direct translation is presented immediately following its usage in the text. For those interested, the full translation is presented at the end of the chapter. For that suggestion, and for all the reviews, I wish to dedicate this chapter to Elven-Cat2. Thanks, Cat!_

Nightfall found Helluin shackled by the wrists and ankles to the damp stone wall of a fetid cell, deep 'neath the tower of Dól Gúldúr. Upon the irons a binding spell had been laid by the Ringwraith. Beside her a forgotten carcass remained supported by its manacles, draped in flail-rent shreds of cloth and armor tarnishing with rust. Upon the cadaver's shriveled scalp clung a mat of dirty golden hair. _A North-Man from 'twixt Celduin and Carnen, I wager,_ Helluin had thought upon her first regard of the white horse head emblem still to be seen upon his breast,_ and whyfore so far from home_?

The cell held few other surprises. The air was't putrid, the floors clotted with fungus, and stalactites of reeking grey mucous hung pendant from the ceiling o'erhead. Threats, cruel laughter, and sounds of torment, muted and distorted, carried 'round corners and echoed through the labyrinth of passageways. 'Twas bit one of many cells in the Sorcerer's underground precincts. Helluin regarded it all with boredom; compared to the dungeons of the Barad-dúr, 'twas a virtual jolly haven, and to her, the spell-strengthened bonds were feeble at best.

At times Helluin marked more clearly the muttering of the guards on their rounds, Yrch who incessantly carped and cursed as they were wont to do. To these sporadic utterances she harkened close, and from them she had gleaned some valuable tidings. For example, the strange elleth was't held in a similar cell down the hall, and thither she awaited the Ringwraith's torments, or so the guards gloated. Occupying a cell all their own were Helluin's weapons…fearsome and accursed, the Yrch claimed. The longsword and _mithril _Ring spoke ceaselessly, threatening the Ringwraith and promising him a second death. (Indeed they contested for the honor 'twixt the two of them). He lorded and blustered o'er them while'st remaining loath to touch them. Anguirél he feared to even draw from her scabbard for he had felt that blade in his flesh aforetime at Pelargir. The Sarchram he had bound with an enchanted chain and locked to the wall of the cell, so terrified was't he of it. But more important, rumors of the future ran rampant amongst the soldiery, with anticipation growing by the moment. The Nazgûl had sent word to his master that he had taken prisoner Helluin Maeg-mórmenel and Beinvír Laiquende, and he awaited orders for their disposition. Unspoken was't his anticipation of great rewards. Speculated upon was the expectation of great rewards for the soldiers as well. In light of this, a spontaneous feast was't underway in the tower above. Many bottles of a tar-colored and acidic wine had already been consumed and those on duty had all the more reason to grumble at their exclusion from it. With certainty, Helluin knew that the brawling would commence ere long. No few would be discovered upon the morrow, absent from duty and slumped in dark corners with knives in their backs.

_The Wraith shalt be fortunate to preserve his un-life when Sauron discovers his mistake,_ Helluin gloated in a dark revelry, _and his soldiers shalt be fortunate to preserve their miserable existence. Such art the wages of failure in the service of the twice-defeated Master of Lies. Indeed should the chance arise, I shalt taunt him o'er the quality of his servants, for herein doth the sightless lead the thoughtless._

Similar things did Helluin think and mutter as the hours passed, yet long ere dawn she discerned some disturbance approaching. Voices mumbled in the Black Speech, iron-shod feet shuffled, and steel clanked. A short distance down the hall a key turned in a lock. A cell door grated open on squealing hinges while'st dragging 'cross the floor. She heard the strange elleth cry out in fear, followed by a wheezing hack that signified the Ringwraith's cruel laughter. After some moments the cell's door clanged shut and the steps proceeded closer. Through the cracks betwixt the iron-banded boards of the door, Helluin could see the flickering light of a torch stopping outside her cell. From down the hall the Elf of Greenwood was't softly sobbing in despair.

Now the keys clanked and the lock turned. The door of Helluin's cell was't shoved open wide and a black shadow stood thither, backed by yellow and wavering torchlight. 'Twas the Wraith, accompanied by a single Easterling gaoler, so drunk as to be unsteady upon his feet. In annoyance the Nazgûl cuffed him, slamming his body against the doorframe to steady the light. A moment's flash of hatred lit the Easterling's eyes ere the fear of his master o'erpowered it and he slouched, clutching at the door post to remain still. The Ringwraith approached, striding 'til he stood but a fathom before Helluin.

"_Sí noathoch neithant estelail, melethail, a lethianail. Annathon melethril na Sauron a elu cin na dimb daerwain,_**¹**_"_the Ringwraith taunted in Sindarin, knowing the Easterling understood him not. For a moment Helluin looked up to meet his stare with dulled eyes, and then she let her gaze fall to the floor as her shoulders slumped.

**¹**(**Sínoathoch neithant estelail, melethail, a lethianail. Annathon melethril na Sauron a elu cin na dimb daerwain. _Here you will be deprived of hope, of love, and of freedom. I will give your lover to Sauron and your heart to despair_(lit trans greatest sadness).**Sindarin)

She felt the weight of his phantom glance lingering upon her, 'til with a final whisper he withdrew.

"_Im Murazor__no túreb,_**¹**_"_ he gloated. Then he turned on his heel and the door slammed shut behind him.

**¹**(**Im Murazor no túreb. _I Murazor_ _am victorious. _**Sindarin)

Helluin heard his gargling chuckle as his footsteps receded, those of the drunken guard staggering along behind, and again she was't alone in the darkness. Thus she passed the remainder of the night.

Now upon the morrow, (discerned only by the voices of different guards, for no natural light penetrated to that place), 'naught had been heard or done regarding the query of the Nazgûl for his master's orders. No word from Sauron had yet been received. Helluin regarded no news as good news, and she bided her time with her memories.

Around what she reckoned to be mid-afternoon, the shuffling steps of guards came to her ears and she marked them drawing 'nigh her group of cells. Though 'twas muffled, Helluin could hear an Easterling and an Orch arguing in the Black Speech. They sounded painfully hungo'er and mean-spirited. 'Twas little camaraderie 'twixt them, Helluin noted, wondering if one would murder the other ere nightfall.

Now first to the strange elleth did they make their way and the door of her cell creaked and scraped as it opened, just as it had the previous night. The Orch laughed cruelly as the elleth whimpered in fear. There followed a rending of fabric and more laughter from the Orch and the Man ere the door grated shut with a crash. The soft sounds of the elleth's sobs made their way to Helluin's ears o'er the renewed bickering of the guards.

_Typical,_ she thought in disgust_, no Orch can resist tormenting one helpless before him_,_ yet at the least they spent not enough time to defile her._

A moment later she heard a grunt, a gasp, and the thud of a body falling to the floor. 'Twas followed by a cackle of self-satisfied glee. Then a cell door grated open. Something heavy was't dragged within and the door rebolted.

The remaining guard's torch came 'nigh her door and a key shook in the lock. After some moments of cursing, the mechanism clicked and the door ground open. The Orch stood thither with a torch upraised in one hand, staring in at her through its flickering light, a ludicrously large ring of keys in his other fist and a malicious leer upon his features. Helluin noted that he was't scored with scars, bald, and his left eye was't cloudy with blindness, but he wore a death's head emblem in white upon his ragged brow. Perhaps this was't burnt into his flesh, perhaps tattooed, or perhaps scored thither by the touch of an acid or caustic sap, Helluin could not say which, but from the collar about the crudely drawn skull's neck, she knew he was't charged as a captain of the gaolers of Dól Gúldúr. Too, had there been any remaining doubt in her mind, the death's head claimed him as a servant of the Ringwraith.

Now first the Orch tossed to her feet a damp loaf of grey bread crawling with weevil larvae, as if she had any chance of reaching it with her wrists manacled tight to the wall behind her. Then, having done his assigned duty of feeding the prisoner, he chuckled and advanced into the cell for some sport, which was't also understood as his privilege. Ominously Helluin noticed that he pulled the door well 'nigh fully shut behind him, save that he was't careful to prevent the lock from sealing him in. Right up to her he came, and thence, (after jabbing the torch 'twixt the collar bone and neck of the cadaver beside her so that it did duty as a macabre sconce), stood before her and examined her closely with his one good eye. His eyelid twitched with a nervous tic from the effort.

Helluin looked from him to the loaf upon the floor, then back to his eyes as she twisted her lips in disgust.

"Skrat! I'd gut myself ere eating that loaf of wormy mule dung too," the Orch agreed, hawking up a mouthful of black phlegm and spitting it square upon the bread. He chuckled, and then without warning slammed his fist into Helluin's stomach.

Now while'st the blow drove the air from Helluin's lungs, impacting the _mithril_ mail 'neath her cloak broke his hand, and the snapping of a bone in his palm was't like a song to the dark Noldo's ears. Had she not been seeking to regain her breath, she would hath laughed hearty as he howled in pain, cursing and clutching his damaged paw.

"Vuk! Djit!"

"A gaoler of more wisdom would hath known his prisoner better," she finally chided a moment later, "and a bully of more perfect cowardice would hath assured his own safety ere bringing harm to another."

At this the Orch straightened up and regarded her silently for a moment, his rage vying with his struggle to understand her words. Again he spat, as if to clear his head, and he came forward again, though more warily now. With only a grunt to satisfy the pain of his broken hand, he used both to clumsily explore 'neath her cloak, finally rending it to reveal the armor she wore. Upon seeing its form and complexity, an even more evil grin shaped his lips, as though some contemplated malice had driven all recall of his injury from his mind. Predictably, Helluin thought he intended to steal her armor.

Now as hast been told aforetime, when Gneiss son of Gnoss had wrought that armor in Khazad-dûm 'nigh on 4,200 years aforetime, he had shaped it as a short battle dress, with ring mail and plate o'erlying a thin shift and the whole o'erlain by a leather dress of the same fashion. To this had been added greaves to protect Helluin's shins and full coverage of her arms and shoulders, but the lower portions of her upper legs were bare. Thither, to Helluin's complete surprise, did the Orch slide his hands, stroking upwards upon her inner thighs.

"Know my prisoner better I will," he rasped with foul intent, cunning but twisted, "and become a wiser gaoler in the doing." He feared 'naught, for his prisoner was't shackled wrist and ankle and could neither strike nor kick him in protest. He grasped a handful of smooth, warm flesh and squeezed, while'st chuckling at his own joke. "Nazgûl-glob won't even notice if you're not completely…fresh."

Helluin, far more used to blatant attacks wherein jagged blades whizzed past her head and bloodcurdling screams rent the air, was't now for several heartbeats paralyzed with amazement. So alien to her was't this form of assault that she had to blink herself to comprehension of it. Indeed it took her some moments to actually realize that she was't being molested by an Orch. By then his hand had cupped her and was't massaging her roughly 'neath her skirt. Similarly, it took him several moments to mark that the heat of her body had risen to an unnatural level that had nothing to do with his stimulations.

A moment later he shrieked and jerked away his hands. His reeling mind marked both the blazing pain and the foul-scented tendrils of smoke that arose from his charred flesh. He leaped back from her, howling curses, eyes starting from his head, and thus he failed to hear Helluin's cold chuckle or see the predatory look upon her face. Failed too did he to mark at first the rise of light in the cell by which he could now clearly view the nature of his marring. For one moment he stood thus, petrified before her and oblivious to all save his shock and his pain. Now no longer did the flickering of the torchlight cast dancing shadows upon the walls. Thither was't all eclipsed in a leaping radiance of silver and gold.

In that moment the hallway outside Helluin's cell was't lit by the glare-slivers of a flare that escaped through the cracks 'twixt the wooden beams of the door. 'Twas like unto a blinding flash of lightning, so brief as to be missed in the reflex blink of the eye, yet so intense as to burn its image upon the eye's canvas. Within the cell the Orch fell back, blackened upon his fore-side, with roasted orbs staring sightless at the ceiling and his silhouette preserved as it were a shadow cast upon the scorched wooden planks of the door. His steaming, flash- roasted corpse fell lifeless upon the floor.

Into the hall strode Helluin a moment later, her figure still illuminated by the aura of Light, from the midst of which blazed her fiery blue eyes. Behind her the fungi upon the cell walls was't blackened and crisped, the feeble chains and manacles partially melted. In one hand she carried the gaoler's ring of keys. Her face was't set in a mask of rage.

"_Drego nin, Tindomul…tulon anich,_**¹**_"_ she hissed.

**¹**(**Drego nin, Tindomul…tulon anich. _Flee me, Tindomul…I come for you. _**Sindarin)

Past cell after cell she openly stalked, no longer with thought for stealth, lighting her own way with the _ril_ projected from her _fëa_. Her wrath now ruled her for 'twas time for vengeance. For the blighting of Laiquadol, the disenfranchisement of the Onodrim, the darkening of Calenglad, and her own captivity woulds't she demand redress. 'Neath the tower of Dól Gúldúr Helluin sought for two things only; her weapons and her enemies.

When she first came upon the latter of these, another Orch gaoler, she stove in his skull with an armored fist, cackling with glee as she did so. The sounds of the confrontation and the unfamiliar Light banishing the familiar darkness as it passed through the hallways alerted those unfortunates held prisoner that something unexpected went forth. They took up an ever growing tide of cries and curses, questions and demands, calling desperately for tidings, for aid, and for freedom. She ignored their howling. In those moments she even forgot the strange elleth from Greenwood. Indeed Helluin harkened not at all, listening only for two voices, neither born of a living throat.

"_Sínoye. Mirima ni,_**¹**_"_ a familiar voice rife with irritation demanded from a cell she was't just passing upon her right.

**¹**(**Sínoye. Mirima ni. ****_I am here. Free me,_** Quenya)

Helluin's head whipped 'round to an iron door and she hauled out the ring of keys. After several tries she felt the lock turn and she shoved open the door. Thither 'cross the cell was't the Sarchram, bound to the wall by lock and chain, the cirth upon it edged with a wavering red-orange fire. Helluin groaned. She could clearly feelits spitting rage. Upon a table in the room's center lay Anguirél, still in her sheath, and Helluin's daggers.

"_Nia lúas!_**¹**_"_ The blade groused from within its scabbard. Helluin rolled her eyes and lifted her sword.

**¹**(**_Nia lúas! _About damn time!** Sindarin)

"Hush, thou," Helluin admonished, "and aid me in freeing thy sister."

The blade hissed its approval as it cleared the sheath, and Helluin slashed it in a whistling arc that clove the chain holding the Sarchram to the wall.

"And now for blood," Helluin said in a menacing whisper, to the enthusiastic agreement of both her weapons as she replaced them upon her belt.

So 'twas thus that Helluin came fully armed from the dungeons of Dól Gúldúr, and all such minions of the Sorcerer who beheld her fell to their doom. She slew them to a one. Well 'nigh two hundreds died at her hand in that afternoon's rampage, for never did she cease as she advanced through the tower. 'Twas an orgy of bloodletting in which she reveled, bespattered and well 'nigh hysterical. Orch and Man she hewed mercilessly, counting them not in her wrath, but ever seeking for their master. Yet he whom she sought that day she never found, and though she laid low his companies, (at least all those who fled not), the Ringwraith had fled indeed. Toward sanctuary beyond the Sea of Rhûn he escaped, with the fading sound of Helluin's maniacal laughter dogging his way.

Back into the east did Tindomul escape, as a dark vapor and a shadow 'neath the trees, and coming eventually to his master, reported his ill-fated imprisonment of his Lord Sauron's greatest enemy. For his part, the Abhorrent One couldn't decide whether to punish or reward his Ringwraith. Murazor had done well enough in capturing Helluin and Beinvír. Yet he had failed utterly in holding them. Somehow, the Lord of Lies was't hardly surprised, though he was't truly impressed that the Úlair had taken from her the Sarchram and her sword. In the end, he neither rewarded nor punished his Nazgûl, deeming the final outcome an instructional draw. The loss of o'er two hundred soldiers bothered him not at all. Bought and spent, ever had the lives of such been cheap.

One thing further did Sauron gain from Murazor's report. Helluin had come thither to Dól Gúldúr seeking for the source of the spreading Shadow. She was't, therefore, the emissary of choice for the allies to the west. Yet more, she had come with her beloved, (or so Sauron thought, having indeed no reports to the contrary), and what had happened once could be cultivated to happen again, for did not history oft repeat itself? 'Twas not a simple melodic phrase the building block upon which a song, even The Song was't raised? Upon some future day, he would himself go to the tower upon the Bald Hill, and thence like a spider, await the falling of his prey into his web. He dwelt then upon that possibility to the exclusion of 'aught else, and the reek of his concentration arose from his vaporous being, more putrid than the most foul of bowel gasses, for to torment the Úlairi to whom the sense of smell is paramount. Had Sauron been aware of such, he would hath chuckled.

_Well done, my sniffling hound,_ The Dark Lord finally whispered to his Ringwraith's mind, _now attend me, for soon as the Elves reckon it, thou shalt take up a new campaign upon my behalf, and thou shalt lay low for all time the western kingdom of Men._

Now when all was't done and no more enemies came forth to meet her, nor coulds't she find any living foe within the tower, Helluin sat down in the Sorcerer's chair. Thither she took her ease and collected her wits for a time in his study. The threat of Dól Gúldúr she coulds't now report dispelled and more.

_Yea, my lords and ladies,_ she gloated to herself as the incandescence of her aura faded,_ 'twas indeed one of the Nine as thou suspected. Nay, my Lord Elrond, 'tis no need of thy coming against him now. He is fled, his thralls freed of their torment, and his soldiery slain. All that's lacking is the return of the Enyd, though mayhaps some amongst thee might take it upon themselves to go thither and raze the tower._ _Yea, I am wholly safe and unharmed. So too is that impetuous subject of the Woodland King, whom that stupid, sniffling shade proclaimed to be my beloved Beinvír…hahahaha._

'Twas only after some further moments of mirth that Helluin fell silent. Thranduil's subject…she groaned. To her chagrin, Helluin had remembered the strange elleth only now. She had been held in a cell just down the hall from her own, Helluin recalled. 'Twas time again to venture into the dungeons. Indeed there were many captives languishing thither to be freed and many less fortunate prisoners to be buried. With a sigh, Helluin got to her feet and began to retrace her steps.

**To Be Continued**

**Acknowledgments**

The author wishes to thank Elven-Cat2 for the numerous and laudatory reviews on a number of chapters. Thanks also for your suggestions. I will continue to try to answer your questions since you've taken the time to write and spent the time to wonder about them. I hope you continue to enjoy my story.

**Translation Notes**

**¹**(**Sínoathoch neithant estelail, melethail, a lethianail. Annathon melethril na Sauron a elu cin na dimb daerwain. _Here you will be deprived of hope, of love, and of freedom. I will give your lover to Sauron and your heart to despair_(lit trans greatest sadness)._ Sí_**(here) + **_no-_**(be) + **_-atho-_**(fut v suff) + **_-ch_**(2nd pers sing subj pro suff, _you_) + **_neitho-_**(deprive) + **_-ant_**(past v suff) + **_estel _**(hope) + **_-ail_**(genitive agent, _of_) + **_meleth_**(love) + **_-ail_**(genitive agent, _of_) + **_a_**(and) + **_letho-_**(free)+ **_-(i)an_**(object suff) + **_-ail_**(genitive agent,_ of_). A**_nno-_**(give) + **_-atho-_**(fut v suff) + **_-n_**(1st pers sing subj pro suff, _I_) + **_meleth_**(love) + **_-ril_**(fem. agent) + **_cin_**(2nd pers sing poss pro, _your_) + **_na_**(to) + **_Sauron_** + **_a_**(and) + **_elu_**(heart) + **_cin_**(2nd pers sing poss pro, _your_) +**_ na_**(to) + **_dimb_**(sadness) + **_daer_**(great) + **_-wain_**(superlative suff).Sindarin)

**¹**(**Im Murazor no túreb. _I Murazor_(**Adûnaic translation of _Tindomul_)**_ am victorious. _****_Im_**(1st pers sing subj pro, _I_) + **_Murazor_** + **_no_**(be, am) + **_túr_**(victory) + -**_eb_**(-ous) Sindarin)

**¹**(**Drego nin, Tindomul…tulon anich. _Flee me, Tindomul…I come for you. D_****_rego-_**(flee) + **_nin_**(1st pers sing dir obj pro, _me_) + **_Tindomul_** + **_tulo-_**(come) + **_-n_**(1st pers sing subj pro, _I_) + **_anich_**(prep with 2nd pers sing pro, _for you_) Sindarin)

**¹**(**Sínoye. Mirima ni. ****_I am here. Free me. S_****_íno_**(here) + **_-ye_**(1st pers sing subj pro, _I_) + M**_irima_**(free) + **_ni_**(1st pers sing indep subj pro, _me_) Quenya)

**¹**(**_Nia lúas! _About damn time!** N**_ia_**(about) + **_lú_**(time) + **_-as_**(n intensive suff) Sindarin)

7


	95. IN AN AGE BEFORE Chapter 95

**In An Age Before – Part 95 **

**Chapter Fifty-nine**

'_**Nigh Dól Gúldúr – The Third Age of the Sun**_

From the dungeons of Dól Gúldúr had Helluin released a pathetic company of Men and a few Elves. _To describe the flight of the liberated prisoners as like unto a flock of bats out of Udûn would hath been apropos…a fitting simile indeed,_ Helluin thought…_all save one at least_. Last to be freed, the elleth of Greenwood clove to her like a tick. Worse, she had voiced so many questions that the dour Noldo felt herself ill-used and almost regretful for freeing her. _Whyfore hath I become such a subject of analysis_, she carped to herself, _and by one possessed of such unnatural enthusiasm? No carcass hast ever been more thoroughly picked o'er by any vulture, and this Inthuiril is so perky that I am tempted to gouge her with a dagger simply to distract her for to hath a moment's peace._ Helluin had rolled her eyes so oft o'er the last day as to be sea sick.

"And so if 'tis as thou say, the Light of Laurelin and Telperien shone forth so strongly as to pierce the Calacirya like the beam of a great lamp, how then indeed did thy folk withstand such brightness, day in and day out?"

Helluin turned to look at the young elleth beside her, who was't staring up at her, eyes beaming with curiosity, and awaiting some nugget of wisdom from her mouth. In well 'nigh each waking moment there had been a question, some insightful, others merely ignorant. Helluin took a deep breath and counted again, _er, tad, neled, canad, leben, eneg, odog, toloth, neder, cain…_

"First of all, none then knew 'aught of day in or day out, for neither sun nor moon had yet been seen," the Noldo began, "and such Light as came of the Trees appeared an object of reverence, a gift from the Valar, and it infused our vision just as abiding in that land infused our _fëar_ with a spiritual illumination. Bright 'twas brighter in those days and dark yet darker than now, save at some few times of greatest peril. Philosophically, 'twas a metaphor made visible, or so I took it. That such now shines not 'tis pursuant to the Fading of all things upon Arda, I wager."

Helluin chanced a glance back at Inthuiril and what she saw set her again to counting. _The light of another question doth rise to illuminate her tongue…ah well. _

"I see…and what, pray tell, is a metaphor?"

At this, Helluin finally threw up her hands and sat down on a boulder with a groan. They were passing that place whereat she had spied the dying Onod, and long aforetime been discomfited by the night-rising of the earthworms. Of course Inthuiril sat down close beside her, perhaps thinking that her question had given the Noldo need for pause and now some great and informative philosophical discourse was't forthcoming. She focused all her attention and listened closely. Helluin was't counting again.

After taking some moments to calm herself, Helluin turned to Inthuiril and the Nando leant forward, harkening to her with earnest concentration.

"Inthuiril, thy questions art mostly good," Helluin began, "and to understand such as hast come to pass aforetime is a noble cause. Yet I am no lore-master. Indeed I feel myself as one saddled with an insatiable hunger not born of my own stomach, as I seek to assuage thy curiosity. Pray bide thy time somewhat, I beseech thee. Neither of us is likely to expire ere the morrow. Give thyself pause to digest what thou hear, and for myself, a moment to enjoy this wood. See, thither flies a bird, the first I hath seen since I came. Thither doth the leaves hold themselves again with some semblance of hope, as they did not aforetime. The forest recovers apace from the predations of the Sorcerer and his ilk. Rejoice now in the renewal of thy home."

Helluin had followed the path of the bird's flight with her eyes and had marked that 'twas indeed a mockingbird. Its presence brought to her the memory of the generations of such creatures who of old had learnt the birdsongs of Valinor and served Lord Oldbark as heralds.

Inthuiril had fallen silent for a time thereafter, contemplating their surroundings as Helluin had bidden her to do. The bird flitted from branch to branch o'erhead and was't soon joined by another. A breeze tickled the leaves and it smelt to her of a rebirth in her woodland home. In that moment it seemed poignant and possessed of an import beyond the mere rustling of the canopy. Hither was't a metaphor for the vitality that the Sorcerer and his minions had sapped from southern Greenwood. She was't surprised at how quick the recovery had begun, and yet more surprised at how the knowledge of it made her heart sing with hope for the future.

"I hath realized that in the past I hath been preoccupied with the here and now," she mused, "and this to the exclusion of the greater panorama of my life. I hath perhaps failed to appreciate much aforetime and taken for granted much that was't good, even as the days darkened."

Helluin nodded her agreement. Few knew better than she how easy 'twas to be caught up in the tenor of the times or the heat of a moment. Passion oft forced aside the longer viewpoint and demanded focus rather than philosophy.

"Of late hath I sought only after the satisfaction of my curiosity, and this atop my concerns for the safety of my home. I hath spent little upon appreciating that which I hath already…and perhaps that which could endure."

To this assertion, Helluin had begun nodding in agreement, but at Inthuiril's last words she quirked her brow in puzzlement. Seeing her reaction, the young elleth sighed, and after a moment's thought continued.

"Though thy travels hath taken thee into many lands, for me, no land is so sweet as the Greenwood. Hither hath I passed well 'nigh all my days, and these for the most part in peace. Yet more, I hath passed such in the company of many dear to me, 'neath the rule and with the esteem of a great king. Many, I wager, hath not such fortune. Perhaps 'tis my youth, but the troubles of late hath taken on a greater weight to me for having not been experienced aforetime. Even so, I hath allowed them to lead me astray. I hath withheld tidings from my king which I should hath presented long aforetime, and I hath spent less upon serving him than upon serving myself. Even now I am away without leave, forsaking my duties and taking my trail without a word to any, selfishly, I deem it now. I hath surely disappointed he who hast aforetime shown me only trust and honor. I hath acted no better than a child."

Helluin met Inthuiril's eyes, and in them she saw realization and remorse.

"Straightaway must I return, to answer for myself and beseech my lord's pardon for my conduct," the young elleth declared sadly.

Helluin nodded her agreement, hoping that Thranduil might be still as wise and fair as he had ever been aforetime. She thought of her lover's belief that the King of the Wood had pardoned her in his heart her for her part in suggesting the path that had led to his father's death…had forgiven her what she herself could not forgive.

"Keep hope, Inthuiril, for thy king is a good and just lord. I shalt accompany thee far north, yet to thy kingdom I shalt not come. But perhaps thou shalt meet thither my beloved, Beinvír Laiquende, and if so, then I pray thee ease her mind and heart with news of my well-being. Thou hast many fresh tidings to tell thy king and the news is good. Perhaps even it shalt aid thee in pleading thy case."

Inthuiril sighed and nodded to Helluin in agreement, and Helluin noted that 'twas as if her mention of the Green Elf's name had invoked some fair enchantment upon the wood, for now a single millipede crawled into sight from 'neath the leafmould. From somewhere in the canopy behind them, the mockingbirds burst into song.

"Come," said Helluin, "let us make our way thither, for many days' walk it shalt be and the sooner started the sooner done."

Inthuiril rose to her feet, and marched thereafter mostly in silence, her questioning stilled and her focus turned within. So they passed a fortnight, making their way north through the wood.

'Twas 23 Nínui, (February 23rd), when the two elleth came 'nigh the Men-i-Naugrim at last. Thither Helluin stayed them, and she spoke to Inthuiril.

"Now our trek is 'nigh its end and hither shalt we part company, for thou art surely sought, but from thy realm I hath exiled myself, just as I did aforetime from the Blessed Realm 'cross the sea. I pray thee, say thus unto Beinvír should thou see her, 'Helluin shalt meet thee upon the Men-i-Naugrim 'nigh Anduin whereat aforetime did we part'. Say 'naught of me to any other if thou can'st so contrive. Fare thee well for now, Inthuiril."

The Silvan Elf nodded and with a gulp, steeled her resolve for to cross the road back into her own land. She looked to the woods north of the Dwarf Road that she knew so well, and when she turned back to bid Helluin farewell, there was't 'naught to be seen of her. The dark Noldo had vanished. For some moments Inthuiril searched the forest with all her senses, but found no trace of the dark warrior. After a few moments she gave up. Finally with a sigh she rose and slipped into the realm of Thranduil, her king.

Helluin watched her go from her perch some fathoms up a tall pine. From there she also espied a company of sentries of the Woodland Realm, approaching stealthily and making their way towards the disturbance whispered at by the trees. She waited 'till she saw Inthuiril taken, and then after the company had passed, she made her way westwards, parallel to the road.

Now upon the morn of 27 Nínui, (February 27th), Helluin came from the forest into the lands of the Vale of Anduin, wherein the wood gave way to brush and field. To the west she marked the distant sound of hooves and a faint cloud of dust risen from the passage of the riders. The Men of Barlun's clan rode not, nor were the footfalls those of Elven horses. They were headed towards her position down a path from the river that joined the road making its way south, and so she awaited their coming, silent and unseen. Ere they came abreast of her she knew their count and tongue. A dozen North Men she reckoned, riding in a loose company, with one scouting somewhat ahead and two trailing behind the van. 'Twas the way of riders habitually wary and in no hurry, yet moving south with some purpose.

_Now what, pray tell, would they want, hither to the west of the forest? Such Men make their homes for the most part 'twixt Carnen and Celduin. Rarely doth such ride west of the Greenwood. Huh, _she thought, _almost I can smell them already o'er the scent of their horses for they hath been long in the saddle, no doubt_.

'Twas soon enough that they trotted into view. North Men indeed; golden haired and bearded, and dressed in tunics of coarse cloth and pants of leather. Fur capes flowed behind them, and helmets of steel covered their heads. Heavy gauntlets they wore, and sturdy boots as well. Helluin noted that the Men in the main company were armed with spear, sword, and axe, while the scout and rear-guard carried short recurved bows and swords thrust through their belts. She nodded to herself in approval. Their gear was't well-worn and utilitarian, functional but unadorned, and suited to a fast moving company of hunting warriors. _Not stag or boar doth they seek, I wager,_ though Helluin,_ rather they art girded for skirmishing with small companies of foes. _Such a riding would be deadly to enemies traveling afoot.

Now the riders came abreast of her hiding place, and when they had just passed, Helluin strode from cover and out onto the path. The last Man had gone not ten yards ere the dark Noldo hailed them.

"What foes doth thou seek so far from home, O riders of the north?" she called out in the tongue of the Men of Rhovanion. "What errand calls thee hither?"

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Notes:** _Once again I would like to acknowledge my reviewers, Elven-Cat2 and Failivrin of The Rondothlim. Obviously some readers like the story more than others, LOL. Love it or hate it, it's good to know that the story is being read and that it's provoking comments. __I have expressed my appreciation to both parties in private messages, as I will endeavor to do with all future reviews, rather than answering them in the text. Rarely, I will respond to a review on the review page when I believe the response will benefit other readers. _

_I would also like to take this opportunity to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. I've been unusually busy of late, mounting a dinosaur for a new natural history museum in Qatar, but that project will be finished soon and I expect to return to regular updates. I thank you for your indulgence._


	96. In An Age Before Chapter 96

**In An Age Before – Part 96 **

_I'm going to try something on this chapter...bear with me for the test, lol._**

* * *

**

At once the Men turned their mounts about and they came to face her with lowered spears and knocked arrows from some three fathoms. Grim of face they were, but noble too and therefore unwilling to blindly attack one alone who stood forth and greeted them openly. Though they quickly noted that she was't armed, no weapon had she drawn. Still they were wary. The wood lay not a furlong east and many could lie hidden thither, or 'twixt the path and the trees. Their eyes flickered quickly o'er their surroundings, searching for threats.

"I am alone," she declared, "and though I am armed, I seek no conflict with thee. Rather only would I know what enemy thou hunt in this land that I too must travel."

Now although Helluin's speech was't antiquated to their ears, still they could understand most of what she said. Long aforetime in the days of Rómendacil I, their forefathers had learnt the Adûnaic tongue of the Men of Gondor, but they had blended it since with many words of their own ancestral speech**¹**. This language was't also akin to that of the folk of Barlun and other Men of Rhovanion, yet 'twas spoken with a more rolling lilt.

After a few more moments of searching their surroundings, a rider advanced until his horse stood but a fathom from Helluin and he looked down at her with careful scrutiny.

"Fey or fell must thou be to make thy way hither alone," he began, "for we hath slain some bands of Yrch 'nigh the river of late." After a moment's pause he sighed and told her, "We hath come hither after Easterlings took prisoner one of our lord's sons, and this not a mile from our homes 'nigh Celduin where it turns east to meet Carnen. Two seasons now hath we sought for him, first south, then northwards 'round the whole border of the wood. Only some lone homesteaders we hath met in this land, yet they hath heard 'naught that could aid our search. Know thou 'aught of our lord's son, perchance? Lundhini is his name, a sturdy warrior and an able horseman."

Helluin thought on the Man's words and an unsettled feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. But one North Man only had she seen of late…the dead warrior who'd shared her cell in Dól Gúldúr.

"Bore he a white token of a horse's head o'er his heart?" She asked.

The riders harkened to her words and the leader nodded, saying, "Aye, so he always did. Thou speak as one who hast truly seen him. Whither thence, and when?"

Helluin sighed. Little did she relish the bringing of such ill tidings. _Am I ever fated to bring word of death to kith and kin? Shalt yet another kindred name me Mórgolodh?_

"I fear thy lord's son is dead indeed, for he whom I saw was't a prisoner of the Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr…of late I shared with him a cell."

Dark muttering greeted her words and a nervous stepping of horses' hooves as the beasts sensed their masters' upset. The Men soothed their horses, for a moment knowing 'naught else to do. Again 'twas the leader alone who spoke.

"Art thou sure of thy memories? Could thou hath been mistaken 'neath the duress of thy captivity?"

Despite the doubt in his words, Helluin could see the failing of the Man's hope, for Dól Gúldúr stood but 45 leagues southwest of the East Bight, that indent in the Greenwood's eastern boundary wherein many of the North Men dwelt. The captured Man could hath been dragged to the Sorcerer's tower within a week of being taken. He could hath been dead for the next 25 weeks. Recalling the decrepitude of his carcass, the timing seemed about right to Helluin. She nodded 'yes'.

"I am well convinced of it," she said with certainty, "given the length of thy search and the condition of his remains. Still, we shared no words 'twixt us for he passed long ere my coming." Here Helluin bowed her head a moment in respect, then added the only positive tiding she could. "If it ease thy mind, thou can tell thy lord that he was't buried 'neath a cairn at the foot of Laiquadol 'nigh many other of the Sorcerer's victims."

The leader nodded to Helluin, then turned his mount and rode back to his company. For some time they conferred amongst themselves. Though they spoke softly their words came easily to Helluin's ears. They were debating their course, with the leader asking the counsel of the riders. Last he asked for a vote and ere he even finished speaking, the gauntlet of a young rider shot upwards. _No doubts trouble his mind, I wager,_ she thought. _He seeks adventure, though it makes longer his road. _The leader tallied up the show of hands and then turned his steed back to where the Noldo waited. Helluin had seated herself, but rose when the leader returned.

"Our thanks for thy tidings, friend, and yet more for laying our lord's son to rest. May he find peace even in so strange a place. Now ere we turn for home, we should greatly like to see his cairn. Whither should we ride to find it? The name of Laiquadol and the east side of the forest art unknown to us. Might we prevail upon thee to lead us hence?"

Ere he finished speaking Helluin was't already shaking her head 'no'.

"Hither I await the coming of my beloved and thereafter I must report to the council of lords who sent me hither. I am not at liberty to guide thy company," she said. The lead rider sadly nodded in understanding; a vassal's first obligation was't to their lord. So it was too with him. Seeing the Man's disappointment and still desiring to help, Helluin continued. "If thou ride on south for 75 leagues thou shalt come to that place whereat the verge of the wood bends furthest west. Turn then due east and make thy way through the forest for another 10. Before the rising height of Dól Gúldúr thou shalt find a new burial ground beside a streambed. The westernmost grave lies 'neath a cairn of twelve stones, and thither, I believe, lies thy lord's son."

The rider gave her a grim smile, but a smile nonetheless. He placed his right hand o'er his heart and bowed his head to her for a moment.

"My thanks again, friend. Thou hast done right by the fallen and given us aid. No more can we ask. Indeed we art already in thy debt. If ever thou should come amongst our people, thou shalt find welcome. My name is Ërlick. Ask after me. Fare well."

With a nod he turned his horse back to his company and the riders made ready to depart south. Helluin watched their faces as they turned back to their trail. Some were sad for the loss of their lord's son. Some were only determined to complete their mission. Upon the face of one of the rear guard, the young rider who had been first to raise his hand, she saw the merest hint of a smile as he nodded to her ere spurring forward his mount. His eyes were bright with intelligence when they met hers. Curiosity and warmth too she saw, and a million questions unasked. Twice ere riding out of sight, he looked back to catch a glimpse of her.

_Not so unlike unto Inthuiril is that one,_ she thought, _and all the better that he be on his way. I think my patience would run thin ere I gave my first hundred answers._ Yet even as she thought it, Helluin wondered at the similarity 'twixt the Nando of Greenwood and the young North Man. He would die ere reaching a third of Inthuiril's present age, and yet the twain had much in common.

"Huh," she muttered absently to herself, "In this time Man becomes like Elf and Elf like Man…both curious and headstrong and seeking after adventure."

"He is no doubt much as thou once were, _meldanya_…say, 9,000 years ago," came the melodic whisper at her side.

For once even Helluin started and jerked 'round. An arm's length away stood Beinvír, a wide grin upon her face, her eyes glinting with mischief. The Noldo barely had time to take a breath ere the Green Elf leapt into her arms and captured her lips in an enthusiastic kiss of greeting.

With Inthuiril's return she had taken her leave of King Thranduil and hastened west to meet her beloved. The king's worry and aggravation at Inthuiril's disappearance had been tempered by his rejoicing, for his hope had faded daily during her absence. As a result he had questioned her thoroughly, almost as a father would, at once disapproving and yet relieved to find her safe. At once he had sent for the Green Elf, for her beloved, he quickly learned, had won his beloved's survival.

The young elleth's tale, related in a sober and remorseful rede, had disturbed the Green Elf greatly. Rather than simply seeking to confirm the identity of the Sorcerer, Helluin had gone on a rampage, slaughtering his minions and chasing him from the Greenwood. 'Twas a fair resolution that had delighted the Tawarwaith, but had left Beinvír horrified. Helluin had allowed herself to be disarmed and taken captive. She had allowed herself to become a prisoner of the Ringwraith.

Beinvír was annoyed on several counts, not the least of which being that Inthuiril had insinuated herself into Helluin's mission, thereby jeopardizing her safety. No less, Inthuiril had gone where Beinvír had agreed not to go, against her own wishes. So she had left the Nandor of Greenwood, taking her leave as the first stages of the courtship of the king and his errant scout began and making her way swiftly west. Yet the Green Elf set aside her displeasure for the moment; first things first.

Being again with her beloved and seeing her safe brought her joy far outweighing her irritation. She could wait for some later moment to berate her lover. Life was long.

Now after their reunion Helluin and Beinvír made their way 'cross Anduin at the ford of the Men-I-Naugrim, but not before coming upon one more surprising scenario. 'Twas some 12 leagues upon the Dwarf-Road 'twixt the forest and the river, and the North Men had passed but a furlong west of the wood. Thus, well 'nigh 36 miles lay from the verge of the Greenwood to the banks of Anduin. Upon this way the two ellith trod at a comfortable pace, sharing their tales of the days since their parting.

By late afternoon they had come some four leagues, and thither they spied a thin column of smoke threading its lazy way up to the sky from a spot nearby to their south. T'would hath been easily taken for a hunter's camp, save for the foul, acrid scent borne to their nostrils by a weak breeze. No hunter would hath tolerated so foul a fire in a land where wood was't plentiful. 'Twas as if for spite's sake someone had kindled the rags worn by plague victims, still fetid with their pus. Helluin cocked a brow in disgusted curiosity while'st Beinvír simply grimaced in disgust.

"What goes forth yonder, I wonder?" The Noldo asked when she caught her beloved's eye. She returned her glance to the mysterious tendril of smoke.

_Oh no,_ Beinvír thought, _fortunate we shalt be not to spend this eve ensconced 'nigh that foul smolder. A grand cure for my appetite this night it shalt no doubt prove. Yet I can tell she is curious as a weasel 'nigh a hen house. Well, thither goes supper. Oh joy._

"I should be in no hurry to discover it, for 'tis surely nothing wholesome, I wager,"the Green Elf suggested as she wrinkled her nose. "I deem we would be better served by keeping to our way,"she added hopefully.

Despite the Laiquende's protests, she knew that Helluin would scarce be satisfied 'til the secret of the wretched fume was't known. Sure enough the dark warrior started off the road towards the source of the stench. With a groan of resignation Beinvír trailed along behind her partner. _'Tis fouler with each stride closer we come, and no good can come of this, _she observed, noting an undertone of something akin to burning hair.

"'Tis not so bad," Helluin muttered shortly later as if to convince herself. By then the Green Elf had wrapped a fold of her cloak 'round her head and looked somewhat like a bandit.

Ere finding the source of the reek they marked the joining of their way with a small path headed west to the banks of Anduin, and this they followed, for it seemed to lead directly toward their goal. Along the way both marked the hoof prints in the dirt they trod, all headed in the opposite direction. _Were we going hence after the riders I should be all the happier, I wager,_ the Green Elf thought with a glance in the direction they had gone,_ but alas, 'tis not our road…ahhh well. I suppose we shalt come to the end soon enough._

After another half-hour of walking the two stood 'nigh a scene of pathos, every bit as insulting to the eye as to the nose. 'Twas the aftermath of a skirmish, with such signs to be seen as would leave little doubt of the tale. A band of a dozen and a half Yrch had been set upon and exterminated by the riders, their corpses piled and burnt afterwards. The firing had been incomplete due to their hasty piling of an insufficient quantity of fuel, leaving a smoldering, reeking heap of bodies more scorched than consumed. Beinvír stood shaking her head. Helluin dropped to one knee for a closer look at the spoor.

"'Tis surely the work of those North Men I met," Helluin muttered, "for they said as much. Yet whyfore were the Yrch hither, I wonder?"

The oldest tracks she marked came from the south. Perchance in flight from her slaughter at Dól Gúldúr? She followed an newer set of footprints recording the flight of a set of small feet that ended in a puddle of blood. Her eyes narrowed.

The Green Elf watched as her partner crab-walked 'cross a few yards of disturbed soil 'til she came upon the signs of a struggle. Bare feet and steel-shod prints converged, whereat some trampling could be seen, and thence alone the shod prints departed. She traced the footprints to where they led from the clearing. As if mesmerized, the Noldo followed the tracks into the taller grass, finding a footpath of recently bent blades that led a scant dozen yards toward the shore. What she found thither stopped her in her tracks and she warned off the following Laiquende with a gesture. Then she stood and fought to keep from gagging.

'Neath a copse of stunted trees were the remnants of a crude camp and many footprints of Yrch. O'er a fire pit was't a simple forked stick supporting a heavy branch, driven into the ground and sharpened at the other end to form a crude spit. Upon the ground nearby lay many blackened bones, childlike in size, and a partially eaten carcass. 'Nigh the fire stood a crude wooden post sharpened to a jagged point, and impaled upon it was't the head of Bobo Fallohide, the late Mayor of Fur'long. The Yrch had captured, killed, and feasted upon some of the Periannath.

"If 'tis 'aught that I despise about the dead, 'tis that upon them no vengeance can'st be visited," she grated out softly through gritted teeth as she fought to suppress the rage growing inside her. Though they were ignorant and insular and painfully rustic, Bobo's folk had also seemed utterly harmless. They had deserved not such a violent and demeaning fate. After some moments with head bowed she turned away, and coming back to where Beinvír waited said, "We art done hither, I deem. Let us put some distance 'twixt ourselves and yonder scene of calamity."

_And if 'tis indeed from my massacre of their kind in Tindomul's tower that these fled hither, then I hath promoted this heinous deed myself, and any good I hath achieved hast turned to darkness unlooked for, _she thought bitterly as she looked off into the south from whence the Yrch had originally come, perhaps making their way north to the precincts of Mt. Gundabad.

The Green Elf looked curiously at her partner's grim face, but nodded in agreement with her words. She had no desire to remain 'nigh a battle ground, nor anywhere with such a rotten smell.

Now in the days that followed, the two ellith made their way west. They forded Anduin and then crossed the Hithaeglir in peace, making their way o'er the high pass to the headwaters of the Bruinen and Imladris.

During that journey they spoke much of their individual adventures. Helluin was't astonished that she'd inadvertently saved the life of Thranduil's beloved, while'st Beinvír was't astonished at her partner's telling of the extermination of the servants of the Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr, for Inthuiril had still then been captive then and had seen 'naught but the aftermath when Helluin freed her.

'Twas as if the Valar had acted through Helluin to twice save the lot of the Nandor of Greenwood, Beinvír thought, ridding them of their greatest threat and preserving for their king a chance for a love that might assuage his lingering sadness o'er the loss of his father. In this the Green Elf perceived that Helluin had made some restitution for her part in the death of Oropher, balancing somewhat Thranduil's sorrow with the potential for joy. She pointed this out to her partner and the Noldo had nodded her head in reluctant agreement. Still, the dark warrior could not pardon herself for her part in the earlier losses of the Nandor of Greenwood.

_The love I feel for thee erases not the loss of my brother upon the Helcaraxe so long ago, _she thought as she watched her beloved hike uphill ahead of her_. Thou hast my heart forever and thou art a part of my fëa, yet Verinno is still lost. So too shalt Oropher be always lost to Thranduil though Inthuiril bring his heart joy for an Age._

Upon 12 Gwaeron, (March 12th), Helluin and Beinvír greeted the first of the guardians of the Hidden Valley and announced their return to Imladris. Straightaway they were conveyed to the council whither awaited Elrond and Galadriel, Celeborn, Celebrian, and Glorfindel, Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir. Helluin and Beinvír were seated and given refreshments, while'st following words of welcome, the others eagerly awaited their rede.

"My Lords and Ladies, I hath somewhat to report," Helluin began. "Thy suspicions of the identity of the Sorcerer hath proven true. Indeed 'twas Tindomul, Lord of the Ringwraiths, who held Dól Gúldúr. Thither he did much evil to the Greenwood and its folk."

The lords Celeborn and Glorfindel nodded sadly, accepting Helluin's words. Galadriel and Elrond however looked deeper, as by the power of their Rings they were wont to do.

"How stands the wood now, Helluin," the Lady asked, "for thou hast clearly said, _'twas Tindomul…who held Dól Gúldúr,_ as if his abiding thither was't a thing past."

"Indeed 'tis just so," the dark warrior answered. "No longer doth he darken the wood. I challenged him and he fled back into the east…back to his master's spirit, I wager, thither to endure his derision and such penalties as Sauron shalt visit upon him for his failure. Tindomul is gone indeed and his soldiery slain or fled. Alas the Onodrim hath been driven hence and none save Thranduil's people guard now that forest, and they only its northern precincts…for a time."

To this the Princess of the House of Finarfin sighed. Though she had never truly understood Lord Oldbark she had come to esteem him and recognized what valuable allies the Onodrim had been. Thranduil's folk could no more hold back or defeat Sauron and his Ringwraiths than they had been able to conquer his other minions during the War of the Last Alliance. They were simply not possessed of the prowess at arms to prevail in such a match. 'Twas clear to her that Helluin believed the same.

With foresight she discerned that on some day to come, when the Lord of Mordor again challenged the well-being of Calenglad i'Dhaer, some more formidable force would be needed to counter that evil. Her first intention was't to somehow persuade Helluin and Beinvír to take up that duty, as they had at her request so long ago in Lebennin. Empowered by Nenya, she knew more of what had come to pass than had been spoken. A glance passed 'twixt herself and the Lord of Imladris.

"He fears thee, doth he not," Elrond asked the warrior, his mind as sharp as the Lady's. _Indeed his master fears thee too if past deeds art to be believed,_ he thought.

"He fears her and with good reason," Beinvír told them with certainty. "Indeed at each meeting he hast lost…first his pride at arms, then his life, and twice at the completion of his tasks. I should think Sauron know'th better than to count upon him to withstand her."

To this the counselors nodded in agreement.

"'Tis moot, I wager," Helluin said as she sipped from a cup of wine. "He hast departed and his fortress lies deserted. T'will be some time ere he come'th again to occupy yonder tower, if ever. I wager the forest shalt hath such peace as Thranduil's folk can'st maintain, for all who stand to oppose them now art some bands of Yrch and a few Eastern Men."

Again the counselors agreed, though most could also see that situation as being temporary, and indeed not long at all as the Elves reckoned things. Helluin understood their concerns, for she held the same suspicions herself and she had caught the glint in the Lady's eye which she had found troubling. Ere they could dwell longer on that train of thought, Helluin spoke again.

"Doth any hither know 'aught of the Periannath?"

As she had hoped, her question provoked 'naught but blank stares. Elrond in particular sought her eyes with a look of curiosity. Helluin nodded to herself and proceeded.

"Upon the eastern shore of Anduin some leagues south of the ford of the Men-I-Naugrim I hath learnt of a folk unknown to me aforetime," she stated, watching the surprised reactions of the others and silently congratulating herself. "They art of a rustic sort, given to agriculture and ignorance, passing their days in sod huts and being of little account in deeds, but having no evil in them. They art known to the Settlers of the Vale of Anduin, though perhaps not for a long time past. Indeed 'twas some of these Periannath who first marked the flight of the Onodrim and the _mórgúl_ of the Sorcerer."

All eyes were upon Helluin now with undivided attention and she thought this good. Even Galadriel was't focused upon her words to the exclusion of 'aught else.

"Truth be that they hath long denied the possibility of the existence of Eriador," Helluin reported, straight-faced, "believing instead that Anor doth crash down upon the western slopes of the Hithaeglir at each eve and 'naught hither could survive the scorching."

At this Elrond gaped, while'st the others suppressed their chuckling. Beinvír rolled her eyes, aware that her partner was't dramatizing her portrayal. A quick look passed 'twixt them, and a few silent and apprehensive words.

_My love, I feel a plot a-hatching, _Helluin warned, giving a moment's flick of her eyes to indicate Galadriel, _and if we art not to inherit yet another realm, then a distraction we must accomplish._

The Green Elf was't so shocked at this that she gasped and then covered her lapse with a bite into a seeded cake. Her eyes fairly started from her head.

_O say 'tis not so, I beseech thee, _she protested, _think thou truly that we shalt be saddled with a Lebennin 'neath the trees? Another thousand years? I could not bear it._

_Indeed 'tis just so if I read aright my suspicions. Doth not history and the phrases of the Song repeat themselves?_

To this the Laiquende groaned despite her full mouth. All had passed 'twixt them in a heartbeat only and Helluin resumed.

"When I met the Periannath I spoke with their mayor by the grace of Barlun, a Man of the Settlers who provided me with an introduction. Were it not for his intercession I should not hath met them at all. Indeed already had I passed them by, discerning not their presence, for they hath a stealth after their own fashion, not studied such as the Green Elves, but rather I deem, deriving from some close and native relation to the land. 'Tis effective all the same. I felt nothing of them aforetime, saw 'naught of their hamlet 'till upon it, and heard nothing of them afterwards. For all this they art certainly mortal. A strange folk indeed and our lore should know of them, ere they art all eaten."

The last sank the gathering in to a tide of excited questions and 'twas long ere they were answered to the satisfaction of all. By then Beinvír's stomach was't growling and Helluin had quaffed her 6th cup of wine. Thence to add further to their distraction, the Green Elf presented her tidbits regarding Thranduil and Inthuiril. The story warmed many hearts with hope, for the king of Greenwood's Nandor had been morose and somewhat withdrawn for the last thousand years, ever since his peoples' losses in the War of the Last Alliance. 'Twas then that the council decided to adjourn for supper, and whatever intentions Galadriel had held for the two ellith was't not presented on that afternoon.

_And that is a very good thing, _Helluin remarked to her beloved as they made their way to the dining hall. _I deem she feels the time plentiful wherein to hatch her plot, for all agree the Greenwood shalt not be in like jeopardy for many years. Therefore after a meal and some rest I wager we should be upon our way…sometime ere dawn._

_Well ere dawn, I think,_ the Green Elf agreed. _Thou hast already done more upon their behalf than was't asked of thee. I deem there art others who should hear 'aught of our journey…Dálindir and Círdan amongst them._

To this Helluin agreed heartily, and after their evening meal they retired to their room but long enough to repack. Thence, mantled in the stealth of Beinvír's people, they took their leave of the Hidden Valley with none the wiser, for even the sentries of Imladris could not mark the passage of two cloaked with such complete silence. And having thus escaped further enlistment in the guiles and wiles and the politics of that time, Helluin and Beinvír disappeared from the counsels of the Wise for many years.

**To Be Continued**

**¹**(**_These Northmen were descendants of the same race of Men as those who in the First Age passed into the West of Middle-earth and became allies of the Eldar in their wars with Morgoth._** UT, Part Three, II, CaEatFoGaR, (i), pg 288, -JRRT, and the related footnote 4 on pg 310, **_The Northmen appear to have been most nearly akin to the third and greatest of the Peoples of the Elf-friends, ruled by the House of Hador._** –CT. According to Robert Foster in TCGtME, Rohirric was related to the language of the Men of the Vales of Anduin and was descended from Adûnaic. One may recall that at their first appearance in Beleriand in the First Age, the people of Marach, (later the House of Hador), were originally akin in speech to the First House, the House of Bëor.)

**Author's notes: **Now did any of the readers look for this footnote or remember what it relates to? I'm testing the placement of footnotes since there's been so much vehement opposition to placing them in the text.

Once again I'd like to acknowledge and thank my reviewer, Elven-Cat2. Thanks for taking the time to write!


	97. In An Age Before Chapter 97

**In An Age Before – Part 97

* * *

**

**Chapter Sixty**

_**Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now in TA 1015 Ciryaher took the crown of Gondor as the 15th king of the line of Anárion and when, in 1050, he decisively defeated the Haradrim of Umbar, he took the name Hyarmendacil I, which signified "South-Victor". This great king ruled for 134 years, and in his time the realm of Gondor extended its borders, west from the Sea of Rhûn to the River Gwathlo in Eriador. From Celebrant in the north, south to Harnen, and thence along the coast so far as Umbar did Gondor hold sway, and 'tis told that in those days the princes of the Haradrim lived in Osgiliath as hostages against the conduct of their fathers. The grim fortresses of Durthang, Cirith Ungol, and Nargil far to the south were garrisoned to keep watch o'er the empty land of Mordor.

In the splintered north kingdoms of the Dúnedain, Mallor was't crowned 3rd king of Arthedain in TA 1029.

Thither in Eriador, in the very same year that Ciryaher o'ercame Gondor's enemies in Umbar, a smallish group of settlers first entered the lands of the northern Dúnedain, though none marked their arrival at that time, nor for many years thereafter. These immigrants were the tribe of the Harfoots, cousins of the Fallohides whom Helluin had met in the Vale of Anduin, but these tended to be yet slighter in stature and swarthier of complexion. 'Twas later ascertained that they had held some familiarity with the Naugrim of Khazad-dûm, for they later claimed to hath lived long in the eastern foothills of the Hithaeglir and they had come o'er the Caradhras Pass. 'Twas perhaps the Dwarves who had finally convinced them that Eriador indeed existed and was't bountiful, rather than a scorched wasteland. So, as was't their habit, upon reaching Eriador the Harfoots set about farming, and quietly grew in numbers as they spread westwards.

In TA 1100 the Wise again met in council in Imladris, for new reports of a dark menace in Calenglad-i-Dhaer had been heard, and once again these reports centered upon the dark fortress of Dól Gúldúr. At that time the Council suspected that the malefactor was't again Tindomul or another of the Úlairi, creeping back to Greenwood to again take up his evil. Messengers were dispatched from Imladris and they rode the tracks 'cross Eriador seeking for Helluin and Beinvír, for now Galadriel deemed the time for her appeal to them ripe, yet the riders found them not, nor any rumor of them. Disappointment greeted the errand riders' return and no decisive action was't taken at that time. Instead, the Wise chose to wait and watch. 'Twas o'er 200 years ere they learnt more.

Now in the years that followed, Celepharn ascended the throne as the fourth king of Arthedain. This came to pass in TA 1110. His counterpart in Rhudaur ruled a realm containing many crude Hill Men, cousins of the Dunlendings who dwelt further south, and unknown to him, a growing number of Periannath. Rhudaur included The Angle, that rolling land south of the Ettenmoors 'twixt Mitheithel and Bruinen, and thither came, (as hast been said aforetime), the Harfoots in TA 1050 and the Fallohides in TA 1150. These latter crossed the Hithaeglir north of Imladris just as Helluin had recommended, yet such was't their stealth, indeed their paranoia, that they passed the Hidden Valley unmarked by the Elves. Indeed it may also be true that the Hidden Valley was't simply too well hidden for them to find, or they may hath shied away from an abode of strangers as 'twas their wont to do. Due to the renewed darkening of the Greenwood, both groups had earlier crossed to Anduin's west bank, but this had not sufficed to give them safety. Finally they had fled their homes in Rhovanion.

Also beginning in TA 1150, a third group of Periannath began to make their way into Eriador. These were the Stoors, and they followed in the footsteps of the Harfoots, entering Eriador by the pass o'er Caradhras. Like the Noldor long aforetime crossing the Helcaraxë, the Stoors lost many to the daunting and frigid heights, yet by drawing upon some native reserve of hardihood, they persevered and survived. Like their more northerly cousins, they settled quietly into the landscape.

In those days one further succession is noted. In TA 1149 Hyarmendacil I, the "South Victor" of Gondor, passed on his crown to his son, Atanatar II, who took the name Alcarin, the "Glorious". Atanatar was as dissolute as his father had been resolute. He cared nothing for Gondor's navy. During his reign the realm's sea power was't neglected and its captains disregarded, much as the Guild of Venturers had been 'neath the rule of Tar-Ancalime in Númenor. Little more did he care for the kingdom's armies, being concerned only with his ease and splendor. Maintenance of the borders fell mostly to the captains and lieutenants whose lives were at stake on the frontiers and whose sense of duty was't instilled by nobler family traditions. 'Twas widely said of Alcarin's reign that, _'precious stones are pebbles in_ _Gondor for children to play with'_**¹**, and all took note, friend and foe alike.

**¹**(Quote fr TLoTR, Appendix A, GatHoA, pg 1021).

With Atanatar II the decline of Gondor began in earnest. Perhaps most egregious was't the cessation of the watch upon the Black Land, a vigilance which was't never resumed. Yet in the following years, Alcarin did Gondor a more visible disservice. Two sons he sired, both of like temperament unto himself. These were Narmacil I, who died in 1294 as the 2nd childless king, and Carmacil who ruled after him, having usurped the crown from his brother's appointed heir and regent, his own son, Minalcar.

During the 155 years of neglect 'twixt the passing of Hyarmendacil I and the ascension of Minalcar, but one action of note was't taken against Gondor's enemies. In TA 1248 Minalcar defeated and drove the Easterlings from their strongholds east of the Sea of Rhûn. For this he took the crown in 1304 as Rómendacil II, "East Victor".

A statesman too was't Minalcar, for he favored his North Men allies and sent his son as ambassador to the King of Rhovanion. Thither, in the court of Vidugavia, Valacar of Gondor fell in love and married Vidumavi, Princess of Rhovanion. In so doing he introduced a strain into the royal house that came not of Númenor. His son and heir Eldacar, being but half-blooded Dúnadan, focused the hatred and racism of his people, and upon Valacar's death in 1432 civil war broke out in Gondor. Kinslaying, until that time a particular curse of the Noldor, was't taken up by their distant relatives, the sons of Elros. Yet ere that time much else came to pass in Eriador and in Rhovanion, and thither led the adventures of Helluin and Beinvír.

Now following their departure from Imladris in TA 1002, the two ellith made their way west, and in the forest of Central Eriador 'nigh the peaceful waters of the Baranduin, they came upon the company of Dálindir. With him as ever were his general, Tórferedir, the lieutenant, Gwilolrán, Celegaras the scout, and the ever-friendly Gérorn Warm was't the welcome they offered their two wandering friends. The King of the Laiquendi harkened to Helluin and Beinvír's tidings with great disquiet, and indeed the only good word was't of the budding love of Thranduil and Inthuiril.

"So Helluin, that doom of which thou once spoke draws 'nigh, and short to us shalt the time be ere all lands fall 'neath the Shadow of the Great Enemy once again," Dálindir said, "or so it shalt seem to us. Alas, for the doom that Isildur wrought."

"So it seems indeed, O King," the dark Noldo said. "Yet again shalt we be called to defend home and heart against the darkening of the coming days. Alas indeed for Isildur and his house. Alas for Lord Oldbark and Calenglad."

"And so as we resolved aforetime, our readiness and our watch upon these lands shalt we maintain, and perhaps our hope too, for what else can'st we do?"

"I know not," Helluin answered, "for the Fading continues as 'twas fated to do."  
For some moments the company silently brooded upon the days to come. The certainty that Sauron would arise again filled them all with foreboding. Having seen proof of his continued malice in the deeds of Tindomul left them no doubt that it would come to pass. It would be only a matter of time.

"_Taur nín, er tula_**¹**," Tórferedir reported, tilting his head to the west.

**¹**(**_Taur nín, er tula._ My King, one comes.** **_taur_**(king of tribe, _ar._) + **_nín_**(1st pers sing poss pro, _my_) + **_er_**(one) + **_tulo-_**(come) + **_-a_**(3rd pers pres indic v suff) Sindarin)

Shaken from his contemplation, Dálindir asked, "_Er gwaith vín?_**²**"

**²**(**_Er gwaith vín?_ One of our folk? _er_**(one) + **_gwaith_**(folk) + **_vín_**(3rd pers pl poss pro, _our_) (gen construc, _one_ _of our folk_) Sindarin)

"_Baw_." (**_baw,_** (no) Sindarin)

"_Feir_?" The king asked. (**_feir_**, (a mortal, _indef n._) Sindarin)

"I am not sure," the King's Hunter reported with a shrug. He seemed surprised at his own uncertainty. All stared at him, turning hence their senses whither he canted his head.

"I wager 'tis no mortal who comes 'nigh," Helluin said with certainty ere she moved quickly forward towards a figure only barely to be seen approaching 'twixt the boles of the trees. 'Twas little enough to see even with her flawless eyesight, save the movement alone, for the newcomer was't clad in grey as a wandering Sinda.

While the Laiquendi bent their bows and set an ambush, the dark warrior rapidly closed upon the interloper, and though she did so in utter silence, she drew no weapon. Beinvír trailed behind her, cloaked in the complete stealth of her people. They had come 'nigh three fathoms from the walker when he raised his head and eyed them directly from 'neath his hood without searching. 'Twas as if he had marked them from the first.

"So, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, would thou deny thy welcome to an old friend?"

Though the Green Elf was't at first surprised to be marked so easily, the Noldo dipped her head in respect and then smiled her welcome from the heart.

"Mae govannen, Olórin," she said in greeting.

Beinvír came up beside her and bowed to the old man. To her surprise, he dipped his head in return. When he looked back up and met her eyes, 'twas with a gentle smile. The Green Elf was't charmed by his manners and complete lack of pretension, and she smiled warmly in return. He came close to them and whispered in confidence.

"Pray call me Mithrandir as I hath come to be known in Eriador, my friends. I deem the fewer who know 'aught else, the better."

They nodded, for to them, the Maia's request carried the weight of a command.

"T'will be as thou wish, old friend," Helluin assured him.

"Then shalt thou introduce me to those hidden yonder?" The wizard asked, and though 'twas 'naught to be seen by eyesight, he indicated the company hidden amongst the trees ahead with a cant of his head and an arching of one bushy eyebrow. "I deem it a proper and fitting courtesy to come before the kings of these lands. Already I hath met Beleg of Arthedain and Mallor, his Heir. Círdan and Elrond, of course, I hath oft held counsel with, but the King of the Laiquendi hast been more difficult to meet."

So 'twas thus that Mithrandir at last made the acquaintance of the King of the Green Elves, a thing which his hosts in Mithlond and Imladris had failed to do in all their years upon the Hither Shores. More surprisingly, he was't accepted amongst that secretive folk so easily that even Helluin was't astonished. Perhaps to those who had been ever upon the Hither Shores his veiled Light, inherent in those come of the Immortal West, soothed their spirits and belayed any suspicions. Perhaps it drew them to him, just as the promise of the Light of the Two Trees and the Bliss of Aman had once done for all the Eldar. Perhaps too 'twas the virtue of Narya which he bore. Yet for whatever reason, Dálindir and his company named him a friend ere their first day together was't done.

Now for his part, Mithrandir had claimed to be only a wanderer and an enemy of Sauron. He did mention holding counsel with the lords at Annúminas. So naturally the Green Elves assumed him to be an emissary from Arthedain, from the court of Mallor, though he never claimed any office. Still he appeared as a mortal to their eyes, and being a friend of Helluin and Beinvír, and certainly no Dunlending, they assumed he was't of Númenórean descent. He never dissuaded them of this for it served his purposes.

They found him curious concerning their history, of which little was't known in Imladris or Mithlond, and authoritative upon points of lore regarding the Noldor, Sindar, and Edain. He was't sharp of mind, direct in speech, and sincere in his enmity for the Dark Lord, yet his animosity was't tempered, (as Helluin's was't not), and he showed sympathy for their plight. On that first day he shared much unknown to them in counsel. Yet more than these things, when in his company all felt an uplifting of their spirits and an increase in their hopes for the future. Without consciously marking or understanding its source they felt a subtle inspiration. 'Twas the Influence of Narya, the Red Ring of Fire.

Late in the night, as the Laiquendi took their repose, Mithrandir came to Helluin and Beinvír where they sat 'nigh the fire sharing tea, and after accepting a warm cup, sat and did what Galadriel had failed to do. He enlisted them in a mission for the welfare of the western lands.

"Well, my friends, we art again upon the threshold of a door long open, and before us lies another chance to be rid of the Shadow," he looked at them carefully o'er the rim of his cup. "Yet such chances art built as one doth build a sturdy wall, one stone placed with care atop the one below. So too the events of this Age shalt be; one deed built upon another while'st the Enemy seeks ever to upset that work with the strategies of his malice."

The two ellith nodded in agreement. His words were clear to them as they might not hath been to mortal ears, seeming more oft a riddle with meaning obscure.

"As thou say," Helluin replied, "each deed sets itself upon those already done and paves the foundation for those yet to come. Already that foundation is long a-building, with the loss of the One Ring and Sauron's survival. A great stone the Dark Lord set by driving hence the Onodrim from Calenglad. Another was't laid in the taking of Laiquadol and the building of Dól Gúldúr. I hath done what I could to undo it ere the mortar set."

"So I hath heard tell from Elrond," he said, nodding. "Gallant was't thy assault upon the Nazgûl. Gallant too was't thy rescue of Thranduil's beloved. Now too I hath heard of these Periannath, and of the North Men thou met. I deem they shalt each play many a part in the days to come, for east of Hithaeglir, Gondor shalt not stand ever untouched. Many wars the southern Dúnedain shalt fight in defense of the western lands. They shalt hath need of sturdy allies."

"Aye," Beinvír agreed, "and we hath already seen 'aught to presage their decline…cats and queens possessed and war mongering kings the foremost."

The Wizard raised a bushy brow in curiosity, but he deigned to pursue those tales.

"Aye, many signs art to be seen, no doubt, and much needs doing, now and in the days to come." He looked down at his wrinkled hands and with a sigh continued. "I find myself limited in this body," he said, "yet this burden hast been decreed for me. Even so there is much to be done and the days pass."

The two Elves quickly looked past him at each other.

"Helluin," he said, drawing back her attention, "one thing that must somehow come to pass is the migration of some houses of North Men. From their lands 'nigh Celduin and Carnen they must make their way to Rhovanion. Yet I hath work too that demands my presence in Eriador," he shook his head in frustration. "The north is weak and grows weaker through dispute. I fear for the Dúnedain of Arnor and the House of Isildur."

Helluin cast her eyes down and watched her toes scuff the leafmould. A mission had been set before her at the request of an immortal spirit of Aman, and though she doubted that Olórin would stoop to command her, she felt his need almost as if 't'were her own.

'_Tis the influence of his damn Ring…I just know it. Yet how am I to deny his request? Foresighted is he and he begs my aid in time of need. And his cause is just. He seeks to build a foundation for the future, and woe shalt come to us if that foundation lies not sturdy upon the day its walls must stand. I must accept his task._

When she looked up again her blue eyes met his sharp glance and she nodded her head. Beside her, Beinvír watched the exchange but said 'naught, neither yea nor nay.

"I do not ask this lightly, my friend," Mithrandir softly said, "yet too, 'tis known to me that thou was't offered the friendship of the captain, Ërlick. I urge thee to him ere he pass." With a sigh that spoke of sympathy the Maia said, "The life-days of Men art short to our eyes, Helluin; those of the North Men yet the more than those of the Men of the West. Make thy journey while'st thou art still recalled by living eyes and memories, rather than only in the songs of their sons. The father of the fallen thou buried is a great chieftain. Seek for him, Helluin."

Helluin turned to her beloved and they spoke in silence, eye to eye.

'_Tis a grave mission Mithrandir lays upon thee, meldanya, _the Green Elf said.

_I know, and yet I see the necessity of it. On some day to come the House of Anárion shalt need succor and aid against their enemies, for Sauron shalt inflame all the East against them. I must go thither._

_And I with thee, for whither thou go I shalt go as well. 'Tis not to battle, nor to the lair of the Shadow that we make our way, but rather to those who hold thee in esteem. The threat is much less than when thou went thither, alone, to the Sorcerer's tower._

_Indeed so, anamelda. 'Tis decided then. We leave on the morrow. _

The Green Elf nodded in agreement, happy not to hath needed further arguments, and Helluin turned back to Mithrandir.

"In the morn we shalt take our leave. If it be our fate then we shalt meet the North Men and urge them to remove west, to the Vale of Anduin."

Mithrandir nodded in appreciation of the soulmates' aid. No others upon the Hither Shores could he hath approached with such hope for success. Since the Westward March so long before, few enough of the Noldor had ever ventured east of the Hithaeglir, save during their prosecution of the War of the Last Alliance. None knew its lands and peoples as did these two ellith. Nor would any others hath been so swayed to take up his mission by that combination of understanding its need, readiness to act, and reverence for the West. Had not Helluin already twice accomplished the will of Ulmo unquestioned?

Yes, Mithrandir knew of Helluin's actions. 'Twas a part of his duty to know the heartbreak of Ilúvatar's children, and through the Ages they had been great indeed. But especial to him had been that primal pain that had assailed his old friend at the loss of her brother upon the Helcaraxë. From afar he had felt her helpless pain, her self-condemnation, and the resulting efflorescence of her hatred, first for the House of Feanor, and thereafter for Morgoth's lieutenant, Sauron. The dark rage that had arisen within her was't foreign to her nature and foreign to the original nature of the Eldar…and she had ever been the Noldo most unaltered by the developing cultures of the Eldalië in Aman. Her outlook, her desires, and her deeds had been Helluin's alone. Whither her darkness might lead, none could say. So he had feared for her, having only his faith in the Song for comfort. 'Cross all the years since the Exile of the Noldor he had been aware of her to some degree, looking upon her with his Sight from time to time, and ever hoping that someday she would find peace.

_Ahhh my friend, _he thought as he watched the two ellith make their way east in the next morning's growing light, _a fool's errand 'twill seem to thee for many lives of Men, yet thou shalt hath thy success eventually, though the fruits of thy labors now shalt not come to ripeness for 'nigh on 1,500 years. I hope thou hast patience._

"_Anta mí estel ar sére, Heldalúne Maica i móremenel, ar as aistassenya,_**¹**_"_ he whispered softly to their retreating backs

**¹(_Anta mí estel ar sére, Heldalúne Maica i móremenel, ar as aistassenya._ Go in hope and peace, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, and with my blessing. _auta-_**(go away) + **_mí_**(in) + **_estel_**(hope) + **_ar_**(and) + **_sére_**(peace) + **_Heldalúne Maica i móremenel_ + _ar_**(and) + **_as_**(with) + **_aista-_**(bless) +_ **-sse**_(n on v suff, _-ing_) +**_ -nya_**(1st pers poss pro suff, _my_). Quenya)

Standing beside him Tórferedir canted his head. The Quenya was't strange to his ears.

"_Sui anirol maer tó thioant, meldir eden nín._**²**_" _

**²**(**_Sui anirol maer tó thioant, meldir eden nín._ As well-wishing that seemed, my new **(male)** friend. _sui_**(as) + **_aníro-_**(wish) + **_-l_**(act pres part v suff, _-ing_) + **_maer_**(good) +_ **tó**_(that) + **_thio- _**(seem) + **_-ant_**(v past tense suff, _seemed_) + **_meldir_**(m. friend) + **_eden _**(new) + **_nín_**(1st pers poss pro, _my_) Sindarin)

"So 'twas indeed, my friend," the Wizard answered the King's Hunter, "and few need such wishes more." He continued watching Helluin and Beinvír until they were out of sight amongst the trees.

Maia though he was't, Olórin knew not all that was't to come. Deep though his knowledge went, many were the days of doubt ahead with many deeds unseen. Yet he had glimpses of many things far away; of places, people, and actions to come, hinted at, half-remembered, or half-forgotten. The cloak of flesh he was't now compelled to wear shrouded the clarity of his mind and his understanding of Manwë's will. 'Twas tiresome and weighed heavily upon him with the possibility that some small miscalculation could deliver the Mortal Lands to ruin. _Sometimes no clearer is my Sight than 'twas aforetime 'neath the shadowed fume of Ungoliant, and my course and counsel no surer than that of the Valar upon that day when the Trees died. Alas for our plight and the plight of all free folk. There is so much to accomplish and so little time, and here am I, still learning the ways of my own new self…the limitations of the flesh._

Olórin turned to the King's Hunter. He had much to discuss with this general and his king. Into their lands would soon come a small and inconsequential seeming folk, yet a hazy imperative compelled him to arrange for them some protection. From amongst their number, upon some long awaited future day, would come great deeds. Alas, of that time no more could he remember or see with certainty, save that the road ahead was't hedged by a dark name. The death of a little one then would seal the fate of all who came after, and when he contemplated failure his spirit quailed in fear. _No! Such must not come to pass! And the days in this land shalt soon darken. Aye, they shalt be dark indeed. One mischance shalt spell the ruin of us all, when the Kingdom of Angmar arises._

**To Be Continued**

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Thanks to _**Elven-Cat2**_ for all the reviews...I appreciate your steadfast interest in this story and your patience awaiting this current update. The adventure continues...stay tuned. -_Phantom Bard_


	98. In An Age Before Chapter 98

**In An Age Before – Part 98

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**Chapter Sixty-one**

_**Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now Helluin and Beinvír made their way through Dunland to the Vale of Anduin by way of the gap to the south of Methedras that lay north of the Ered Nimrais. Thither, in an Age before, they had made their first acquaintance with the Drúedain, but none of that wary kindred did they see now. This surprised them 'naught, for indeed but twice in all their years had they held converse with that race of mortals. So they came, after a journey of three fortnights, to the land of Calenardhon which was't the westernmost province of the realm of Gondor.

Thither, in the Tower of Angrenost, which later Men called Isengard, Helluin had long aforetime usurped the privilege of the King's Custodian, and by enchanting both he and the garrison captain, she had used the _palantír _housed in the tower's highest room to challenge and deceived the Dark Lord Sauron ere the War of the Last Alliance.

Now she was't troubled as they approached that sheltered vale, for though the memories of Men were short-lived by Elvish standards, the Dúnedain paid more attention to their lore than most. Had Captain Barahir recorded 'aught of his visit from the two ellith back in the spring of SA 3430? His 'lapse' of conduct made such unlikely, yet who could tell? Still, 'twas o'er a thousand years past, and perhaps long forgotten. One thing was't sure; ere they traveled the lands of the southern king, they were bound by courtesy to present themselves to such agents which that king had deployed upon his western border. So 'twas that upon the afternoon of 4 Urui, (August 4th), TA 1002, that Helluin and Beinvír approached the sentries stationed at the arched gate in the ring-wall of the Tower of Angrenost and announced themselves.

"Hail and well met, noble soldiers of Gondor," Helluin called out. "We art two wanderers out of Eriador, making our way east to Rhovanion. We seek the leave of thy king's grace to travel these lands, meaning thee no harm and obeying thy king's laws."

The surprised guards had straightened and their captain eyed the two ellith with acute focus. Save for errand riders of their king or troops replacing them at the end of their tour of duty, few came thither, and strange wanderers almost never, and yet of late, these were not the first. Now though the two wayfarers standing before him were dressed in shabby, travel-stained cloaks, yet with his heart he felt a faint but uplifting aura about them. Unlike many, he made no quick or superficial judgments, but studied them until their strangeness fell into place.

"If my eyes deceive me not, thou art Elvish folk," he said with a tinge of awe as he approached. He was't of powerful build, dark haired and grey-eyed and somewhat short of stature for a Dúnadan, the top of his head being o'er a hand's width lower than Helluin's. "Thy people hath been allies and friends of the Dúnedain since the days of long lost Númenor. 'Tis the policy of the House of Anárion that thou art welcome hither, though I must confess, not expected in these latter days. Indeed none of us hath met aforetime any of Elven kind. Pray tell me thy names."

The captain had made his way close to them and now looked back and forth 'twixt the two ellith, marking their attire and their weapons. His glance settled upon the Green Elf, drawn thither almost unconsciously by her bewitching beauty.

"I am Beinvír of the Laiquendi, and my companion is Helluin of the Host of Finwe," she said, offering a smile. "Indeed we hath been allies of thy realm aforetime, for we went to war on thy peoples' behalf a thousand years ago."

For some moments the Man stood silently digesting her answer. He knew from lore that the Elves died not of old age and showed the passage of their years but little, yet to be thus confronted with such a claim was't still a shock. To hath borne arms a thousand years past could mean only the War of the Last Alliance, a page of history now blending into legend. It had been in the time of Anárion and Isildur…and Elendil.

"A dozen kings hath ruled since those days," he slowly said, "and yet thou look to my eyes as a maid of some twenty-five winters." After a thoughtful pause he added more softly, "'Tis hard indeed to fathom, the passage of such time. Still, to our allies of old the realm of Gondor extends its welcome. Thou art free to go thy way in peace."

"I thank thee, captain of Gondor," the Green Elf said, "and indeed in peace we hope to pass. May the same find thee and thy company 'neath Eru's blessing."

Now the captain, having satisfied his duty, sought to stay their departure for more selfish reasons, for since boyhood he had listened with rapt awe to the tales of his people out of the vanished years. Before him stood two who had lived those days, seen the great deeds done in that time, and perhaps long aforetime as well. Therefore he eyed the westering sun and the peaceful lands about the ring-wall of the tower. Little of interest did his post present day to day, and so as Captain Barahir a thousand years before him, he valued the presence of his visitors.

"I mark how Anor sinks now in the west and the day seeks its ending. Though 'tis but a frontier garrison of Gondor I would offer thee the hospitality of Angrenost this eve. Pray join my company for its board and take such rest as the wilderness affords not to travelers…meat, bread, and passable wine, a warm fire and ears eager for tales. I offer thee both shelter and sustenance this night. What say thou?"

Beinvír looked to Helluin with bright eyes and a warm smile. If she suspected aright, her partner would be begged for many a story ere the evening ended, and should she prove reticent, she herself would play bard as she had long aforetime in many inns and taverns. Besides, a meal and wine and friendly company for a night were not so common in their wandering lifestyle.

_The captain's offer strikes my fancy, meldis nin. We hadn't planned to walk this night. What say thou?_

_I should say that I recall that upon past times thou was't ever sorely vexed at the prospect of spending time within a tower of stone encircled by a wall,_ Helluin chided with a smirk. For a moment she held Beinvír's eyes as if weighing the pros and cons, though she had already decided in favor of humoring her lover's fancy. _I suppose t'would do no harm, entertaining these soldiers of the House of Anárion this night. Pray ask me not to sing._

With a broad smile and flashing eyes the Green Elf answered for the two of them.

"T'will be our pleasure to accept thy kind invitation, O captain of Gondor. Thy hospitality shalt be welcome this night."

The captain smiled happily and announced to his Men, "We art blessed this night with guests, my friends. Beinvír and Helluin shalt join us for such mirth as we can'st contrive after our duty, and they shalt join our board for the evening meal."

The two Elves looked at the company of sentries and saw nodding heads and uncertain smiles of welcome. Like their captain, the soldiers were oft times bored at their posting and most counted the days ere they returned to the more civilized parts of the realm. T'would be long, this last hour of their watch, ere they could relax with their visitors. In the meantime they made the best of it, gathering in a group and introducing themselves ere returning to their posts. When their watch ended they formed up and marched back to the tower with their guests walking alongside their formation, all of them looking forward to a treat. Indeed none of them had ever seen or spoken aforetime to an Elf.

Now Helluin and Beinvír were shown to a room near the doors of the tower 'nigh the rooms of the officers of the tower guard, for some few spaces were indeed maintained for guests and messengers of the king. Thither they repaired to wash and relax ere the bell summoning the companies for the evening meal was't rung.

"'Tis refreshing to be not constrained upon the threshold, nor banished to a guard house for once," Anguirél's voice commented from her scabbard as Helluin doffed her belt and set her weapons upon the bed. "T'would seem the Men of Gondor accord their arms a fitting measure of honor."

"Aye, so they do," Helluin answered. "Hither, in an abode of warriors rather than a palace of kings, I am little surprised. No soldier would set his blade amidst the elements and chance compromising its edge. In high honor doth the Dúnedain hold their weapons; weapons of far lesser lineage than thyself."

"Any weapon that serves its wielder faithfully in battle is deserving of honor," the Sarchram said. "'Tis wisdom for any soldier in his own house."

Beinvír resisted rolling her eyes as she set aside her bow and quiver and her two long fighting knives. Centuries ago she had become accustomed to her partner's weapons speaking their peace, though she found them somewhat single-minded.

"In Middle Earth the kings of Westernesse possessed but one blade of the highest renown, and that sword was't shattered long ago," Helluin mused, thinking of Narsil, the sword forged in the First Age by Telchar of Nogrod. That smith's other great work had been the dagger Angrist, which Beren had taken from Curufin and used to cut a Silmaril from the Crown of Morgoth in the throne room of Angband. "Alas."

Some time later the two Elves were lying atop the bed, silently staring at the ceiling, Helluin resting her mind and Beinvír searching hers.

"Helluin, doth 'aught seem familiar to thee regarding this captain?" Beinvír asked.

Helluin blinked herself back to the present and concentrated on the Green Elf's question. She scrunched her brows, seeing the Man in her mind's eye ere she shook her head 'no'. He looked nothing like Captain Barahir whom she had enchanted to sleep a thousand years aforetime in Angrenost. He didn't remind her of anyone in the armies of Gondor that she could recall during the last war either.

"Nay, I mark not any familiarity in him. Doth thou?"

The Green Elf shrugged, uncertain. For some moments she chewed her lower lip.

"I find I am unsure," she finally said. "I place his likeness not amongst the Rangers of Ithilien, nor amongst the soldiers of the Last Alliance, yet a flash of some recollection I felt at our first meeting. Huh. Mayhaps t'will come to me." Again she shrugged.

Now after a short time more a bell was't rung, summoning the soldiers to their evening mess. Helluin and Beinvír followed the instructions given them earlier and made their way to a large hall 'neath the tower. Thither were set many long trestle tables and benches whereat were seated the companies of the soldiery of Angrenost.

At his insistence the two ellith took seats flanking the captain they had met aforetime, at a table where sat he, his lieutenants, and three watches, each of a dozen Men-at-arms. In that company they shared fellowship and good fare 'till all had eaten their fill. Thence commenced the jests and jibes of a company of soldiers relaxing at their ease; conduct far less grim than in times of war. Many flagons of wine were drunk and many mugs of ale as well. Tales of past deeds were told, and from other tables 'cross the hall, voices were lifted up in song. Helluin drained her seventh cup of wine as the captain watched, and as she moved again to pour her fill, he deemed the time proper to beg a tale.

"Helluin of the Host of Finwe, my esteemed guest," he began. "I am named for Galdor, son of Hador the Golden-haired, the father of Húrin and Huor…a name greater than my station deserves, I wager, yet borne with honor for he of that distant time. Of those days 'naught but ancient lore is known to us, and yet I mark the name of thy folk, for thou art numbered amongst the Noldor, art thou not? If indeed 'tis so then perhaps thy memory stretches back unto the First Age of Middle Earth? Perchance even further still? And if so, then mayhaps thou recall the noble House of Hador?"

Helluin finished pouring her wine and then eyed the captain.

"Great indeed is the honor due thy namesake, for of him who bore it aforetime two great lineages came. Steadfast allies of my people were they…mighty warriors and enemies of the Great Enemy of the World. Alas, I knew not Galdor the Tall in his time, for my own service was't given to King Turgon of the Hidden City of Gondolin. Thither did Húrin and Huor once make their way by the Lord Ulmo's mercy and the wings of Thorondor's vassals. In those days I came forth from Gondolin but twice only, with Turgon's host in times of war. Yet upon just such a time accursed, I met again Lord Húrin, and his brother Huor as well."

For some moments Helluin's eyes were turned inwards, seeing the horror of those days afresh in her memories. It had been the fifth great battle of the First Age of the Sun.

"Truly? Thou knew Húrin and Huor in time of war?" The captain asked in amazement.

For a moment he had hoped for a thrilling story of battle, but then as he reviewed his knowledge of ancient lore the color drained from his face. Helluin regarded him silently, and as she saw realization make him blanch, she nodded. In that moment she read his heart with the sight gifted to her people.

"Aye," she whispered. "'Twas in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad; the heartbreak of Beleriand wherein many hopes of the Noldor and the Edain perished. Thither did that noble twain sacrifice themselves upon my lord's behalf, shedding their blood in the rearguard against countless hoards of our enemies and in token of things to come. In so doing they won the undying honor of my people and ransomed the hopes of all."

Captain Galdor sat silent for some moments, reflecting on the horrors and the deeds of renown that the lore of the Dúnedain still recounted. He knew enough of history to understand that much had been lost in the Whelming Of the Númenor. What remained to his generation was't surely incomplete, the tales of events shading into the uncertain haze of legend, for even to the long-lived Men of the West, a thousand years was't a long time indeed.

A few skirmishes he had fought against the Men of the South, but the battles of old had been fought against enemies he could barely imagine; _Tor, Valaraukar, Urulóki_, and the multitudinous_ Glamhoth._ To stand against such foes was't well 'nigh inconceivable to him. And save for some terrifying tales from the War of the Last Alliance, even the Yrch seemed unreal, the phantasms of a nightmare only, and not flesh and blood creatures to be found 'neath the sun and moon. Though Captain Galdor was't a stalwart soldier of Gondor, neither cowardly nor shy of battle, still thankful was't he to not face such tests.

And thither at his side sat one who had fought in those days; one who had come forth from fallen Gondolin, whose majesty was't recalled only in tales from the earliest days of the sunken Isles of Kings. More than ever did he feel unworthy of his name.

"At first I had hoped for tales from thee for to entertain my Men," he said, "yet now I feel myself shamed. I pray thee think no ill of my company on my account. I would not ask thee to relive such horrors as thou surely saw, for I hath heard that for those of the Elder Kindred, recounting is akin to reliving, for thy memories live ever undimmed within thee. I pray thee excuse my ignorance, noble lady."

Helluin shook herself free of those very memories as had begun to impinge upon her and she looked deeply into the captain's eyes. She saw sincere regret and understanding, and a sense that to this Man, the unending Life of the Eldar was't not a thing to be coveted. He whom she had known for but a few hours only perceived more deeply than many accounted wise; indeed more deeply than many a king of the Line of Elros. If anything, she recalled now the wisdom and love of Veantur, the Captain-Admiral of King Tar-Elendil of Númenor, who had been her husband for 'nigh on 400 years.

"Thou hast a thing more dear than lineage or a royal name, O captain," the dark Noldo softly said, "and if the days were such as pressed upon us so dire as in those days of old, then I would want thee beside me, to face such enemies as assailed us. In war much else besides strength of arms may decide the day, for battle is waged as much within as without. Hope, a true heart, courage and love; these count as surely as a heavy hand, for they partake of the blessings of the One to His Children.

I hath seen hosts laid low by armies who never showed themselves in battle and I hath seen companies annihilated by only one or two. I hath known a Man who defied an evil mightier than any that now exists upon Arda and even the Great Enemy of our Age was't defeated by one mortal warrior wielding a broken sword.

For my part thou hast earned not thy shame, O captain. Perchance the blood of the ancient houses of the Atani runs in thy veins, and perhaps 'tis their kindred heart that beats in thy breast. It matters not. Thou art thy own Man with thy own fate. Do 'aught as thou can in thy own time and let fear not stay thee. No one, whether Elda or Adan can do more."

Captain Galdor sat transfixed. The blue of the Noldo's eyes was't deeper than 'aught else he had seen, whether in the deeps of Belegaer or the cloudless sky o'er Mindolluin. In their depths he marked a Light that was't no reflection of the fire upon the hearth grate. It burned amidst a Darkness blacker than night. In her words he had found sympathy, hope, and absolution. What he felt at that moment was't awe, such as comes upon one in the vistas seen from the high court of Minas Anor while'st looking down upon Osgiliath in the evening, or from the high _talan_ upon the mainmast of a great ship running before a storm at sea. 'Twas a Man's confrontation with a natural power, akin to those known aforetime, but immeasurably greater. Thither did he seek for understanding of the unfathomable, as mortals art wont to do, hoping that by apprehending a timeless mystery he could touch for a single precious moment a merest wisp of the divine.

_I shalt show thee that for which thou cannot ask, for as thou hast said, my memories live undiminished within me. Harken to me now that thou know'st for what thou stands._

Then in a flashing instant Captain Galdor stood seeing through Helluin's eyes. He came upon a battle by night in a deep wood whither two warriors of Elven kind stood back to back fending off a company of Yrch. One warrior stood notably tall, crowned with hair of flaming red, and Galdor marked the cup-hilted dagger affixed to the stump of his right wrist. The longsword he bore in his left hewed his enemies with inhuman skill. The second warrior bore a sword in his right and no less skilled was't his swordplay. Many of the Glam fell before him, yet ever more came 'nigh. 'Twixt those warriors stood twin youths armed with sword and axe, and these the Elvish warriors viciously defended as if they were their sons. The Glam closed in, ever greater numbers pressing forward with malicious resolve, and the warriors barely repelled them.

Then his point of view was't moving and about him bodies fell. A swift black blade he wielded, whirling in deadly arcs about his person 'till it smoked with the black blood of the Yrch. Astonished he was't at the carnage, for never had he imagined swordplay so deadly. Amazement greeted him upon the faces of the two _ellyn_**¹**,though thankfulness he saw thither as well.No words did they speak and 'naught but the whistling of blades and the cries of stricken enemies were to be heard. And he perceived that deadly as the two warriors were, she through whose eyes he saw was't deadlier still, for she felled her enemies faster, and within her heart he felt joy and bloodlust that celebrated the slaughter to appease a burning wrath.

**¹**(**ellyn, **pl of _ellon_, a male Elf. Sindarin)

As the blade slashed yet again his eye chanced to glance above and through a gap in the all encompassing foliage he marked a patch of dark night sky. For but a moment did the vision last, of a starry canopy far brighter than any that now burned o'er the heavens of Middle Earth, and for a single instant only, perhaps as some breeze shifted aside a leaf, a star of Holy Light winked down upon him. Even from these diminished latter days he knew its sheen. _Eärendil_! No other could it be! At the sight of it his heart sang with hope to last a thousand years.

In an instant the scene changed and he was't within a great cavern, lit flickering orange by a lake of lava that flowed swift and unquiet below. From his bow leapt three bright bolts, and they struck down three foes clad in black upon the left. Ere a breath passed another three arrows found their mark upon the right, but now the enemy was't upon him.

Cold light glimmered upon their rusted blades. Three only now remained, but from them flowed a mortal terror, pressing chill upon the heart. Thither stood figures from the nightmares of his childhood, for they could be none others that the Úlairi of Sauron. And yet he felt no fear. From the _fëa_ that hosted his sight came a surge of resolve to destroy those arrayed before him. Indeed rather than terror, he felt only contempt. Then a voice cried out from his throat in words of the Grey Elven tongue, a battle cry it took him a moment to translate. _Beltho Huiniath!_ "Kill 'Em All!" The words rang out, coming alive from ancient tales of Ages past. They were known to him from lore of the days of war wherein came the might of Númenor to Eriador in the reign of Tar-Minastir the king.

In his right hand the black blade slashed and thrust as if possessed of its own dark will, while'st in his left a ring-bladed weapon parried and threatened, more feared by the Wraiths than the lethal sword. And though he faced three undead and accursed, those servants of the enemy most feared by his people, he assailed them without hesitation. Soon he came to understand that 'twas they who feared!

With a blink Helluin released him and Captain Galdor shivered, and he shook himself to recover. He knew her now by her weapons and her battle cry, which one only of the Eldar had ever uttered, ere 'twas taken up by the soldiery of her mortal allies. Yet for another reason more recent did he know her, and this was't for her weapons, glimpsed in a moment of chance upon a road to the east and south.

"For thy visions I thank thee," he said at last, "and I place thee now aright. One only came to liberate the sons of Eärendil from the sons of Feanor, and one only laid low the Úlairi in battle. One only inspired the warriors of Ciryatur upon the fields of Eriador with her battle cry long ago. And yet I know thee too from later days, for did not thou and thy friend come to Gondor in the last generation?"

Helluin thought back. In TA 870 she and Beinvír had indeed made their way to Gondor for to investigate the strange rumors surrounding Queen Berúthiel. She sighed and nodded to confirm the captain's words.

'Cross the table she met her beloved's eyes and they spoke in silence.

_The crazy cat-queen banished us from the southern realm forthwith,_ Helluin said, _and now I must wonder if her edict was't widely published and outlived her reign._

The Green Elf groaned at the memory.

_Think thou that this captain shalt withdraw his welcome, meldanya, and thereby force us to make a long journey to the north and o'er the Hithaeglir?_

_I pray such shalt not be the case, _Helluin replied. _Yet if her commands survived not in the lore of Gondor, how doth this captain know 'aught of our visit?_

To this, Beinvír could only shrug. _I deem it best to ask, for what shalt be shalt be._

Helluin nodded. Sometimes a simple plan bore the same fruit as a complex one, and with but a fraction of the effort.

"Few knew of our visit to Osgiliath," the Green Elf asked, "for 'twas of short duration. How came thee to know of it?"

"Indeed I know of it only by a chance meeting upon the road to Minas Anor," Captain Galdor said, the hint of a grin shaping his lips.

At the looks of surprise on the two ellith's faces he allowed himself a full smile.

"Nay, I met thee not myself, for I hath passed but 47 winters and thy visit was't 132 years aforetime. Yet the Men of my family hath served Gondor at arms for seven generations; indeed since the War of the Last Alliance." He chuckled ere he continued. "'Twas my father who chanced upon thee while'st walking from Osgiliath to take up a new posting in the Tower of the Setting Sun. Thither upon the road were words exchanged 'twixt he and thee." He smiled at their continued confusion.

Immediately Helluin and Beinvír replayed their recollections of their journey to Osgiliath and the dark Noldo groaned. Thither she had met and threatened a Man who had spoken ill to her beloved. Beinvír looked at the captain and her earlier feeling of familiarity made sense to her now. She could both place this captain's father and imagine Helluin's thought as well. The hint of mirth brightened her eyes.

"Take thou thy stature from thy father, O captain?" Beinvír asked.

"Aye, that I do," Galdor said, "and much else besides. Indeed of his legacy to me I doth count both my profession and my love of lore the greater. To him thy appearance presented a mystery and thereby sparked a thirst for knowledge within him that he bore even to his grave…and this love he passed on to me in my childhood."

Helluin reexamined her first impression and now recalled the other soldier with whom she had very nearly collided, the one called Basthent. He had been shorter and far more civil than his taller companion. She suppressed a sigh of relief.

"I said 'aught to him save a greeting, yet he spoke with courtesy to common strangers," she recalled.

"_Good soldier of Gondor_ thou called him," Galdor said, "and thy friend spoke to honor him before his comrade. My father recalled thy words and all that came to pass at thy meeting, and he saw thou hold his fellow soldier in thrall for to chastise him. Thy weapons and armor he glimpsed for a moment only as thou passed, yet none of this did he forget so long as he lived. Common strangers indeed!

In the years that followed he searched the records of Minas Anor and questioned the learned Men of the city until he satisfied his curiosity and knew of whom he'd met."

The captain looked on as Helluin shook her head in amazement. It had been but a small incident to her, but a life changing one to the soldier of Gondor.

"Understand, my friends, that it had been many lives of Men since any of thy folk had last been seen in Gondor. To come upon thee by chance 'twixt Osgiliath and Minas Anor was't remarkable to him. 'Twas a reminder to him of the past friendship our peoples shared; of great deeds and greater days gone by. So he learnt all he could of thee and of thy people, and of history as well. Much did he teach to me ere his passing and this learning may bear fruit in this latter time."

At this Helluin raised a questioning brow and Beinvír regarded him with complete attention. He looked back and forth 'twixt the two of them and took a deep breath. Though dressed as wayward and weathered travelers, both were beautiful beyond the most comely ladies of Gondor. Helluin was't tall and majestic as a Valier in his dreams, with chiseled features and glowing eyes so blue they seemed condensed from the very sky above, while'st within her Light and Darkness coexisted in constant flux. Beinvír was't fair of face and form, and from within her the living spirit shone forth more strongly than in any of the Younger Children. In her was't nature itself reflected, beneficent and enduring, accommodating, and yet not to be challenged. And they were ancient of years beyond the reckoning of mortals. He leaned forward and spoke softly.

"Some 14 months past I hath seen two who looked to be Men of many years. Blue robed and hooded they were, and they walked leaning on staves. I spoke to them when they passed hither upon their journey and strange did they strike me, o'erly vigorous for their ages, as though both were other than they seemed. Now while'st I felt them not evil I know not their true natures, yet perhaps thou doth know them, for were any to hath encountered their like aforetime, I wager t'would be thou."

"Whence came these two old…Men?" Helluin asked.

"From Eriador, they said, indeed from the Elf Havens upon the Gulf of Lune."

"And wither were they bound?"

"Upon wandering travels, they said, yet they were making their way well 'nigh due east, to Anduin and beyond."

For some moments Helluin said 'naught. 'Twas almost sure that the captain had met Pallando and Alatar, _in Ithryn Lúnin_**¹**.Of them she could not speak, especially to a mortal.

**¹**(**in Ithryn Lúnin, _the Blue Wizards_** Sindarin)

"I deem thee right in thy suspicions," she allowed, "and though we art come of late from Eriador, we hath seen no blue robed elders wandering the lands. If ever we come upon them, thy words we shalt recall."

Captain Galdor regarded the Noldo closely, but could discern no lie in her words.

"Fair enough then," he said at last, "but be thee ware. I wager they hath some power unknown to me and that sets me ill at ease. I pray I hath not done ill in granting them leave to travel through Gondor."

The two ellith nodded in agreement.

For some time they fell silent contemplating what mission those two robed Men might hath undertaken, and then Captain Galdor surprised them yet again.

"One thing further I would tell thee," he announced softly, a glint in his eye attesting to his anticipation of sharing unexpected tidings. Helluin and Beinvír harkened to him. "In Minas Anor is kept, amidst heirlooms and tokens of the great war, a bow and quiver that came out of the very heart of Mt. Doom."

At his words the dark Noldo gave a soft gasp. The weapon could be none other than her own bow and quiver that she had borne to her challenge of Sauron in the land of Mordor. She had last seen them fallen upon the rocks above the lake of lava where one of her foes had kicked them beyond her reach ere the battle with swords had begun.

"How came they to Gondor?" She asked in frank amazement.

"They were won from the fiery cavern by none other than Prince Cemendur, son of King Meneldil, in his youth, long ere he took the throne of Gondor. 'Tis said that he did thus in the early years of the vigilance of Gondor o'er the emptied Black Land, when the fortress of Cirith Ungol was't newly built and our patrols kept a tighter watch thereon. 'Twas perhaps folly upon his part, and yet he had heard the tales of thee and thy battle with the _Úlairi_. Thus perhaps to prove his mettle to his father who had known thee, he undertook to retrieve this token from the source of power of his peoples' greatest enemy. So 'tis that to this day, in the deep chambers of Minas Anor, there is stored that bow and quiver which thou bore to battle."

Helluin sighed. Cemendur she had never met, for he had been but 10 years of age when the war ended, but she remembered Meneldil and his bravery in battle upon Gorgoroth. He had ridden onto the great iron bridge to Sauron's door, heedless of the falling bombs from the Barad-dúr, and he had recalled his knights after the death of his father, Anárion.

"_Verily would I revel in the slaughter of all those in league with the slayers of my father," he cried out in a great voice, "yet not upon this day shalt we hath 'aught save a measure of vengeance, and this we hath already achieved. Hear me, O valiant Men of Gondor, not with such force as is marshaled hither shalt we win the gate or force the way into the Barad-dúr. Back thither hath we sent the foul servants of Sauron. To our own lines, I order thee now to retreat. Our day shalt come indeed, but 'tis not this day."_

It seemed to her that Meneldil's son had inherited the bravery of his father…though perhaps also a measure of the bravado of his uncle, King Isildur as well. Had it not been the elder son of Elendil who had once saved from the fires of Sauron's temple the fruit of Nimloth whose seedling bloomed to this very day in the court of Minas Anor? She nodded to Galdor.

"Valiant indeed was't the prince, for I recall the place whereat my bow and quiver fell," she said. "'Twas far 'neath the causeway and subject to the heats and fumes of the fiery lake. 'Tis a wonder to me that he reclaimed them and survived."

"Aye, 'twas a great deed, true," Captain Galdor agreed, "yet 'twas reckoned a great prize too; a true relic of a heroic deed done aforetime. Indeed little less esteemed was't thy bow than that of Bregor which is lost now in the deeps whence Númenor was't toppled." After a short pause he continued. "No less a wonder was't thy quiver, Helluin. And in it to this day art still three white arrows unfired, with heads of gleaming _mithril_. No one, not even Cemendur, though he became the 4th King of Gondor, dared string thy bow or fire thy arrows. I tell thee this so that should the days darken and thy need be great, thou shalt know of a weapon thou may bear again for the benefit of the free peoples of Middle Earth."

'Twas little Helluin could say after hearing those tidings save offer her thanks to both Galdor and to Cemendur whom she had never known. _And I hope not that the days shalt darken such that I shalt hath need to reclaim or bear that bow…yet war shalt come again…I just know it. I wonder, art those arrowheads still aglow with a ril of Light from the Two Trees of the Blessed Realm? And what virtue might they still possess?_

Now on the morrow Helluin and Beinvír took their leave of Captain Galdor and the Ring of Angrenost, and they made their way east through Calenardhon, fording the Onodló after a march of seven days, ere they turned their steps north. To their west the dark and forbidding shadow of Fangorn Forest lay at the feet of the southern Hithaeglir. They passed it by amidst the rolling downs of the Wold, until they came to the River Limlight upon 18 Urui, (August 18th).

**To Be Continued**

12


	99. In An Age Before Chapter 99

**In An Age Before – Part 99

* * *

**

Now on the morrow Helluin and Beinvír took their leave of Captain Galdor and the Ring of Angrenost, and they made their way east through Calenardhon, fording the Onodló after a march of seven days, ere they turned their steps north. To their west the dark and forbidding shadow of Fangorn Forest lay at the feet of the southern Hithaeglir. They passed it by amidst the rolling downs of the Wold, until they came to the River Limlight upon 18 Urui, (August 18th).

"I wonder if Oldbark and his folk came safely thither after quitting Calenglad," Beinvír mused on the 14th as she looked off 'cross fifteen miles of low hills sheathed in short grass to the verge of Fangorn.

"Greatly I doth hope 'twas so, meldanya," Helluin answered as she followed her lover's glance with her own eyes. The Lord of the Onodrim had been one of the first new friends she had made during her initial wanderings in Rhovanion, back in the 2nd century of the Second Age. He had been a friend for o'er three millennia.

"Save the single Onod thou saw meet his fate on thy way to Dól Gúldúr, no others did thou find stricken or slain in the Greenwood?" Beinvír asked, just to be sure.

"Aye. 'Twas only he."

Helluin sighed. She couldn't even guess how populous Fangorn had been. Neither had she any certainty as to how many Enyd had called Calenglad i'Dhaer home, but many had come to Oldbark's moot in 3410 of the Second Age. Surely if they had all migrated hence to Fangorn, that forest was't now thick with Tree Shepherds. Then she wondered, would that folk find comfort or consternation in numbers? Would they feel hemmed in, o'ercrowded, or would they revel in their company as did trees in grove and wood? And what of their legions of _Huorns_? These too had been reported abandoning Greenwood by Mayor Bobo Fallohide. Perhaps that forest was't now rife with walking 'trees'. Yet the olvar had different concerns than did the kelvar. 'Twas perhaps a waste of time to ponder such questions and so she put them from her mind.

"Perhaps someday we shalt learn the truth of it," Helluin said at last, "but t'will not be this day."

Beinvír nodded in agreement and turned again to the journey north.

Now after crossing Limlight they came to that land named for the River that ran yet further north and formed the southern boundary of the Golden Wood. This was't the Field of Celebrant which had long spread its grasses south, following the retreat of Fangorn Forest.

The land was't fair and quiet, and wider hither whereat Anduin looped east ere it bent back west to the mouths of the Silverlode. Some few birds flitted swift in their enterprise of snagging bugs awing, darting as they called sharply to each other through a gentle breeze. Anor shone down warm and yellow-bright, and in the distance, some twenty leagues hence, a haze of gold marked the mellyrn realm of King Amroth.

Thither the two ellith entered upon the 23rd of Urui, Beinvír with uncertainty and Helluin with foreboding. They had not set foot thither since ere the War of the Last Alliance, when they had reported their findings on Khazad-dûm and King Durin IV's Ring. If Helluin blamed herself for the decimation of the people of Greenwood and the loss of King Oropher, she felt no less guilt at the fate of the Lórinandrim, for King Amdír too had fallen and his people had endured great losses in the war. Thus 'twas with great trepidation that she stood amidst the outlying trees and called out to the march wardens of the southern border.

"Hail and well met! Hither art Helluin of the Host of Finwe and Beinvír Laiquende, come again after many long years. We journey north and would hath leave to pass thy lands in peace."

Shortly they were answered by a familiar voice from above.

"_Mae govannen, mildis nín gim_, _and han noant__ir__methen mín govannen_,**¹**_"_called outHaldir's brother Rúmil as he dropped lightly from a low talan in a tree some half-dozen fathoms ahead.

**¹**(**Mae govannen, mildis nín gim, and han noant ir methen mín govannen. _Well met, my _**_(female)** friends of old, long it has been since last we met. **_**_mae_**(well)**_ + govannen_**(met)+**_ mildis_**(f.friends, pl)+ **_nín_**(1st pers poss pro, _my_) + **_gim_**(old(of things), pl +**_ and_**(long) +**_ han_**(3rd pers sing dir obj pro, _it_) +**_ noant_**(**_no_**(be) + **_-ant_**(past v suff), _has been_) + **_ir_**(when, _ver. since_) +** _methen_**(last) + **_mín_**(1st pers pl pro, _we_) + **_govannen_**(met)

Helluin groaned to herself at the sight of him, recalling his frequent longing glances at her beloved upon their last visit. At least he had survived the war, she thought charitably, and perhaps he hast found a mate. _I should hate to think he hast failed upon that score for the last thousand years._

But indeed it seemed 'twas just so, for hardly had he approached ere his eyes fixed upon the Green Elf with a look so smitten as to be comical. Helluin rolled her eyes and Beinvír gritted her teeth 'neath an innocent smile of greeting. Behind him, another five border guards approached from their posts in other trees.

"'Tis good to see thee well, Rúmil," Helluin offered for the sake of being civil, "and I hath similar hopes for thy brothers. How fare Haldir and Orophin, pray tell?"

The march warden of Lórinand tore his eyes from Beinvír with obvious effort and he blinked and shook his head as if to clear it of sleep ere he answered.

"Haldir and Orophin, thou say? Indeed they art well, Helluin. Haldir now leads the company upon the northern borders while'st Orophin keeps watch upon the river." Rúmil sighed and then continued more grimly. "We art spread more thinly and hath been so for many years, for our numbers art less following the war."

Helluin and Beinvír nodded solemnly. 'Twas apparent that the depopulation from the war's casualties was't still felt. After several moments of silence, Rúmil spoke.

"Whither doth thy journeys take thee now, O lovely wanderers?" He asked Beinvír. "Art thou to stay with us in Lórinand a while, or must thou continue upon thy way?"

"Indeed upon our way we art bound," Helluin quickly answered, noting that Beinvír had raised her left hand to scratch a nose that no doubt didn't itch, the better to display her joining ring. "We art doing a favor for a friend," she huffed.

The warrior was't vexed to see that Rúmil hadn't even looked at her, but rather his eyes still doted upon her beloved. _Sheeesh, what a horny hound_, she thought. _His buffoonery lacks only a trail of drool upon his chin! Were it not for his kinship with my friend Haldir, I should be sorely tempted to put out one of his eyes, leaving the other only so he could gauge my displeasure._ She crossed her arms o'er her chest and commenced tapping her foot in irritation.

"Surely thou can'st tarry a day or two," he asked with blatantly obvious hope, "if for no reason other than to greet our lord, King Amroth." About them other border guardians nodded in agreement.

Here Helluin actually gritted her teeth and groaned. Amroth was't the very last person in Lórinand that she desired to see. After coaxing his father, the late King Amdír, to join the Host of the Last Alliance, she imagined that he would greet her with displeasure no less than Thranduil. Indeed she was't sure of it. Hither ruled another son of a father slain in the war she had promoted. No desire had she to visit sorrowful memories upon him with her presence. She was't about to repeat her declaration of their intent to travel swiftly through the Golden Wood when the Green Elf shocked her to silence.

"Indeed there is one in this land with whom we would speak, O noble march warden. I should wager that for a day or two we shalt tarry indeed."

Luckily Rúmil was't still so closely focused upon Beinvír that he failed to notice the expression on Helluin's face. If a glance could slay then he would hath perished straight away from the fire in the Noldo's eyes. Instead, a wide grin spread 'cross his face and he gestured them hence with a flourish. With a groan of exasperation Helluin moved to follow Rúmil and Beinvír's path while'st the rest of the company filed in behind.

Now after a march of some three hours they came to Caras Galadon whereat they stopped upon the encircling road 'nigh the great hedge. Within stood the great mellyrn with the many telain of the Galadhrim hidden amongst the boughs. Softly came Elvish voices upon the breeze amidst the whispers of leaves and song. Rúmil sought to lead them into the city straightaway, but the Green Elf stayed him, for she had marked how grim her lover had become. Indeed had she not known better, she would hath wagered that Helluin was't marching to her own gallows.

"Rúmil, we seek one who may not be within the city. Perhaps thou know and would grace us with haste in our errand. Whither lives the lady named Nimrodel? Her sister was't known to us when last we came to Calenglad i'Dhaer. We hath some tidings to share with her, but 'naught else to stay us hither…" She trailed off at the look of dismay upon the march warden's face. "…what?"

Rúmil was't shaking his head now, an expression well 'nigh of loathing shaping his features. The Green Elf canted her head in curiosity. Whyfore did Inthuiril's sister wring such a reaction from him? For all her impetuosity and ill-considered behavior, Beinvír thought the young hunter of Greenwood a good spirit at heart. Behind her Helluin regarded the march warden of Lórinand with critical scrutiny. She was't yet the more convinced that this excursion was't a poor idea, but as ever she would endure much to indulge her lover's wishes.

"Nimrodel's sister I know not," Rúmil began, though as if with relief, "nor any of her kin." After a pause during which he weighed carefully his words, he offered only impartial commentary. "She came hither in great disquiet, flying from the darkening of the Greenwood, well 'nigh soon as rumor of the Sorcerer reached our ears. She hast dwelt hither ever since."

"And…?" Helluin prompted, hands set upon her hips. 'Twas obvious that he thought more than he had said.

Rúmil chanced only a quick glance at her. He seemed genuinely uncomfortable at the prospect of voicing his impressions.

"She comes of a noble family…" he said ere trailing off and grinding his teeth. "Ahhh well, for thyselves thou shalt see," he finally said, ere turning from the city with a sigh. To the company, he pointed at a path and ordered, "Come, we go thither."

Helluin marked that the guards gazed at the city with longing ere they followed their captain. Beinvír marked that 'twas now the guards rather than Helluin who looked like they were being led hence to the gibbet. She found her curiosity outpacing that of a cat, or at least those of cat-kind she had known. She caught Beinvír's eye but received only a shrug in answer to her questioning glance.

_What in Udûn?_ Helluin silently asked._ Aye, Inthuiril was't naive and given to leaping ere she looked, yet she was't committed to her realm and her king…if a bit misguided. Whyfore is Rúmil so reticent to speak of Nimrodel? Be she crazed? Uncivil? Perhaps she bathes not? Ah well, the tale shalt be told in its own time, I wager. _

_Rather to the lair of an Urulóki than the home of a maiden one would think them bound, _the Green Elf mused._ Huh. _

They made their way west and somewhatnorth, taking a path that led towards the Hithaeglir and the realm of Khazad-dûm. For the most part they marched in a grim silence.

"T'will be a full day's march and we shalt come there not ere the morrow," Rúmil stated after an hour. At the surprised looks on the faces of the two ellith he added hopefully, "Art thou sure thou can'st spare the time from thy errand?"

Helluin replied, "Nay," at the very same moment that Beinvír answered, "Yea." They looked at each other and Helluin capitulated with a shrug. Rúmil sighed again and nodded, then resumed his pace.

So it went for the remainder of that day and the morning of the next. Even the presence of his guests now seemed to cheer Rúmil not during the intervening evening. Indeed barely did he evince an appetite at supper and no songs were sung that night. Ere they came to a small, neat hut 'nigh the western tributary of Celebrant early the next afternoon, Rúmil was't well 'nigh morose. Even the Green Elf was't questioning her wisdom in coming hither.

Now the talan of Nimrodel was't perched about a fathom off the ground upon two bent and hewn trunks that acted as pillars while'st giving the impression of a fowl's legs. 'Twas more hut than talan and stood at the very edge of a steep bank. Indeed one wall o'erhung the cascading water below. Before the door a small porch barely large enough for a single person to stand upon looked down upon a garden of wildflowers. A path of river stones led visitors through it, past a wrought iron table and chairs, to the front of the hut. The whole premises was't manicured more carefully than a king's palace, wherein not a single blade of grass nor a single leaf had lacked for the horticulturist's touch. It struck Helluin as wholly obsessive and well 'nigh as strange and artificial as the traveling house of Iarwain Ben-adar. Thither went Rúmil with his two guests, while'st the rest of the company hung back in the garden with obvious relief. Their respite 'twas short-lived indeed.

From within the hut came a crash and then a screech. Rúmil recoiled as if struck, while'st Helluin reached swiftly for Anguirél's hilt and Beinvír stared upward towards the door in shock. Thither after a few moments appeared a fair Elven maiden in distress. She marked them not at first, but stood upon the tiny porch wringing her hands and staring upwards at the sky. Then, in a voice fraught with trauma, she made her plea to the heavens.

"Oh great Ilúvatar and all the Powers of Arda in the Blessed West, however could thou vex me so? Howsoever could thou visit me such heartache so undeserved? Wherefore hast thy justice fled?"

And then she broke down in tears.

While'st Rúmil and Helluin momentarily stood petrified in surprise, Beinvír asked, "Art thou indeed the Lady Nimrodel, and whyfore art thou so distraught?"

'Twas only slowly that the figure upon the balcony deigned to notice the Green Elf. Slowly she raised her bowed head and her sobs abated. She peeked from 'neath her cascades of lustrous dark hair and looked down at her guests, first with shock and then in a surprisingly rapid recovery. Indeed after a few moments she smiled and dried her eyes with the sleeve of her flowing dress. Then, after a final sniffle, she addressed them.

"Pray excuse my outburst," she said in a melodic voice that to Helluin's ear sounded quite contrived, "I am not oft so afflicted." She then fixed her gaze upon Beinvír and answered, "Indeed I am Nimrodel. Pray tell me, art thou royalty from afar? A princess perhaps, traveling in disguise for to forestall the unwanted attentions of such as yonder knave?"

With that she shifted her attention to Rúmil and scowled. Helluin glanced at him and raised a questioning eyebrow. Nimrodel marked the dark Noldo then, appraising her stature and her armor and her weapons, but again she addressed Beinvír.

"'Tis wise of thee, m'Lady, to travel thus with a stout and well-armed bodyguard. Thy lord hast provided for thee prudently indeed, for danger lurks everywhere in this dimming wood. Alas, how the days darken!" She paused for a theatrical sigh, but then continued as a gracious hostess.

"I would offer thee tea and cakes, for proper hospitality one lady should provide to another for civility's sake. Pray hath thy servant and these sluggards prepare my table for entertaining," she said while'st gesturing first to the company of border guards and thence to the table and chairs amidst the garden. "I shalt set a kettle upon the fire straightaway and bring down a pot and cups. Excuse my lack of proper etiquette, I beseech thee. 'Tis but a backwoods hovel I am relegated to in these dark days, and alas, I am deprived of proper servants."

With that she disappeared back into her hut and shortly there came the sound of pots and china being moved about. While'st Rúmil groaned and made his way back to his company, Beinvír and Helluin traded glances.

_Stout bodyguard indeed! I deem she hast lost her mind, or whatsoever wits she was't possessed of aforetime_, Helluin said silently to her partner.

_She doth seem a bit…dramatic, _Beinvír allowed. _'Tis hard indeed to believe that she is truly Inthuiril's sister. _

_Aye, they art nothing alike save somewhat in their appearance._

_Such could be said of half the population…dark-haired and dark-eyed,_ Beinvír noted. _Now I wonder about their childhood. Howsoever could two siblings end up so different?_

To this the Helluin could only shrug.

Behind them they could hear the guards grumbling as they dusted off the table and chairs and set them in order for the guests. Shortly Nimrodel returned to her porch bearing a tea pot and balancing a stack of cups and saucers, a sugar bowl and creamer, silverware and jam pot, and a basket of seeded cakes. They wondered how she would descend, for there were no stairs. Surprisingly, she leapt the fathom's drop without hesitation and landed lightly with scarcely a clatter of the china. 'Twas an impressive feat indeed. She then approached them smiling.

"Come, let us sit, m'Lady. Thy bodyguard may attend thee," she said to Beinvír, casually handing off a stack of place-settings and accessories to Helluin as she passed by. She hardly even glanced at the Noldo.

The dark warrior lunged forward and barely grasped the stacked china ere Nimrodel let it drop. 'Twas quite obvious that she had no question whatsoever in her expectations that Helluin would take them. Helluin stood holding the wares in amazement. Nimrodel was't leading the Green Elf to the table while'st Rúmil stifled a snicker. When Helluin looked daggers at him he merely shifted his head to indicate that she should move to the table with her burden. By then, Nimrodel and Beinvír were taking their seats.

"Come now, whatever detains thee in the discharge of thy duties?" the lady flung o'er her shoulder at Helluin. "Pray mind my china and set our places ere the tea cools."

To Beinvír she whispered in a clearly audible aside, "'Tis a dismal thing, the failing of attentiveness amongst servants these days. Still, I can understand that thy bodyguard mayhaps lacks polish in the more genteel arts." She clucked and offered the Green Elf a sympathetic expression.

Beinvír looked past Nimrodel to her mate and read the rising wrath in her eyes. She gave a barely perceptible shake of her head as if to say, _Behead her not, meldanya, I pray thee, or at least refrain 'till after I hath held converse with her?_ Yet her own ire was't raised at Nimrodel's disregard for her beloved.

Helluin shrugged and exhaled her anger, while'st a tick animated her right brow and a hint of blue fire flickered in her eyes. She set down the china and arranged it in place settings before the two ladies. Then she bowed with a flourish so o'erly embellished that t'would hath been proper in the court of Gil-galad in an Age before.

"M'ladies, thy tea is served," she grated out, "shalt I pour?"

"Indeed so and about time," Nimrodel said without so much as a glance at her. For a moment only, a dark look crossed the Green Elf's face.

"_I shalt hath off her head at thy whim…m'Lady,"_ Anguirél offered from her scabbard, waxing cynical. The Sarchram chuckled in agreement and Helluin groaned. Rúmil's eyes bulged, marking the sword's voice. If Nimrodel heard, she paid no attention to the threat, fixing wholly upon Beinvír, whom she deemed the only other person present to be worthy of her attention.

"So from whence hath thou come to offer thy fair companionship, hither in my exile?"

"Indeed we hath come from Eriador to the west of the Misty Mountains, m'Lady," Beinvír answered, "yet we hath journeyed far, even unto the Greenwood."

Nimrodel regarded her a moment with a pitying expression.

"I feel for thee greatly then, to hath endured so long amidst the barbaric wastes beyond the mountains," she said, "yet even the Greenwood is now well 'nigh a wilderland. How thou must be starved for genteel company and acceptable fare. Thou hast, no doubt, stooped to accept the hospitality of roadside inns and village taverns, if such can'st be rightly called hospitality. Why, to think of it. Such suffering! Thou do me honor indeed to come so far, and yet I understand thee. Hither, alone in all these wretched lands, is there a vestige of civility preserved. Alas."

Beinvír resolved to say 'naught of their hunting and fishing, their open cook fires, or the nights passed in the open 'neath the stars. Helluin rolled her eyes at Nimrodel's claims while'st Beinvír humored her with a smile of gratitude despite the defamation of her homeland.

"Indeed 'tis as thou say for the most part, for the lands art wild. Yet the darkness of Greenwood hast been lifted of late. Hath thou heard?"

"Nay," said Nimrodel, "and t'would be but a matter of degree only, I wager, for even aforetime was't the realm of Calenglad but a poor backwater."

Changing her tact, Beinvír offered, "I hath it to understand that thou art from Calenglad i'Dhaer thyself, m'Lady. Surely 'twas not so bad upon a time?"

Here Nimrodel fairly shivered, and she leant forward to speak confidentially to the Green Elf, though all heard her clearly.

"Indeed I hailed from Calenglad in better times, though 'tis all a relative thing, I deem, and I distance myself from that claim now, for none could but think the less of me in these latter days. I pray thee mention it not hereafter. Yet thou hast journeyed thither. Surely thou understand?"

"I would understand thy concerns if they arise from the establishment of Dól Gúldúr and the evils of the Sorcerer," Beinvír said. She was't about to continue, but she stopped, marking the shivering and the ill expression upon Nimrodel's face. Instead she asked with concern, "Art thou well, m'Lady?"

"Indeed I am not," Nimrodel exclaimed. "Ever was't that horrid forest beset with evil, even long ere the Sorcerer darkened the wood. 'Twas the abode of foul spiders so plentiful as to drape all the trees with their webs and fill all the air with their stench. 'Twas ever so, or so I hath heard. Worse yet, 'twas the home of those insolent Tree Shepherds! No proper wood would hath countenanced them. No proper forest would hath needed them. 'Twas only because the trees of Greenwood knew not their rightful place. Indeed even from the First Days they went walking about, talking, and behaving unlike proper trees. They skulked about the forest…they and all their fellow creatures, all far too forward in their conduct! Mind you, I hath 'naught against sharing the forest with those of other kinds, but only so long as they keep well enough to themselves."

Here she huffed in irritation while'st Helluin gritted her teeth and Beinvír rolled her eyes. Nimrodel continued her rant thus.

"I abode thither 'nigh on four hundred years and it seemed an Age. So I left that darkling wood for some peace of mind, indeed for some measure of sanity, and good riddance to it! I deem even King Thranduil hast not his wits about him. Indeed 'tis said he took counsel with the Treeherds and honored them. How appalling! I pity those of Elven kind still forced to endure in that feeble realm. Little better than the Avari is their lot. And so I journeyed west as did our folk in days of old. Hopeful was't I then. Alas, I found 'tis barely better hither. No Tree Shepherds slouch about this wood, nor doth spiders make Lórinand their home, but 'tis 'nigh a realm of Dwarves! And if that weren't ill enough, there art bears and Men and all those hideous little hairy-footed animals tromping past the borders of late! How upsetting!"

She wrung her hands and turned to Beinvír with a look of one wholly at their wits' end. The Green Elf forced herself not to roll her eyes. Nimrodel was't not even a princess of a royal house, yet she was't a drama queen sure enough and a whiner of the very first order who expected all things to conform to her wishes. Rather than berating her, the naturally optimistic Beinvír changed the subject.

"Lady Nimrodel, of late did my partner and I travel to Calenglad, and thither came to know thy sister, Inthuiril. Trials and tribulations did she endure, yet her future seems bright. Woulds't thou hear of her?"

For a moment surprise showed upon the elleth's face.

"My baby sister? Why, I hath heard 'naught from Inthuiril since I left the Greenwood. Aye! Indeed I would hear thy tidings of her. Of all those in that horrid wood, she was't ever my favorite."

Beinvír nodded and began her rede.

"First, I found thy sister a hunter and march warden of Calenglad, and an esteemed counselor of the king. He holds her in honor and she attends him at court."

Here Nimrodel smiled indulgently, as at the antics of a babe.

"She was't ever one to seek adventure, and even as a child, reveled in traipsing about the forest. Oft times she came home covered in filth; dirt, leaves, and mud, or brought home bugs and frogs and salamanders. Our _naneth_ was't sorely vexed."

Nimrodel chuckled, an appealing sound like silvery water skipping o'er glistening stones amidst a swift-running freshet, as she recalled her little sister's childhood antics.

"T'would seem she found her place indeed…though not as a proper lady, of course," Nimrodel said, "yet she is esteemed by King Thranduil, thou say? Still, a march warden and hunter? 'Tis a more fitting enterprise for youth, and a youthful _ellon_ at that. Well, she is still young and I can only hope she shalt grow out of it in time."

The Green Elf nodded as if agreeing, but then resumed.

"Amongst other tales, she told me that she had seen an Onod amidst the wood and that he spoke with her apace ere taking his leave. Thence, following suspicions of her own, she journeyed hence to the Sorcerer's tower to learn the truth. Thither she was't taken prisoner and held captive."

At Nimrodel's gasp Helluin well 'nigh chuckled, and she nodded approvingly to Beinvír from behind Nimrodel's back. The lady was't hugging herself and rocking back and forth in despair. Like all her other expressions, this one too seemed o'erly theatrical.

"O woe! So she has't met her end then indeed? Say thou that she was't taken and tormented by that monster? Alas, her wild ways hath betrayed her to her doom. Would that she had minded better in her youth and grown up to be a lady. Alas!"

For a moment Beinvír regarded her askance. Nimrodel had broken down, moaning and shaking her head, and muttering of heartbroken loss and judgmental recrimination. _What a performance, _she thought, _one would think her sister a wayward child of a dozen years._

"Lady Nimrodel, despair not," Beinvír said, "for thy sister was't rescued from the clutches of the Sorcerer. She was't returned to her own realm in good health, indeed somewhat the wiser, and her king rejoiced greatly in her safety."

Nimrodel ceased her sobbing and peeked at Beinvír with teary eyes from 'neath the fall of her hair. She then sat up straighter and looked at the Green Elf with obvious relief.

"Indeed? Truly? Oh, I am so relieved!" After a moment's pause she continued with curiosity. "Howsoever came this to be, that she was't rescued from that horrid place? All feared the Sorcerer and certainly none in this realm would hath ever dared approach Dól Gúldúr."

She cast an accusatory glance at Rúmil and his company. For their part, the guards of Lórinand ignored her, edging in closer, eager to hear such tidings, for in truth, none of them would hath dared approach Dól Gúldúr for any reason.

"A great hero is her savior, I deem," Nimrodel continued. "Like unto a fair prince of the hosts of old, this warrior; a shining knight fell and courageous, bound by honor and the codes of chivalry. He is a fine lord no doubt, perchance a handsome scion of some noble house riding upon errantry? Indeed such a one I would hold in the highest esteem for his bravery! Come, name him, I pray thee."

Here Beinvír rolled her eyes and Helluin stifled a bark of laughter.

"'Twas neither prince nor knight m'Lady," Beinvír replied, "but rather she whom thy folk name the _Mórgolodh_. She drove hence the Sorcerer from his tower and slew all his foul minions within ere she freed thy sister."

The look of shock and disbelief upon Nimrodel's face was't well 'nigh comical. At first she could but sputter in amazement. The Green Elf nodded 'yea' to reinforce her words. Finally Nimrodel found her voice.

"The _Mórgolodh_? The warmongering Black Exile of the Noldor? She who led Oropher and Amdír to their dooms a thousand years past? Truly? I know not what to say! I thought her dead in Mordor ere the war's end, as do most who know their lore. Died in single combat with the Dark Lord himself, they say, and a fitting end that. A scourge upon the Tawarwaith she was't. Yet thou say she saved my sister and defeated the Sorcerer?"

"Indeed so, m'Lady," Beinvír assured her, "and never did she drive hence the kings of Lórinand and Calenglad to their deaths. Rather she tried to aid them both as she could. Nor did she fall in the war against Sauron Gorthaur, but rather survived it to this day."

To Nimrodel's stupefied silence, Beinvír added, "Though a commoner born, no other of Eru's Children doth the Dark Lord fear more. She is noble, m'Lady, in deed if not by birth, and many hold her in esteem 'cross this Middle Earth."

"Well, I never," Nimrodel huffed in astonishment as she grudgingly accepted Beinvír's assertions. "I suppose I owe her my thanks for her deeds on behalf of my _gwathel tithen_**¹**. Pray extend her my gratitude then if thou should see her, though such a chance I deem slight. In all my years I hath heard no tell of her in these parts or any other. Still, 'tis good to know such an enemy of the Dark One lives."

**¹**(**_gwathel tithen_**, little sister Sindarin)

"Thy thanks thou may offer on thy own behalf, Lady Nimrodel, and soon" Beinvír said.

"Indeed? How so?" the lady asked in surprise.

"She stands not a fathom behind thee and hast served thee tea," Beinvír told her while'st gesturing to Helluin o'er the lady's shoulder.

Nimrodel jerked around in disbelief and for one frozen moment stared at Helluin who was't glowering down at her, her eyes crackling with blue fire.

"I…I...w-why…I am m-mortified…" she stuttered ere her eyes rolled up in her head and she swooned straight away like a proper lady in distress.

Ere her head lolled o'er the back of her chair, Rúmil was't doubled up in hysterics. Helluin stood shaking her head. 'Twas left for Beinvír to dab cool water upon a cloth and lave the lady's forehead 'til she regained her wits. She recovered consciousness but slowly and with obvious disorientation.

"Whither? Whence?" I find am stricken light-headed, I fear," she mumbled at first. Then belatedly, recalling somewhat of her conversation with the Green Elf, she uttered, "Say thou that my sister is safe indeed?"

Rúmil was't still chuckling and Helluin stifling her mirth.

"Aye, that she is," Beinvír replied, "and soon to marry King Thranduil, I wager."

This time Nimrodel's face struck the tabletop in her swoon and Rúmil fell silent in shock.

Beinvír gave her lover an innocent look which fooled Helluin not a moment. The warrior nodded her thanks and then cocked an ear to the south. Shortly later Rúmil and the guards roused themselves from their amazement and stood fast upon the path. The footsteps of a larger company could now be heard coming softly through the forest.

Nimrodel was't still out cold when Haldir and two dozen archers of Lórinand came 'nigh, and amidst them strode King Amroth. Rúmil and his company snapped to attention and bowed to their king. Amroth nodded to acknowledge them ere he stopped short in surprise. Then he hastened forward in alarm.

"What has't befallen the lady? Answer me!" The king demanded, pinning in turn all who stood by with his glare.

'Twas Helluin rather than Rúmil who answered.

"She hast taken shock at certain of our tidings, O King," she reported nervously as she looked quickly to Beinvír.

_What abysmal timing, meldanya! I scarce believe it! Now not only the fall of his father shalt he hold against me, but the trauma of his noble guest as well, I wager. Ahhh well._

_Mayhaps t'will not be so bad, my love, _the Green Elf said silently to her, _his concern shalt outweigh his wrath, I wager…for a time, at least._

'_Tis hardly a comforting thought._

At that moment, Nimrodel began to rouse herself at last. King Amroth had rushed to her side and now supported her upon his arm, his manner solicitous in the extreme.

"M'Lady, it fairly tears my heart to see thee so afflicted," he said as he patted her hand.

Beinvír offered him the wet cloth and he took up laving her brow, hardly noticing the Green Elf at all. Beinvír met Helluin's eyes again and they spoke silently together.

_I believe thy head is safe from the king's wrath at present, meldanya. See how he conducts himself like a love-struck ellon of a scant few decades? Indeed he makes Thranduil seem a cold-hearted knave by comparison. _She giggled softly and Helluin rolled her eyes.

'_Tis a thing amazing that these two sisters, so unlike unto one another, hath bewitched so completely these two neighboring kings. Perhaps I shalt be spared for a time after all. I wonder if we could now take our leave unnoticed?_

But at that moment, King Amroth's glance fell upon Beinvír and then shifted to Helluin.

"Yesternoon I heard tell of thy visit and then of thy destination. I deemed 'twas good fortune. Therefore I set out hence at once for to greet thee and the lady together at one pass. T'would seem I hath come in the nick of time. What hast come to pass, pray tell?"

'Twas obvious to Helluin and Beinvír that their presence had given Amroth a reasonable excuse to visit Lady Nimrodel.

"We hath shared somewhat of our adventures," the Green Elf began, "but our tidings hath taken the lady unprepared. 'Twas good tidings, yet indeed I deem the gravity of our words hath wrought this ill. 'Twas wholly unlooked for, O King."

Amroth regarded her in confusion and then returned to Nimrodel.

"M'Lady, whyfore art thou so? What hast come to pass?" He asked while'st holding her hands and staring deeply into her eyes.

"Why 'twas good tidings indeed, my king, yet greatly unexpected. I fear I hath taken a shock at their tale, but I am alright, I assure thee." Here Nimrodel struggled to sit up straight, and though Amroth was't loath to release her, she gently freed herself and lifted her chin proudly. "I hath learnt of the captivity and liberation of my sister from the Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr, and if that was't insufficient, I hath learnt too of her impending joining with King Thranduil!"

Now 'twas Amroth's turn to stare in open-mouthed shock. He looked from Nimrodel to Beinvír.

"Sooth? 'Tis so indeed?"

"Aye, 'tis just so, O King," Beinvír assured him.

"How came this to pass? To the Greenwood messages we send and messages receive, yet they hath been few of late what with the darkening of Calenglad, and of these things I hath heard 'naught. Tell me thy tale, I pray thee," he commanded.

So Helluin and Beinvír told their tale in full at the king's prompting, while'st Rúmil and Haldir and their companies stood by in amazement and Nimrodel wavered 'twixt swooning and rejoicing. In full, they harkened for o'er two hours and two more pots of tea. When the story was't done, Amroth turned to Nimrodel.

"Shalt thou go hence to Greenwood to attend thy sister?"

He seemed loath to let her go from his realm, indeed from his sight, now that he was't in her company. For her part, Helluin felt like gagging.

"Perhaps if a proper invitation is received I shalt consider it," she said with uncertainty, "yet I am in no hurry to travel that ill-favored wood again for any reason. 'Tis well enough that Inthuiril wed King Thranduil, I suppose," she said with noticeable hesitation, "if indeed such comes to pass at all, yet she is wild and he much too old for her." She was't shaking her head, having convinced herself that the relationship was't doomed.

_She is jealous, _Helluin said to Beinvír in silence, eye to eye.

_So t'would seem indeed, meldis nín, _Beinvír replied, _for Nimrodel hast been leapfrogged in marriage by her unladylike little sister, and to a king, no less. How horrible for her…_

The Green Elf suppressed a chuckle at the irony while'st Helluin shook her head. The Noldo would hath been only too happy to hear of her own sister, Elvearille, taking the hand of whosoever she would, be he king or commoner, so long as she found thither her bliss. _And now I wonder how fares my gwathel tithen in the Blessed Realm? I hath not thought of her in a very long time,_ she realized.

In the end, rather than demanding her head upon a pike, King Amroth gave Helluin his thanks.

"For thy valiant defeat of the Sorcerer and the emptying of Dól Gúldúr thou hast my gratitude and the gratitude of my realm. As my father did, I welcome thee. Yet the more, I doth thank thee for bringing a cause of joy to the lady. Indeed Nimrodel hast become dear to me and her joy is as my own."

Helluin bowed her head to honor his words, while'st breathing a sigh of relief.

_See thou? No hard feelings doth Amroth hold against thee for the past, meldanya, _Beinvír said silently. _Indeed were thou to go thither, Thranduil would say 'aught alike, for he blames thee not. I hope that someday thou shalt allow him the chance to absolve thee in thy own eyes._

Helluin sighed. _Mayhaps that day shalt come, yet for now I feel he needs my presence less than I need his absolution. To the court of Calenglad I shalt not willingly go._

The Green Elf nodded in understanding. Her beloved was't not ready to dispose of her guilt, for it grew more deeply from her own heart than that of King Thranduil.

_Perhaps if an invitation should come to us for the wedding of Thranduil and Inthuiril, thou shalt hath to lay aside thy guilt to celebrate that happy day_, Beinvír said

Helluin could only blanch at the possibility.

**To Be Continued**

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To Reena90 and Elven-Cat2...thanks for the reviews. The time you've taken to write is appreciated. I hope youll both continue to enjoy this story as it grows ever longer. -_Phantom Bard_


	100. In An Age Before Chapter 100

**In An Age Before – Part 100

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**Chapter Sixty-two**

_**Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now after taking their leave of the Lord of Lórinand, Helluin and Beinvír made their way north beside Anduin, passing the Gladden Fields whither Isildur had long ago fallen. Helluin recalled her aborted mission to inspect that land for clues to the loss of Sauron's Ring, and she shuddered at the memory of Beinvír's wounding in the Yrch lair 'neath the Hithaeglir. She had very nearly faded, and had Elrond not succeeded in healing her, Helluin knew the Green Elf would hath soon died. The very thought chilled the Noldo's blood as 'aught else she could imagine. Though she had spent thousands of years alone and content in her solitude, such a state was't untenable to her now. She had changed and she could not go back to what she had been before her _fëa_ had become joined to that of her beloved…and now the prophecy of her own doom deprived her of the possibility of leaving the Mortal Shores to join Beinvír in the West. The words she'd once spoken to her old friend Glorfindel in Eriador came to her.

_"She refused passage to Tol Eressëa to stay with me," Helluin whispered. And after a pause, she added even more softly, "I would bathe this world in blood to avenge her."_

Helluin fell into a somber mood that dogged her 'till they stood upon the Men-i-Naugrim and turned east to the ford of Anduin. Thither other more recent memories asserted themselves; of finding the burnt Yrch camp and the butchered remains of the Fallohides. She gritted her teeth and only now marked 'aught of what Nimrodel had said.

"_No Tree Shepherds slouch about this wood, nor doth spiders make Lórinand their home, but 'tis 'nigh a realm of Dwarves! And if that weren't ill enough, there art bears and Men and all those hideous little hairy-footed animals tromping past the borders of late! How upsetting!" _

The _'hideous little hairy-footed animals'_…could Nimrodel hath meant the Periannath? She had claimed that they'd been '_tromping past the borders of late'_. Did that mean they were migrating west? Helluin cursed softly with regret for not realizing the significance of the lady's words and questioning her, or better yet, Haldir or Rúmil. Had the folk of Furlong and their kin finally decided to flee o'er the Hithaeglir to Eriador? Or were they only moving 'cross Anduin in hopes of safety? Helluin resolved to look into this when she could, but t'would be long ere her curiosity was't satisfied.

Now on 4 Ivanneth, (September 4th), the two ellith crossed Anduin. Upon the eastern side they picked up the settler's road that traveled north, staying well outside the border of the Greenwood, and they continued upon their way.

Upon that road they found little of remark and the days passed with one foot set before the other while'st Anor shone above. 'Twas on their second afternoon past the ford when they saw a large rock, (or smallish island), amid-stream in the river. Shortly later they spied a homestead of Barlun's folk, surrounded by the inevitable fence. The air was't scented by fields of flowers waving in a gentle breeze and the buzzing of hives. A large barn stood behind a hewn-log cabin. Though a slender column of smoke rose from the cabin's chimney they didn't stop.

Perhaps an hour later Helluin felt a strange tingle upon her consciousness and she cast her glance west to the Hithaeglir. Thither, in the high airs above the mountain slopes she marked the soaring form of a great bird circling. With her Elvish sight she clearly saw the Eagle. Beinvír joined her, shading her eyes with a slender hand.

"N'er again shalt I look upon one of that esteemed kindred wholly with welcome," the Green Elf said, "and though 'tis blaming the messenger for the message, still shalt I ever link them with the pronouncement of thy doom."

"Aye," Helluin said grimly, "that and my kidnapping. I too bear them a grudge."

She was't recalling her abduction from Mt. Doom in Mordor and her loss of the opportunity she'd created to fell Sauron. Beinvír nodded in agreement, though with less conviction. Their reunion in Osgiliath ere the end of the War of the Last Alliance had been unlooked for and sweet. She remembered it fondly.

"For that, perhaps I owe them thanks," the Green Elf whispered. She grinned at her soulmate's dour expression and then joined her in the continuation of their march.

Twenty leagues west and o'er a mile up the great bird followed their progress with the keenest eyes in all of Arda. If Helluin and Beinvír could see him clearly, he could see not only their forms, but their faces as well. As they turned their footsteps north, he wheeled and set a course west, rising o'er the mountains and making for Eriador to find the one who'd bidden him seek them. In Imladris the old 'Man in Grey', (who was't no more a mortal Man than he was't a mortal bird), would welcome his tidings.

_Through o'er 4,000 years we hath kept watch hither, _he thought as he beat west in the cold, thin air at an altitude of o'er 2,000 fathoms, _'twixt one unholy fire and the other, and though both hath been long at rest, both shalt come again in their time. And as of old we shalt be first to mark the rising smoke. But who shalt we tell? Who lives now to stand against Valarauko or Fealóce_**¹** **¹**(**_fealóce,_** a fire-breathing dragon Quenya)

Upon 8 Ivanneth Helluin and Beinvír spied a larger isle amid-stream in Anduin and later that afternoon the confluence of Anduin and the River Rhimdath, which Men would call the Rushdown. Upon the western bank of the great river did the Rhimdath's swift flow merge its chilled waters from the Hithaeglir.

Now for another fortnight Helluin and Beinvír continued upon their way north. This stretch of Anduin Men would later call the Langflood, though why 'twas not simply the northward reaches of Anduin is unclear, for the river changed not its character nor even noticeably its breadth.

Upon 22 Ivanneth the pair saw the river bend west and thither they departed its banks, for thither lay that merger of the Langwell and the Greylin wherein Anduin the Great is born. Thither too, some 25 leagues northwest, stood Mt. Gundabad, long a place of ill-repute and the source of great evil, for it had, since the First Age, been a home-warren of the Glamhoth. At the joining place of the Hithaeglir and the Ered Mithrin it stood, snow-capped and honeycombed throughout the millennia by the borrowings of the Yrch.

In the Elder Days, Gundabad had been but one mount amongst many that comprised the Ered Engrin, the Iron Mountains, which some lore says Morgoth raised as a defense for his first fortress of Utumno. The Ered Engrin had existed through the Age of the Lamps and the Age of the Trees, even after the Valar broke Utumno when the Eldar first awoke in Cuivienen. Thither to Mt. Gundabad had many of Morgoth's servants fled during his imprisonment in Aman, to be recalled Three Ages later when their master returned with the Silmarils to his western outpost fortress of Angband. Even after the Valar broke the world and sank Beleriand, the remnant of the Ered Engrin, the Ered Mithrin, persisted as the northern border of Rhovanion, separating Wilderland from the frigid Northern Waste.

Now Helluin and Beinvír made their way east and the Ered Mithrin marched upon their left flank. Within ten leagues a shoulder of the mountains thrust southwards, even to the borders of Greenwood. Thither the flatlands narrowed until, upon 26 Ivanneth, the two ellith approached the verge of Calenglad. In days of yore that place had been hedged about and closely guarded by Lord Oldbark's _Huorns_, but now the place lay unguarded and strangely still. 'Naught but a narrow trail led 'twixt the foothills and the forest for some ten miles, and this was't barely to be seen for none maintained it. The Elves set foot upon that trail 'neath a grey and leaden sky.

Helluin viewed the ancient weathered granites and schists, now time-eaten into tortured outcroppings and barren boulders. 'Twas a dreary place indeed, hard and comfortless, all of black and grey save where the sickly greenish lichen crusts grew, and lacking the majestic heights of the snow-capped Hithaeglir or the Ered Nimrais.

"Not unlike the Ettenmoors of Rhudaur art these highlands," Beinvír remarked, "both cheerless and cold. I should be not surprised to find Tor abiding in whatsoever caves lie thither."

"Nor I, _meldanya_," Helluin agreed.

The land was't all too reminiscent of the Troll Fells that lay west of Imladris in northern Eriador. Helluin kept a wary eye upon the slopes as they made their way east. When finally the hills retreated north she breathed a sigh of relief.

Now upon the evening of the following day they came to the ford of the Forest River which made its way southeast into the Greenwood. 'Twas easily crossed at this season, being neither deep nor swift, though chill. Rather than wet their feet at the start of a day's march, the two ellith elected to wade to stream ere they made their nightly camp so that they might dry their footwear by the fire.

Helluin led the way from the western bank, placing carefully her boots upon the pebbled streambed in the fading light. Beinvír followed, unerringly tracing her partner's path. Slowly the water rose 'till at midstream it came to Helluin's knees. For the Green Elf this was't some inches up her thighs, but still not troublesome as the current was't unchallenging. Some two-thirds of the way 'cross the Noldo stopped and Beinvír came up beside her. Helluin was't examining the streambed.

"Glad am I to hath somewhat of Anor's light remaining, _meldanya_," she declared as she pointed to a sinkhole. The water appeared to find a depth of o'er a fathom in that one spot. What looked like a few whitish pebbles lay captured at its bottom. "A boulder hast taken its leave, I wager, and not long ago."

The Green Elf peered into the submerged hole and shook her head. In another quarter hour the light would hath been too dim to hath spied it with certainty. Either of them could hath plunged into the chill waters and spent the rest of the evening shivering. 'Twas more an inconvenience than a danger, but unwelcome nonetheless.

"I shalt be happier to stand again upon dry land, _meldis nín_," she said, "let us be on our way."

With that she took a few steps towards the thither bank. Helluin followed behind her. Beinvír had gone not ten paces ere she seemed to slip, her feet going out from under her so that she took a pratfall face-first into the stream. She came up sputtering and cursing and a moment later Helluin hauled her back onto her feet.

"The streambed moved 'neath my feet! I should swear it by the Valar," Beinvír cursed.

Alarmed, Helluin drew her sword and searched the water with her keen sight. A few feet ahead of them she saw a large shadow moving slowly on the bottom.

"Thither!" she cried out, pointing down. Beinvír followed her finger and marked the movement. She was't just quick enough to reach Helluin's wrist and stay her sword thrust. For a moment the Noldo's eyes crackled with blue fire and by their light both saw more clearly.

"'Tis but a tortoise, my love," the Green Elf giggled, "and I am sure 'tis more disturbed than we for being trod upon." She stood soaking wet and laughed at her mishap. Helluin allowed herself a grin and sheathed her blade.

"He should thank thee for his life this day," she said.

"I should think 'tis a she who is thanking me," Beinvír replied. Helluin raised a brow in question.

"Not only hath she a short tail, but also a nest nearby, I wager. Yonder sinkhole was't lined with eggs, _meldanya_. I am surprised I recognized it not aforetime."

"And would thou favor a supper of tortoise eggs, my love?" Helluin asked with a smile.

After a moment's thought Beinvír shook her head 'nay'.

"Already we hath ruined her evening's peace, and besides, hath we not some badger jerky remaining in our stores?"

"Aye, that we do," Helluin replied.

"Then let us make our way thither," the Green Elf declared as she set out again for the eastern shore. "I at least crave a fire and warmth to dry beside, and t'would be happy with it sooner than later."

Some time later, with her clothing drying o'er a pit fire, the Green Elf warmed herself by dancing and singing a silly song, making up the words as she went, while'st Helluin tried valiantly to concoct a stew from the badger jerky and some wild onions. The earlier overcast had partially broken, revealing scattered patches of starry sky and the rumor of moonlight. 'Neath the patchwork glow Tilion's lamp and Varda's speckled fires, Beinvír moved with graceful steps, her pale naked form gracing the open air 'nigh the bank. Her song proceeded something like this, though originally in Sindarin:

**"_Will thou step a bit more carefully?" said the tortoise to the rél_¹**

"_There's an elleth right above me and she's trod upon my shell._

_Mark how eagerly the crawfish and the liver-fluke advance?_

_Like the badger in the kettle they hath come to join the dance._

_Will thou, won't thou, will thou, won't thou, will thou join the dance? _

_Will thou, won't thou, will thou, won't thou, will thou join the dance?" _

**"_Oh thou truly hast no notion how delightful all t'will be,_**

_When the badger's reconstituted and we're feasting 'neath the trees."_

_But the_ _tortoise then replied, "'Tis with my eggs that I must stay,_

_For I know that on the morrow thou shalt again be on thy way."_

_Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance._

_Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. _

**"_What matters it that we shalt go?" the elleth then replied._**

"_For thy river shalt not follow, nor thy eggs join us in stride._

_All these waters doth pass 'round thee, on down Anduin to the sea._

_And on the morrow but thy memory shalt remain of us with thee._

_Will thou, won't thou, will thou, won't thou, will thou join the dance? _

_Will thou, won't thou, will thou, won't thou, will thou join the dance?"_

_**But the tortoise she demurred apace and to her clutch she swam.**_

_And declared in fluid verbiage not unlike a bearded clam,_

"_O 'tis not my way to tarry, nor upon the lawn to prance,_

_For my flippers art to stubby, so I shalt not join thy dance."_

_Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance._

_Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. _

**¹**(**_rél_**, daughter Sindarin)

In the stream the tortoise shook her head as she watched the Laiquende at her revels. _'Tis far indeed the Greenwood hath fallen since Lord Oldbark quit this realm, _she thought, _and 'tis hard to believe that once upon a time 'twas the kin of those camped thither who taught us our speech. Ahhh well, the days darken again as they art wont to do. From egg to egg we hath known the truth of it. Mayhaps better times shalt come again one day._ And with that she slipped into the stream with nary a splash and swam back to her nest.

Now upon the morrow the two ellith resumed their march. Eastward they made their way for another fortnight. They followed the trail as aforetime and in doing so, cleaved more closely to the verge of the Greenwood than the foothills of the Ered Mithrin, yet ever did those dreary mountains loom upon their left. So 'twas that upon 10 Narbeleth, (October 10th), their way turned half-south, for they had reached the eastern side of Calenglad.

These were strange lands to them both and Helluin in particular went forward with wariness. She marked a widening of the trail, though it still clove to the eaves of the forest, and further along, the prints of horses, which she deemed a week old. For two more days they traveled an empty land, seeing none save a few smaller animals. In the distance, some twenty leagues off to their southeast, a single mountain etched its hazy heights upon the horizon. Then in the morning of 13 Narbeleth, they heard the sound of hoof beats in the distance. A company of horsemen was't approaching up the trail. Hence they stopped and stood their ground, awaiting the North Men of the east.

They had not long to wait. Ere ten minutes had passed a bearded rider came into view from behind a low rise. He was't clad in simple leather pants and a tunic of coarse-spun wool. O'er it he wore a padded leather jerkin. A cape of fur flowed out behind him as he sat his mount, riding up the path at a canter. Upon his long and unruly blonde locks sat an unadorned helm of steel. A leaf-bladed spear he carried upright at his side and in his belt was't sheathed a short axe. As he came closer the two ellith marked the bow and quiver slung at his back. Trailing him by perhaps 5 fathoms came another dozen riders in a closer formation, all armed with spears and swords. As with the group that Helluin had met aforetime to the west of Calenglad, a final pair of riders bearing bows followed the main formation at 5 fathoms, bringing up the rear of the column.

Though they remained unnoticed in their cloaks of mixed greens, both ellith marked the riders clearly. Their count and armament was't noted and appraised. Hither rode a small band girded for sudden battle, a patrol perhaps, well armed for a skirmish. All this flashed before their eyes and was't committed to memory in a few seconds. 'Twas to be expected. More disturbing was't the grim expression of the lead rider and the nervous backward glances of the others. Indeed the hindmost of the company rode well 'nigh sideways in their saddles, searching for pursuit.

Beinvír cast a questioning glance at her partner and Helluin returned it, speaking silently eye to eye.

_I hear not any other riders, yet these Men art certainly ill at ease, _the dark warrior said, _and in this strange land, such leaves me unquiet at heart. Pray ready thy weapons and keep a close watch._

_Aye, these riders seem to expect some unseen danger that follows behind. I am ready._

The Green Elf had strung her bow and now held it in her left hand. Helluin flipped the edges of her cloak o'er her shoulders, the quicker to grasp her sword.

When the leading rider was't still some fathoms off his horse broke stride and shied forcing the rider to reign him to a halt. The following company halted as well, awaiting a signal, while'st those in the rear stopped and turned to face back whither they had come. The Man quickly mastered his mount and then gave his attention to the path. Thither he finally spied the two Elves and he gave a start ere he leveled his spear.

"I bid thee answer, art thou friend or foe to Lüdhgavia, Lord of the Riverlands?" he demanded.

"Travelers art we from afar," Beinvír began, "and know not thy lord's name or lands, yet we art friends to all who oppose the Great Enemy and the servants of the Shadow."

To this the Man gave pause for consideration.

Ere he could speak again, Helluin asked, "Know thou a captain named Ërlick? He I met upon a time, to the west of yonder forest. Thither he led his company seeking tidings of his lord's son, Lundhini, abducted by servants of the Sorcerer of Dól Gúldúr."

At her words the Man's eyes widened and muttering could be heard from the company. He stared hard at the two ellith, measuring them and their sincerity.

"Aye, Captain Ërlick I know," he admitted, "and he came home with sad tidings indeed. How come thou to know him and his errand?"

"'Twas after the completion of my own mission that I met Captain Ërlick and his riders, 'nigh Anduin the Great, beyond the western borders of the Greenwood. Thither we traded tidings, for I knew 'aught of he whom Ërlick sought. Indeed in the same cell were we held prisoner. Alas, I could save Lundhini not, for his spirit had fled ere I was't made prisoner."

"He was't kidnapped and murdered by the Sorcerer, 'tis said," the Man claimed, "and many fell servants hath he. Howsoever did thou escape him, while'st Lundhini did not, fine rider and able warrior that he was't?"

For some moments Helluin held the Man's eyes and in that time he was't constrained by her will and a vision arose within him such that he saw, encapsulated, a summary of her rampage within Dól Gúldúr. He saw the body of his lord's son hanging from its chains at Helluin's side and he saw the fighting in the dungeons. He saw the bodies of the enemy fall 'neath her sword and Ring. And last did he see the cairn wherein the dark Noldo had lain the body of the fallen. All this came to him in but a few heartbeats, leaving him pale and shaken.

Finally he shook himself and looked again upon the two ellith. Wary he was't now and ill at ease. The taller one had bewitched him and shown him mayhem unimaginable. She was't a foe beyond his reckoning, if indeed foe she was't. From behind him came an urgent call.

"Captain! The enemy is upon us!"

"They must hath left the trail some miles back and flanked us amidst the trees," one of the rear guard cried out.

At that moment, even as the Men grouped together and swords were drawn, the sounds of pursuit could finally be heard from beyond the rise. 'Twas a slavering and cursing that could signal only one kindred of creatures.

"Be thou friend or foe, thou shalt fight now or thou shalt die," the Man said to the two Elves ere he turned his mount and spurred forward to lead his company into battle.

Anguirél was't unsheathed in Helluin's hand and an arrow strung at Beinvír's bow in the blink of an eye. The riders readied themselves to fight. O'er the rise came a company of Yrch numbering some five dozens. They charged forward in a close-packed mob, jostling and shoving, and waving their cruel blades o'er their heads. The Men mastered their horses and charged to run them down.

(Beinvír's song in this chapter is based upon _"The Lobster Quadrille"_, from _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, _by Lewis Carroll (_C. L. Dodgson)_, ©1865. Formatting here wouldn't allow a space between verses so first lines are in **bold** type.)

**To Be Continued**

_Thanks for the reviews, Elven-Cat2 and Valindil!!!!_


	101. In An Age Before Chapter 101

**In An Age Before – Part 101

* * *

**

**Chapter Sixty-three**

_**East of Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

_For 'nigh on 5,000 years I hath fought this kindred and in all that time their battle tactics hath changed 'naught a wit, _Helluin thought as she marked the disordered charge of the Yrch. She had first faced them as a warrior in the Dagor Aglareb, in the 60th year of the First Age of the Sun. Thither had she first given free rein to her rage, and coming to the upper vale of Sirion with the host of Turgon her king, she had slain o'er four hundreds in as many days.

Now against the fifteen riders, the 60-odd Glam showed no fear, only a bloodthirsty native mania, inflamed by their advantage in numbers. That would change all too quickly, the dark warrior knew, for perhaps a third of that number would be ridden down in the Men's initial assault. No mortal creature, no matter how fierce, could stand against the sheer inertia of a charging full-grown steed carrying an armed Man. Indeed most surprising to her was't the willingness of the Yrch to attack in broad daylight, a condition they had always shunned.

_Why doth they not await the evening camp and assail these riders 'neath the cover of night? T'would be in their favor. _Yet the answer quickly came to her, bringing a chill to her heart. _Only the fear of a master more fell than their own cowardice could inspire them so, _she realized. _That or treachery!_

Immediately she cast her glance to the verge of the Greenwood. The nearest trees stood not fifteen fathoms to the west. Amidst the shadowy boles she marked shifting shadows of a darker kind and her blood quickened.

"Beinvír! The wood!" She cried out, pointing thither with Anguirél's tip.

The Green Elf spun to her right and in a moment saw what her partner had seen. Her first arrow took flight a heartbeat later and her second an instant after that. Ere the first found its mark, three shafts had gone airborne, and then she paused, searching for a fourth target. Seeing none, a questioning glance she cast to her lover.

_An ambush of so few, meldanya?_

The Noldo too was't scanning the tree line with her keen eyes, looking for a telltale motion or a glint of light off an arrowhead or blade. Neither did she see and she could offer only a shrug in response.

At that moment the charging riders slammed into the enemy. The pounding hooves of the racing horses did as much damage as the Men's steel and shrieks of pain filled the air. A few clashes of blades Helluin heard, but more frequently, only the dull thuds of bodies being flung aside and trodden down. When she turned to watch the fighting, 'twas much as she'd expected. The Men had ridden fully through their enemies and behind them the field was't littered with stricken Yrch, twitching and writhing and bleeding upon the ground. The remnant, about forty strong, stood in a close-knit group, brandishing their weapons and cursing.

Now the riders had turned their mounts and they came against their enemies again. The horses waded in amongst the Glam while'st their riders swung their blades in deadly arcs. Yet 'twas not all one-sided now, for the Men were moving but slowly and the advantage of their horses' power was't greatly reduced. The Yrch were still numerous enough to engage the Men two or three to one, and in some places they succeeded in o'erpowering a rider and dragging him to the ground. Such was't the fate of the leader, hauled down off his steed by a crazed Orch who had flung aside his sword and leapt to wrap both arms 'round the Man's waist. Upon any other day t'would hath been his undoing.

At his fall Helluin snatched the Sarchram and prepared to fling it, but ere she could make her cast an arrow from the Green Elf's bow found its mark in the Orch's eye. Scarce more than that had been exposed from behind the Man's body, but 'twas enough.

The Man recoiled as his foe's head snapped back with the impact. The arrow had passed his ear so close he'd heard it whistle through his own hair. The Orch's grip went slack, releasing the shocked Man to face two more foes with only his short axe. As he squared off against those Yrch he realized that neither of his own archers could hath fired that shot. Like himself they were wholly engaged hand to hand, and besides, such unnatural accuracy was't unknown.

Only a short while longer did the battle continue ere came a pause. By then three men had fallen amidst clumps of Glam, but o'er half the Yrch lay stricken upon the battlefield. Then the air was't filled with hooting cries and guttural voices. From the Greenwood came the ambush that Helluin had suspected. Another full company of Yrch, 60 foot-soldiers, their captain, and his two lieutenants, charged onto the field and made haste for the battle. Like a black blight spreading 'cross a farmer's crops did they come, heedless of Anor's light above or the dozen foes they expected to slaughter. Already they could well 'nigh taste the riders' flesh, spitted and barely scorched o'er their campfire.

Now the remaining Yrch of the first group renewed their attacks on the dozen riders, who fought with desperation and the failing of their hopes.

Helluin's decision took but an instant to make. She tore her hauberk from her travel bag and donned it, and then with Anguirél in one hand and the Sarchram in the other, she charged.

Behind her, Beinvír loosed her last arrows, firing up to three in a single drawing of her bow. Her quiver had held two-dozen shafts. Four she had already fired. In just o'er ten seconds she shot the remaining twenty, dropping one lieutenant and slaying nineteen other soldiers. After o'er 4,000 years at archery, the notion of not hitting a mark was't as foreign to her as the thought of not firing at all. The bow was't still falling from her hand as she shucked off the now empty quiver. Then as she drew her fighting knives and charged to follow her beloved, she heard Helluin's battle cry ring out for the first time in almost 900 years.

"_Beltho huiniath! Baw díhenas!_**¹**

**¹**(**Baw díhenas!**_(lit. transl.)**No forgiveness. **(vern. transl.)**No mercy!...**_**_baw_**(no!) + **_díheno-_**(forgive) + **_-as_**(object v. suff, _-ness_) **Sindarin)**

That cry too did the Yrch hear, and from some dark lore or their collective racial memory came the visceral fear of those words. The rumor of slaughter and death since time immemorial screamed in the very blood in their veins. O'er two hundred and fifty generations of their kind had feared that battle cry; in Gorgoroth and Eriador, and in the almost forgotten wars of Beleriand. And in Dól Gúldúr of late. _"Kill 'em all!";_ that cry had galvanized enemies and heralded defeat, and now it shook the certainty of their resolve. For a moment their charge faltered and they turned towards the voice. From thither came a fast moving black shadow, within which flared the terrifying light of sapphire eyes. In its right hand a long and bitter black-bladed sword was't raised to strike, and in its left, a silvery Ring that shone blinding bright 'neath the hated sun. But most terrifying of all, from the accursed sword came an inhuman voice, cold and heartless, that rejoiced in shedding blood and crushing bone.

"_Baw díhenas hé aur!_**¹ **_Im aníro sereg!_**²**_"_

**¹**(**Baw díhenas hé aur!**_(lit. transl.)**No forgiveness this day! **(vern. transl.)**No mercy this day!...**_**_baw_**(no!) + **_díheno-_**(forgive) + **_-as_**(object v. suff, _-ness_) + **_hé_**(this) **_+ aur_**(day) **Sindarin**) **²**(**Im aníron sereg! _I want blood!...Im_**(1st pers subj pro, _I_) **_+ aníro_**(want, w/ v imp suff, _-o_) + **_sereg_**(blood) **Sindarin**)

For a moment the Yrch knew not whether to continue their charge or turn to face the new menace. Indeed the impulse to flee back into the forest touched them even more deeply, one and all. With twenty of his number already lying dead by the Green Elf's arrows, their captain was't no more decisive than his soldiers. So 'twas in those moments when their morale was't stricken that Helluin slammed into their ranks.

Now if the charge of the riders had been destructive to the first company of Yrch, Helluin's charge was't no less deadly. Thence came the ancient Noldo against her enemies in a blur of motion, and Anguirél's edge cleaved all before it, flesh, sinew, leather, and steel. In Helluin's hand the black sword rejoiced to anoint itself with the blood of the Yrch. As in the long past days of the First Age of the Sun, that battle fury for which she was't known and feared was't unleashed. So Helluin of the Host of Finwe came upon them like a cyclone, the whistling of steel and the screams of terror drawing even the attention of the embattled Men. 'Twas as if a Valier had come to do battle in Middle Earth. The spray of blood went up, and the heads and limbs of the slain took flight from bodies hewn and flung aside as if by a whirlwind. Ere even Beinvír could join the fray a dozen had fallen and the Yrch were turning to flee.

Screaming, _"Beltho Huiniath!"_ at the top of her lungs, Helluin pursued them, manic, eyes blazing with sapphire blue fire, a _ril_ of silver and gold shrouding her black-armored form. Unable to help themselves, the mortal warriors turned to look upon her rampage in shock and awe. Never had they imagined that such prowess could be. No tales of the Elder Days of the west had come to their ears aforetime, for in their eastern homelands no lore told of Beleriand. Even the War of the Last Alliance was't barely known to them. And never had one of their kindred witnessed the deadly nature of the Eldar at war.

Beside Helluin now the Green Elf slipped amidst her foes, wielding her long fighting knives in blurred arcs of silver in a dance far too fast for mortal eyes to follow. Indeed the riders saw 'naught but her form pivoting and advancing, while'st around her the stricken bodies of her enemies fell. Of the 63 Yrch, soon but four remained, fleeing for their lives to the south. Ere they made the crest of the ridge came the shrieking whine of the Sarchram, and the _mithril_ Ring cut them down, ricocheting from one to another ere it took flight again and returned to Helluin's hand.

In the next moment the Men broke from their astonishment and fell upon the last of their foes, and they slew them as they stood, quaking and bereft of hope. When they turned back they saw Helluin cleaning her weapons and Beinvír gathering her arrows.

Now the captain of the riders knew not what to expect of his new allies. Indeed he approached them with some measure of fear. Surprised was't he to hath the ellith's aid in the gathering and burning of the dead Yrch. More surprised was't he to hath their help in the tending of his own fallen. Four riders had lost their lives in the skirmish, and these they set in hastily dug graves 'neath cairns of stones, to send hence their spirits to the company of their ancestors. As the Men stood silent and the evening sky darkened, Helluin raised her voice in a lament o'er the four mounds, an Elvish song of mourning in the Quenya tongue, once sung in the Hidden City. And though 'naught of her words did the Men understand, all were moved to tears by the purity of her voice and the strains of the tune, and great honor did the fallen hath of them; no less than had those remembered two Ages of the world aforetime in Nan-tathren, whither the folk of Tuor and Idril had sung for the slain of Gondolin. Thence did the Men raise too their own voices in the tongue of their people, in traditional warriors' songs, for they had no bard amongst them to compose individual dirges for the fallen.

Now when all the songs were sung and the Men had made their camp, the captain came to the soulmates and shared food and speech with them. In Westron, the Common Tongue of the Third Age of the Sun, much thanks for their aid did he lavish upon them. Then rather than continue his patrol with diminished company, he agreed to guide them whither they would go, and this was't hence, to the lord of his people. So 'twas that upon the morrow they decamped, and having still the mounts of the fallen riders, they horsed the two ellith and led them south. 'Twas a ride of six days ere Helluin and Beinvír came to the halls of the riders in the lands 'twixt Celduin and Carnen. Upon their way they passed south of the lonely mountain of Erebor, fording a narrow river north of a long lake. They turned then more easterly for some thirty leagues, 'cross a wide and grassy plain. Thither all seemed at peace, yet the riders kept sharp their lookouts and the Elves sensed a tension unabated in the Men and their horses.

At the company's homecoming there was't both rejoicing for the living and weeping for the fallen. But the captain led Helluin and Beinvír at once to the largest hall of wood, a crude dwelling to Helluin's eyes and an ugly one to Beinvír's. 'Twas, he proudly informed them, the Great Mead Hall of Lüdhgavia, Lord of the Riverlands. Thither beside the door post he set his spear so that it stood upright with his company's pennant displayed just 'neath its head. Helluin and Beinvír noted several others, each attesting to a company of riders now in the city.

Now in truth the Elves had smelt the settlement long ere they saw it. From afar they had marked the reek of too many horses held too close together for too long. 'Twas the muck of stables, cleaned from the stalls and piled 'nigh, compounding the native scent of the beasts. Thereafter the smells grew ever more oppressive to their fine senses. Midden heaps ringed the settlement, proffering the stench of decomposing food scraps, the refuse of tanneries, and the offal of butchered carcasses. Closer still and the evidence of the Men's daily living asserted itself. Thither rose the reek of unwashed bodies, rancid animal fat, wood smoke, and the emptying of chamber pots. The Elves choked back their gorge and breathed through their mouths as they walked the lanes, struggling to acclimate their senses ere they entered the hall. Being used to open spaces or the far more sanitary surroundings of Elvish or Dúnedain cities, both suffered greatly at their initial coming. 'Twas a torment to be repeated at each subsequent arrival.

'Twas thus that they entered the Great Hall of Lüdhgavia, half swooning with nausea. Beinvír had noted a row of hung fowl, dangling by their necks from the eaves, shedding feathers and dripping fluids as decomposition rendered their meat more tender and flavorful. She gagged softly and blinked in horror. Helluin marked the discarded bones of prior feasts lying 'nigh the front doors, gnawed clean by dogs for their gristle and marrow. Within the hall 'twas only worse; the miasma more compressed and deprived of any cleansing breeze.

A long and dim and smoky hall it was't, lit by the hearth and a few torches, whose inky smoke wafted upwards to be stifled and only slowly liberated through the roofing thatch and a small ventilation hole. Their eyes adjusted quickly to the murk, revealing a rush strewn floor littered with yet more bones, muddy patches evincing spilt mead or wine, and some food scraps. Amidst all this were set crude wooden benches and tables.

Slinking through the shadows were the king's dogs, gnawing scraps, lounging upon their sides, or going about their doggy business unabashed. Thither one squatted 'nigh a wall, spraying its urine. Another struggled to produce a stool, covered with flies ere it dropped to the floor. The animal turned for a sniff and recoiled at the smell. 'Cross the hall stood a circle of elated and filthy children, giggling as they beheld a pair of their canine playmates vigorously copulating. Facedown upon the foremost table was't a giant of a Man, clad in bearskins and leather, and surrounded by the past night's jugs and drinking horns and the platters of his feast. A gold fillet lay tumbled upon the tabletop amidst unruly yellow locks shot with grey. The captain led the Elves thither while'st the children marked the strangers with curious and watchful eyes.

Helluin and Beinvír could smell the king's inebriation from three fathoms. He fairly reeked of mead. The alcohol wafted hence from every pore of the Man's skin and flowed upon his labored exhalations. It very nearly eclipsed the nauseating top note fragrance of rancid animal fat upon his hands and the undertones of sweat and urine from his garments.

No military or courtly bearing governed the captain's approach. No herald proclaimed his guests' presence to the monarch. The trio simply marched up, armed and unchallenged, 'til they stood behind the snoring Man. Then the captain grabbed his king's shoulder and gave him a rough shaking.

"Rouse thyself from thy sloth, Lüdhgavia! Thou hath guests!"

The captain had leant down to fairly shout in his sovereign's ear. The king gave a gasp and jerked upright in his seat, slinging strings of saliva and tumbling his crown upon the table while'st shaking his head. The crown he fumbled for as he muttered curses, and he finally reset it a-kilter upon his brow as he blinked and turned his head to regard the three figures with a bleary and bloodshot gaze.

"Huh? Whither…whence?" He blubbered in the Common Tongue. "'Tis the morn?"

"'Tis well past noon, O King," the captain replied.

"Oh fie! Would that someone had announced it to me. I am a busy Man…" Lüdhgavia trailed off, registering his guests. "Who art these…" he noted the bright eyes and pointed ears of the strangers and blinked again, squinting and regarding them as closely as his blurred vision would allow. "I should say rather, what art these visitors, pray tell?"

"My lord, they art Elvish warriors, come from afar. They hath proven to be fell allies, indeed well 'nigh invincible at arms, they art. They delivered my company from certain death but seven days past."

The king nodded and searched his place for a full cup, but finding 'naught bit dregs, sat straighter and called out in a great voice, "Ho! Bring mead for thy king and his guests! We art thirsty!"

He then stared about the hall in anticipation. Some moments later a doorway at the rear of the hall opened and a serving woman came forth bearing a jug and mugs. She was't youthful, and though comely after a fashion, stood poorly clad in a homespun woolen skirt and blouse with lank blonde hair trailing down her back. She stared at the Elves with increasing curiosity as she approached, her mouth opening by degrees 'til when she stood 'nigh to serve, she gaped at them in astonishment like a fish. The captain smacked her 'cross the back of her head with an open palm.

"Cease thy laziness and serve thy king, wench," he commanded.

She snarled and made as if to curse back at him, but then held her tongue before her king and served out the mead as ordered. When she was't done she stared again at Helluin and Beinvír for a moment ere retreating whence she had come with many a look back o'er her shoulder.

"I swear that 'till her breath fails that one shalt gossip of that which she hast seen," the captain carped.

"Aye, and speculate the more at that which she hast not," the king agreed while'st looking after her as she left. To his guests he explained, "she is my niece, the girl-child of my fallen eldest brother. I look to her welfare 'til she marries as is my duty. Alas, she is a dullard and a gossip, but a good child at heart." He sighed and turned back to his guests after watching her departure.

The two ellith could but nod. About them the children had gathered as an audience.

"Hither art Helluin and Beinvír," the captain said as he gestured to each elleth in turn, "warriors from a land called Eriador, which lies far to the west of the great forest. They art travelers…"

He trailed off, realizing that he knew 'naught of their homelands, their errand, or their allegiances. Somehow such normal queries had fled his mind while'st in the Elves' company, yet only now did that strike him as odd. For their parts, Helluin and Beinvír had subtly discouraged his interest in their background and mission at every turn in their conversations, prompting him to other topics or reinforcing his lapse with subconscious suggestions. Indeed they had held the captain in what amounted to a shallow state of hypnosis for the past week. They'd had no intention of declaring their desire to convince his king to migrate west, in hope of providing aid to Gondor.

Lüdhgavia was't eyeing his captain o'er the rim of his mug as he drained it, finishing off the last with a flourish, a belch, and a forceful return of the vessel to the tabletop.

"Know thou 'aught of those whom thou hast brought before me?" Lüdhgavia asked.

The captain could only mumble uncertainly as he tried to recall somewhat of his chats with the two ellith o'er the past seven days. It seemed now impossible to him that he could hath listened to them for so long and learnt so little of them. Indeed save for their names, the name of their homeland, and the general direction in which it lay, 'naught else could he recall. 'Twas not even sufficient for a proper introduction. At last he indicated the Noldo and stammered, "she doth sing quite well."

Lüdhgavia choked on a swig of mead, (having taken up the captain's unclaimed mug), and looked sharply at him as he coughed to clear his throat.

"Thou hast brought me two strangers, of whom one may perhaps be a minstrel?"

"Nay," the captain claimed in desperation. "They art fell warriors. She is unmatched with sword," he said, casting his eyes to Helluin, "while'st her companion is precocious with her bow. This at least I know of a certainty. They slew a horde of foes ere my company did the same."

At this claim the king gaped at his captain in shocked disbelief. He then looked even more closely at the two ellith who only grinned at him in return. With a shake of his head he drained his second mug, and after wiping his mouth upon his forearm, spat and gave in to hysterics. The captain's claim was't wholly unbelievable. When he finally mastered himself again he declared to the captain.

"Thou hast surely lost thy mind, old friend. Say thou that each of them slew 30 ere thy warriors could slay but four apiece?"

The captain gulped 'neath his king's withering gaze and replied only with a nod, 'yea'.

"In fact I slew 33 and Beinvír 30, but thou must add one to her tally for her shot that saved the life of thy captain when he was't unhorsed, O King," Helluin reported.

Beside her, the Green Elf thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement.

Again the king shook his head in doubt, but rather than gainsay his guests he rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Whom doth thou name the best archer amongst us?" He asked the captain.

"That would be Borhtan, without a doubt."

"Summon him to the green at once. I shalt see for myself the skills of our guest."

"Aye, my lord," the captain answered crisply.

He glanced quickly at the Green Elf and his right eyelid fluttered in what could hath been a wink. He then marched off with a rapid stride and the Elves could well 'nigh see the smile on his face as he made to leave the hall.

After the king watched him go he sighed and faced his guests. The hint of a grin curled his lips.

"Either thou shalt prove his words or not," he said as he stood to tower o'er even Helluin by well 'nigh half a head. "In truth it matters little since thou art not soldiers at my command. Still, if half what he claims is true I should not miss such mastery." And with that he gestured the two Elves hence and led them out of his hall, a gaggle of children following in their wake.

Back in the daylight Helluin and Beinvír breathed sighs of relief. The lesser reek of outdoor air seemed a blessing from Eru and they inhaled deeply of it.

The king was't making his way towards a long greenway that ran from his hall to the market, beyond which lay many lanes and the city gate. The two Elves followed. Many riders lounged about that space, taking their ease while'st drinking, jesting, and speaking amongst themselves in small groups. Many too were the common people, going about their business in the market. Most nodded to acknowledge their lord as he passed with his guests, and these drew their share of curious glances. The king shaded his eyes as he walked, until they stood some twenty fathoms from the doors of the hall. Thither he stopped and turned, and they found themselves facing east with the sun behind them.

"Me thinks this is a fair distance to test thy bow, young lady," he said to Beinvír, "for t'will surely be a fair test for Borhtan…that sot." He chuckled to himself as the children gathered in a semi-circle behind them.

For her part the Green Elf looked back towards the hall, wondering what target they might attempt. Helluin allowed herself a sigh and placed her hands upon her hips. _I am hungry and surely Beinvír is famished. How long_, she wondered, _shalt we stand idly awaiting the arrival of this 'best bowman of the riders'?_ In looking towards the hall, she deemed a small knot of a pinky finger's thickness centered in a board to the right of door to be a fair target at forty yards. Some ten minutes later the pounding hooves of a pair of horses announced the return of the captain with his chosen archer.

Now Borhtan was't a tall and lanky Man with equally long and lanky hair of reddish gold. This appeared wet, seeming greasy, and wildly disheveled, as thou he had escaped of late from a swamp. A quiver of arrows made from a goat skin and capped with its empty, flopping head was't hung o'er his shoulder and he carried a worn long-bow of wood. Though dressed as a rider, when he dismounted his gait evinced a pronounced limp derived from a club-foot. He stopped and bowed to the king, then smiled at the Elves, revealing a total of seven teeth. Thence he looked back to Lüdhgavia for orders.

"Borhtan, the captain has't named thee our best archer," the king declared, indicating Beinvír with a gesture, "and so I hath need of thee to test the skills of this…guest."

The Man brought up his bow, and this he strung with a grunt and checked with a twang ere he nodded to himself in approval. He then asked, "To what target shalt I send my arrow, me lord?"

The king shrugged and waved a hand vaguely towards the hall, saying only, "Choose something…challenging."

Borhtan squinted thither and shook his head in consternation. Behind him the captain appeared ready to disagree as well.

"Sire, should someone exit the hall untimely, t'would be their doom," the archer said.

"Bah! 'Tis no one thither," the king said after quickly counting the children, "and the dogs can't open the doors." To himself he muttered, "t'would be no tragedy to be less a hound or two."

Borhtan shrugged doubtfully but hesitated to gainsay his king while'st the captain too held his peace. Instead, he drew an arrow from his ragged quiver and raised his bow.

"I say the heart of yonder deer carven upon the left-hand door," he declared, naming his target, "t'will be a death shot as if on a hunt."

The king nodded his approval and Borhtan drew and sighted. Beinvír readied her bow as well, choosing an arrow and fitting it to the string. Ere he fired, the Man cast his glance to the Green Elf, and catching her eye added, "one shot, m'Lady?"

Beinvír murmured her agreement and Borhtan prepared to fire, setting his feet and drawing the string back to his ear. He sighted for a moment and then released, the shaft flying straight and true. Beside him, Beinvír drew and aimed.

Borhtan's arrow was't only a fraction of a heartbeat aloft when the door jerked open and the serving wench stood forth, her breast well 'nigh perfectly supplanting that of the carved deer. 'Twas ill luck and poor timing of amazing proportions, and scarce time there was't even for the archer's mouth to form a shocked "O". The maid was't surely dead, for his aim had been true.

Yet even as the door had begun to move, Beinvír had dropped to one knee, turning her bow sideways, and she loosed her arrow after that of the rider. Its course was't the same as his, save at a slight up-angle. But the great difference 'twixt his bow and hers made itself known in less than a heartbeat, for though 'twas a foot shorter, the Green Elf's bow was't recurved in form, made of both yew and horn layered together and bound with sinew in its making as was't the way of the Laiquendi. The design had been tailored for stalking more easily in the dense forests of Ossiriand and its size belied its power.

Scarcely two fathoms ere the doors the Green Elf's arrow caught and clipped Borhtan's arrow in flight, shunting it aside and deflecting its own course so that both came to stick in the lentil o'er the left hand door, just above the serving girl's head. She recoiled from the thump of the impacts by reflex, noting the archers for the first time, and then, realizing her peril, fainted dead away upon the threshold.

Beinvír slowly rose to her feet while'st Borhtan simply stood breathing heavily with relief. Behind him the captain was't shaking his head in amazement. Helluin smiled her approval of her partner's shooting, but the king was't already in motion, racing back towards the hall as fast as his feet could carry him. It seemed that any trace of his drunkenness had been left behind as if in the wake of his haste. When he reached the doors he gathered the swooned girl in his arms to carry her within the hall, and this he did with surprising gentleness, not even looking back at his guests.

Now left alone on the green amidst a ring of cheering children, Borhtan shouldered his bow and offered his thanks to the Green Elf.

"Thou hast saved me from just that tragedy which I foresaw. Indeed I deem 'twas meant to happen, so perfect was't the timing. I shalt say further that thou art the finest archer I hath ever seen, and I hath seen many. Thou hast trained long and hard, no doubt, to gain such a skill." He stood shaking his head in wonder.

Beinvír smiled at his awe. Her shot had flown true, but to her, 'twas not remarkable, for she had fired but one arrow from her string rather than two or three.

"Know thou 'aught of her kindred or the nature of her life?" Helluin asked seriously.

Borhtan shook his head 'no'. Both of his king's guests were strangers to him.

"We art of Elven kind and her folk hath long lived by the bow. She hast practiced at archery for 'nigh on 4,400 years," the Noldo told him. "Her shot was't a good one, not only for its accuracy, but yet more for its saving of a life. 'Tis rarer to fire for the sake of preserving a life than taking one."

Borhtan stood staring at the tall warrior, not knowing whether to believe Helluin's claims or to scoff. He'd seen the shorter woman's skill, but what had been said was't far beyond his experience. N'er in historical times had any of his folk met Elves. Into the Greenwood they seldom went and when they did, Thranduil's folk avoided them. The few Avari of the eastern lands had shunned them yet the more and only in the most ancient legends of the riders were the Elder Children of the One mentioned at all. In such tales they were magical folk who disappeared before one's eyes or played tricks upon them. They had been neither allies nor friends. Borhtan was't a simple Man and in truth knew not what to think of them save one thing only.

"I know 'naught of Elves," he admitted, "yet thou hast surely saved me from my king's wrath. His brother-daughter is dearer to him than he is wont to say. For the most part he would hath us believe himself put upon by her presence. Yet her father was't dear to him, the eldest prince of his father's house and his childhood hero…and his niece much like a daughter, for our Sire is without wife. I fear the judgment her death would hath set upon me."

"But he commanded thee to shoot thither," Beinvír said reasonably.

Borhtan shook his head.

"Aye, but t'would hath made scant difference had she been struck. I know my king," he said with a nod and the hint of a grin. "Oft he speaks ere giving full thought to the outcome," and in a lower voice he added, "me thinks 'tis the mead that oft speaks for him."

When he saw their looks of disbelief, the captain spoke to support Borhtan.

"He speaks true," the captain said, clapping the archer on the shoulder and speaking for the first time. "Lüdhgavia hast ever been a greater warrior than a king. As a youth he oft rode out with few at his side and dispatched our enemies bravely. N'er hath he shrunk from a fight. But upon his father's passing he became king, and such was't ever less his interest than contesting at arms. Indeed I deem happier he would hath been to be a captain while'st leaving the throne to his elder brother."

At the questioning glances from the Elves the captain continued.

"In this last two years hath fallen Lüdhgavia's father, his elder brother, Lundhini, and his younger brother, Midufavia. His elder had been taken by the Sorcerer of the Accursed Wood, and when his fate finally became known earlier this year, Lüdhgavia was't given the crown."

"And their father?" Helluin asked.

"Taken by drink long ere he was't taken by death," the captain answered sadly. "He was't gone in all but his body for well 'nigh the last seven years. Lundhini long spoke for him and all looked to his coming kingship, but alas, 'twas not the be. When the prince was't lost the king drank himself into his grave."

"Aye," Borhtan nodded sadly and agreed, "Lundhini should hath been king, with Lüdhgavia as First Captain and Midufavia as Loremaster and King's Bard."

"Alas for Lundhini, for I knew him not save as a corpse, held prisoner in the Sorcerer's dungeon long after his life had fled," said Helluin after some moments.

Borhtan looked at her in shock.

"'Twas thee of whom Ërlick spoke then?" Borhtan asked.

"Aye," the Noldo answered.

A smile widened upon the archer's face.

"Fell warrior indeed," he exclaimed. "And I deemed thy defeat of the Yrch company a week past to be a singular deed worthy of many songs. 'Twas rather a lesser thing for thee, I wager, after the emptying of Dól Gúldúr!"

"T'would be so indeed, Borhtan," the captain said, "save that each combat is a thing to itself and ever is victory welcome no matter what the count of the fallen." Then turning to the two ellith he said, "Of Ërlick's tale hath many heard tell. Surely thy folk art few and 'tis not to be wondered that thou art the same warrior he met to the west of the forest but a few seasons ago. Of this she had told me aforetime," he added to Borhtan while'st nodding to Helluin, "and so I doubted her prowess not. I wager both thou and our king shalt believe it too now."

"Indeed so," the archer said. Then to Beinvír he spoke an oath. "Thy companion is a great warrior and all our folk hath a debt to her for laying our prince to rest with honor. Yet 'tis to thee that I owe much more upon this day, for saving my arrow from slaying my king's last kin. For this I pledge my aid and that of my house to thee at need," and then with a smile he added, "though I deem thy need shalt doubtless be lesser than our own."

At his noble words the Green Elf bowed her head a moment in acceptance, though she too doubted that her need of aid from this disheveled Man or his descendants would ever be felt dire. 'Twas more for the sake of warriors becoming allies and friends that she accepted.

"Thy oath honors us both, noble archer," she said, "and I am proud to accept thy aid."

And little could any standing thither upon that day know aforetime just how valuable that aid would one day be.

"I deem that our king shalt be occupied a while," the captain said to Borhtan and the Elves, "and in the meantime t'would be well for us to slake our thirst and fill our bellies for we hath ridden far this day. Thou art hither as guests," he said to Helluin and Beinvír, "Pray join us for some victuals?"

The Green Elf's stomach took his words as a cue to grumble and the Noldo grinned at her partner's embarrassment.

"I should say thou speaks the truth, O Captain, and we should be honored to join thee at table," Helluin replied. Beside her Beinvír nodded her agreement.

"Then I shalt lead thee hence to the Prancing Mare, whither the finest of food and drink in the city is to be had," the captain offered.

'Twas shortly later that the four of them made their way to a large hall that stood close by. So famished were the Elves that even the row of fowl dangling from the eaves stayed them not. And they joined the patrons in the common room, finding a warm and friendly company gathered thither, eager to take their ease and to hear stories. 'Twas many hours ere they were called again to the Great Hall and into the presence of the king.

**To Be Continued**

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My apologies for the delays in updating, and my sinceerest thanks to my reviewers. I beg your indulgence and continued patience. Rest assured that this tale will be finished. (Personally I hate abandoned stories, lol). 


	102. In An Age Before Chapter 102

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**Chapter Sixty-four**

_**East of Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now 'twas not 'til Anor had set and Ithil risen that the two ellith came again to the Great Hall of Lüdhgavia. Thither they had been summoned by grimy and o'erly serious youth of perhaps ten summers who was't entrusted with his king's errands as a page. Helluin and Beinvír followed this urchin forthwith as was't commanded, finding the hall more noisesome and no less aromatic than aforetime. Indeed the board was't set, the mead a'flowing, and the gathered Riders raucous in their cups. Loud were their revels, with much boasting, yapping dogs, atonal singing, and drunken laughter, all attesting to a boisterous celebration in progress. The stench of sweaty Man-flesh was't so strong as to make the Elves wish for a company of Yrch to spit-roast them all for to offer mercy to their senses. Atop this stench lay a reek of wood smoke, a miasma of clotted grease and burnt meat, and the sour aroma of stale spilt mead. 'Twas enough to set their entrails to flight. Thankful were they for the tavern's fare, for neither deigned to eat a bite all night.

In the torch light they made their way after the page, finally coming to stand before the high table and the seat of Lüdhgavia, he being already wild-eyed and drunk. About him were clustered his most favored knights, hoisting mugs and jesting amongst themselves. Helluin spied Captain Ërlick seated thither and gave him a nod of greeting when she caught his eye. For his part, the captain choked on his mead in surprise at seeing her, then noticed Beinvír and stared all the harder, his glance flicking 'twixt the two of them. He rose and seemed about to speak a greeting, but his king beat him to it.

"Welcome, my…unusual guests," he proclaimed after belching long and hearty. ""Thou hast saved my brother-daughter from certain death this day," he said, nodding at Beinvír, who gracefully bowed to him. He hawked and spat a mouthful of phlegm upon the floor, ere wiping his lips upon his sleeve and continuing with, "and I heard 'twas thou that hast lain my brother to rest with honor," he said to Helluin, who dipped her head but bowed not, being more than a little appalled at his lack of gentility. He struck her as the least regal lord she had met in many a century.

Indeed for her part the ancient Noldo was't given to wondering just how her old friend Finrod had felt when he'd encountered the people of Bëor, at the coming of the First House of the Atani to Beleriand in the First Age of the Sun. The Edain had been little more than savages in those days, and though mostly noble at heart, still savages none the less. Thence did Helluin recall the disorienting imagery she'd discovered within the mind of Balar son of Balan, whom she and her beloved had rescued from the house of Iarwain ben-Adar. _Ugh, _she thought,_ only now can I fully appreciate the patience and charity of my old friend Felagund. Whereat one Man alone was't confusing even while'st sober, this whole culture is well 'nigh abysmal in its lack of refinement. Whyfore should Olórin desire them to come west? _With a sigh of resignation though she thought, _Ahhh well, 'tis hardly my place to question the wisdom of a Maia. I only pray 'tis not his newfound mortal raiment that hast addled his wits of late. _

"…hath heard the tale of Captain Ërlick," King Lüdhgavia said, gesturing to the captain. The king was't just concluding after Helluin's lapse of attention. A few nearby Men applauded by stamping their feet and spilling their mead.

Having missed his words for the most part, Helluin could only nod in agreement, expecting such to suffice as a response amidst such drunken company. 'Twas apparently sufficient, for the king then reclaimed his seat and his mug, spat again, (this time striking a passing dog), and thereafter paid the Elves no further attention.

Shortly later Helluin and Beinvír shared speech with Captain Ërlick, who for some reason seemed less inebriated than the rest of the gathered riders.

"Hail and well met, O captain," the dark warrior offered. "'Tis good fortune to see thee again and well."

"Aye, and for my part too," Ërlick agreed, "and I hath heard tell that thou hast again aided our folk, thou and thy friend," he added, nodding to the Green Elf, "and this time in battle but a week past. No love of the Yrch hast thou…this I know from aforetime. Now t'would seem again true that the enemy of our enemy is our friend. I rejoice for it, for our enemies art many."

"Indeed?" Asked the Green Elf. "Some Yrch we hath seen east of the Greenwood. Art there others hither to vex thee?"

The captain sighed and took a sip from his cup. It seemed an astonishing exhibition of restraint amidst the prevailing company.

"Aye, our enemies seem many and seem the more with each passing year. Yrch, Easterling Men, and even the accursed fire-worshippers from beyond Rhûn. Though a long way off, still we hath seem them at times. Some even came hither in the service of the Sorcerer, or in flight from unrest in their on lands, to make their mischief in the forest. We must needs be vigilant these days, looking ever to the safety of our herds and those of our folk who live in scattered holdings south and east."

The two Elves nodded in understanding. Ërlick's mention of, _the accursed fire-worshippers from beyond Rhûn_ confirmed 'aught thatthey'd long suspected. The cadres of enemies that Sauron had mustered in the War of the Last Alliance had included the ancestors of many who had survived, festering in their homelands to the east whither they preserved their hatred of all free peoples and their allegiance to the Dark Lord.

"Indeed we art the enemies of thy enemies, Captain Ërlick," Helluin assured the Man, "and hath been so for many thousands of years. So long as we walk thy lands thy folk may count upon our aid should the need arise."

The captain nodded seriously in gracious thanks.

"Thy offer I value most highly," he said to Helluin, "for after meeting thee aforetime we took our way south at thy direction and my company passed into the precincts of Dól Gúldúr. We found it silent, save for the crying of crows, the squabbling of vultures, and the snarling of dogs. Feasting they were," he said appearing pale at the memory. "We came even to the gates of the Sorcerer's tower and in the courtyard counted no less than forty-odd of the enemy fallen. It seemed they had been slain while'st in flight."

Helluin nodded in agreement with the captain's count. Her perfect Elvish memory deemed his tally quite accurate.

"N'er into the tower did we venture, and yet from thither came such a reek of death as would draw every carrion fowl for a hundred miles. No doubt the count within exceeded the count without. And all these, I deem, fell by thy hand."

Here he looked Helluin in the eye more closely, and she held his gaze. For a heartbeat he was't constrained by her will. Thence did she confirm his suspicions with a short vision, and a soft gasp escaped him as he shuddered at the sight of it. Down dim and dismal corridors far 'neath the ground had she taken his sight. Thither had the slaughter proceeded, the bodies of Yrch and Easterling falling before her blades as if stricken by an enchanted plague. Blood sprayed up in the flickering light of torches and the flaring _ril _of her own rage. In the vision their screams were silent, the slain deprived of sound to accompany their gaping mouths, yawning wide in shrieks of pain and terror like the faces of the mummified dead. With a blink Helluin released him and the Man stood shivering and grim of face ere he mastered himself of the horror, hardened soldier though he was't.

"What ails thee, captain?"

The serving wench, niece of the king, had approached while'st Ërlick's attention was't held by the Noldo, and the girl had marked his pallor with visible upset.

"'Twas 'naught but a vision, Brekka, a gift of my friend, Helluin," Ërlick told her.

"'Twas a gift indeed?" She asked him doubtfully.

The girl turned and looked at the Elves, with a flash of resentment directed at Helluin which was't quickly squelched 'neath her renewed curiosity. Then, recalling herself, she curtsied to them, for they were guests of the king and to the shorter one she owed her life.

"M-my th-thanks," she stammered to Beinvír, "f-for saving my life, this afternoon."

The Green Elf nodded to her and offered a small smile, trying to set her more at ease.

"Glad was't I to save thee," Beinvír told her sincerely. "'Twas an ill-fate that set you before Borhtan's arrow."

The girl gulped, recalling all too clearly how close she had been to joining her ancestors.

"I too am glad thou hath survived," Ërlick told her gently. He was't rewarded with a broad smile which lit Brekka's eyes and transformed the girl's face from plain. Indeed the Elves marked how the expression made her beautiful. They marked too the fond look that passed 'twixt the captain and the king's niece.

_Hmmmmm, _thought the Green Elf, _so, their hearts art turned towards one another, and a handsome couple they make._

For her part, Helluin noted that Captain Ërlick was't the first to speak the girl's name. Save for the king's reaction that afternoon he seemed the only one to regard her favorably at all. _'Tis good to see that not all hither deem her 'aught but a burden to their lord's house. Her situation is scarcely her fault and the sorrow of her father's death must still remain close to her heart. Alas, 'twas I who hath gifted her that dread news…though for once not with the words of my own mouth. _

"I am Helluin, of the Host of Finwe," the dark Noldo said, "and thy savior is Beinvír Laiquende. We hail from Eriador, west of the forest and the mountains that lie beyond. I too am glad thou fell not so untimely upon this day."

Again the girl curtsied, more formally this time, adding a dip of her head. Despite her flash of anger at Helluin for the vision that had so upset the captain, she felt the warrior was't due the respect of a knight. She seemed unnaturally tall and powerfully built for a woman, and dressed in her armor and girt with her longsword the Noldo projected a harder and more fell presence than the Green Elf. And better than most, she knew Captain Ërlick's tale of Dól Gúldúr.

"Thou art Elvish folk, I hath heard tell?" She hesitantly ventured, unsure of how her curiosity would be received. Still she couldn't keep from asking Helluin, "'Twas thou who found my father in the Sorcerer's dungeons?"

And once begun, the questioning continued with growing enthusiasm for most of that evening. While'st Beinvír was't willing to indulge Brekka, Helluin was't reminded of Inthuiril and her interrogation following her liberation from the dungeons of the Sorcerer. Helluin let her partner answer most of the queries.

For his part, Ërlick paid close attention. Little enough did he or any other amongst the riders know of Elves. Indeed thankful to Brekka was't he, for she asked much without the shame or self-consciousness he would hath felt and he too learnt from the answers. Through it all he scarcely emptied a mug, and while'st the revels were reduced mostly to staggering and slurring, the four speaking together thither remained upright and sober, alone amongst those within the hall.

"I hath passed 17 cycles of the seasons, and the good captain twenty-three," Brekka said, "yet lore tells that Elves live forever…"

"Elves may be slain in battle," Beinvír told her seriously, "and they may pass from grief. Yet the passage of time wears upon them but slowly, and of disease they hath no worries. I am now 4,411,while'st Helluin is 8,959 years of the sun in age."

For many long moments neither mortal spoke, but rather stood silenced by awe. Such spans were incomprehensible to them. Though they knew it not, the whole race of Men counted their time at 5,059 years since the first of their fathers had awakened in Hildorien with the coming of the sun. A few centuries only populated the lore of these riders, ere their memory was't eclipsed by the Shadow and the darkness of their ignorance.

"'Tis beyond me…such spans of time," Ërlick said at last, "and indeed it makes me feel small. All the days of my life shalt pass like one breath only to thee…indeed all the days of my king and my people…"

"Many kingdoms I hath seen rise and fall," Helluin agreed, "of Men and Elves and Dwarves. Yet one thread passes from Age to Age, and that is the struggle 'twixt good and evil. In every land it hath birthed the lore of times past and lays the path of time to come, for it guides the deeds of those who live through those times. So 'tis the part of each to do 'aught as they can to better the days they see, to provide for those who come after, and to cherish the good deeds done aforetime that they not be forgotten and their lessons needs be learnt again. 'Tis the same for all good folk upon these Mortal Shores. 'Twas even so upon the Deathless Shores far 'cross the Sea."

Beside her, the Green Elf solemnly nodded her head in agreement.

Helluin's earnest words kindled a fire in the eyes of the captain and the maiden, as if for the first time they knew for what they strove; as if for the first time they had a reason beyond self-defense or vengeance to oppose those who would slay or enslave them. 'Twas the light of inspiration, the realization of a higher calling…and though perhaps not unknown aforetime, for honor was't not wholly foreign to them, 'twas still rare to hear such words spoken aloud and sincere. They marked that in these most ancient of folk the most basic values were embraced, clear and uncomplicated, as the guiding principals of life. About them the drunken revels seemed now a shallow and cynical departure from a purer and better life's purpose. In Helluin's words they found a reflected glimmer of that same hope which had once driven the Eldar into the West, following the promise of something higher and fairer, and more noble than 'aught that they had known aforetime. Somewhere within their hearts, unconscious and unspoken, the captain and the girl were both moved to cleave to that same purpose. 'Twas a lesson neither would forget 'til the failing of their life's breath.

Now thereafter the two ellith long remained in the land of the riders, and they built for themselves a homestead some seven leagues from the king's city, 'nigh the settlement which Captain Ërlick called home. 'Twas little more than a cabin much like those built west of the Greenwood by the descendants of Berlun, save that they kept no livestock nor tended any hives. About it ran a thick hedge enclosing a small meadow of wildflowers. They had chosen the site because it hosted a spring in a shallow hollow just downslope from their house, which sat upon a hillock of whispering grass 'neath the only two trees for miles around. 'Twas a concession to their mission they made, for Beinvír was't still loath to be tied to any one place, and Helluin too, though both acknowledged the desire for winter shelter and to be available to their neighbors at need.

Now the settlement was't one of several, and it lay some two furlongs to the west, 'nigh a running brook and astride a well traveled track leading to King Lüdhgavia's city. Thither, aside from some craftsmen, the people mostly bred horses and sheep, though a few farmed poorly and some others mainly hunted for their livelihood. The area as a whole was't rolling grasslands, prime country for raising herds of the steeds beloved by the riders, and so the breeders were esteemed by the city folk and the soldiers.

Much traffic moved 'twixt the city and the outlying villages, and these were regularly patrolled by the companies of the king's riders as they went about the land, safeguarding their borders from the occasional marauding bands of Yrch or evil Men.

Now in that land there dwelt too many wild horses, the ancestral sires and dams of the herds so loved by the riders. These were fine animals, sleek of coat, strong and fleet of foot, and wise in the ways of their lands. 'Twas told amongst the peoples 'twixt Celduin and Carnen that these were, at least in part, descended from steeds once brought to Mortal Lands by the Gods.

Of this the Elves had their own opinions, for though Orome and his host had oft ridden in the wide and untamed lands of Middle Earth during the Age of the Stars, all who came thither returned to Valinor. In those days Orome had ridden his stallion, Nahar, hunting down the dark monsters of Morgoth, but oft were things other than they seemed. All mortal horses had come at the first of some equine stock upon Arda, perhaps back in the days when the Valar had dwelt thither ere the Fall of the Lamps, while'st Nahar and his kindred of Aman died not and spoke at whiles when it pleased them to do so. These things Helluin knew from her many meetings with the noble steed during her years in Aman. And one thing more she knew well from this; Nahar was no _horse_! Near as Helluin could reckon, he had been well o'er 30,000 years of the Sun in age at the time of her own birth. Indeed he might hath come to Arda with the Valar, the Maiar, Manwë's Eagles, Melkor's Balrogs, and all the rest. Such was't not the life story of 'aught but an immortal spirit in Orome's service, _sheathed by its will in the form of a horse_. And yet who was't to say whether or not, upon some long forgotten hunt in the Age of the Stars, he had or had not sewed some wild oats of his own in the Mortal Lands.

Whatever their pedigree, the wild horses were fine beasts and even Helluin and Beinvír thought them majestic. The Men called them _Maeras_,and though mortal, thought them magical; to be admired for their own virtues, their bloodlines treasured when mingled with their herds, but never to be tamed or ridden by mortals...nay, not even by kings.

For the most part the wild ones roamed the grasslands at their leisure, keeping away from the settlements of Men, but from time to time one would deign to join a domestic herd for a while, usually during the mating season when the stallions would vie for access to the mares. The appearance of wild horses was't regarded by the Men as a gift from their ancestors and the influx of fresh blood was't welcomed for to enrich the lines of their steeds. So 'twas that in late Lothron, (May), of TA 1003, that the two ellith first made the acquaintance of the _Maeras_.

Now it came to pass that in the late spring the two ellith took to the fields, roaming and wandering as they were wont to do after the heaviest of the spring rains abated. So 'twas that upon that time they were many miles from their home, out east and but a few leagues from the banks of the River Carnen. The weather was't warm and pleasant, for the full heats of summer were yet to come, and the waving grass was't green and growing tall.

"'Tis nice to be in new lands, _meldanya_, and I find these fair," Beinvír said as she traipsed in an exaggerated fashion, well 'nigh skipping with arms outstretched to swish amongst the tall stems of grass. "I feel Anor close and Manwë's gentle breath in the sweet breeze. Doth the scent of this land not seem sweet?"

"Indeed, _meldis nín,_ 'tis just so," Helluin agreed with a smile as she watched her lover capering, so obviously joyful, "a fine day in a fine land."

She herself was't happy; happy to roam freely in unfamiliar surroundings that were pleasing to the senses. She was't especially happy to be free of the ever present stenches and crowding of the Mannish settlements. Indeed the dark warrior felt somehow more Elvish, as if her present state satisfied more fully her sense of identity; a free wandering adventurer…an explorer of the Host of Finwe. From what she could see, 'twas as if the later Second and Third Ages might n'er hath been.

_How may centuries hath passed_, she wondered,_ since last I actually explored a new land in peace, with 'naught for a mission? And how long since I did so in such wonderful company?_ And after a pause, she answered herself._ It hast been long indeed._

She allowed a broad smile to grace her features as she looked east, out 'cross the leagues of grass to a far line of trees that marked Carnen's banks, and thence, sweeping her gaze north, through league upon league of clear air, so far that even that clarity gave way to a subtle haze, where stood the hint of the _Emyn Angren, _the Iron Hills.

Beinvír twirled about like a dervish, finally coming to face her partner. Thither she froze in silence, a look of awe upon her face. 'Twas some moments ere Helluin noticed her stillness, and then she looked thither. She cocked a brow in question.

"I can recall not when I hath seen thee so," the Green Elf whispered with eyes still wide, "so fair and so content. Behind thee stands bright Anor, casting a golden glow about thee to rival thine own inner Light, and upon thy face a smile to warm the hearts of even Morgoth's thralls…and the Light of thy eyes, it fairly makes me swoon. Aye, in thy eyes I see thy love for this world and for thy place in it…'aught that I hath seen for long given to 'naught but myself. I know what great fortune the world feels in this moment, for I hath long reveled in that feeling myself. Thou art beautiful, _meldis meldwain nín_, beautiful beyond the measure those who dwell upon these Mortal Shores. Would that thou could more oft show this side of thyself, Helluin."

Her lover's words brought a blush to Helluin's face and a giggle to Beinvír's.

"Thou rewards me with treasure upon treasure this day, _anamelda_," the Green Elf teased.

"And 'naught of it can'st thou bequeath or spend, but rather only hoard in the treasury of thy heart," Helluin replied in an attempt to recover her composure.

"Thus I account myself richer than a king of the Naugrim enthroned upon a mountain of gold," Beinvír said, and then holding up her left hand, added, "I hath even a Ring that I value above any in all their kingdoms."

Thither upon the third finger of her hand shone the Ring of _mithril_ and gold, carved by the wrights of the House of Ishkabibúl of Khazad-dûm into the forms of the Blessed Trees of Aman, their joined canopies blazing with Anor's rays, refracted through the adamant gems of Hithaeglir, the love-gift of Helluin's promise, given in the cavern of Henneth Annûn o'er a thousand years aforetime.

At the sight of that symbol Helluin stepped forward, without thought or intention, drawn thus by her feelings, and Beinvír did likewise 'til their arms entwined. Eyes slipped closed to revel in fair memories and the feeling of each others' bodies clasped so near their own. Then, as the feelings of their love built, came again that melding of their _fëar_ which surpasses any intimacy amongst the mortal Children of Ilúvatar, that blending of souls so rare even amongst the Elder Children of the One. Upon the plain 'nigh Carnen did a golden Light flare, as of a star come hence to ground in the bright, full light of day. Thither, for moments that seemed to stretch out for an Age, two became one and the grass steamed and withered and threatened to burst into flame. Together they rose upon the wings of their love, the Light building, the blending complete, until at last 'twas as if they had ceased to be, yet never could they hath been more complete. The Light flared, so intense as to eclipse Anor's radiance, and then it gradually faded, leaving the two ellith gasping and struggling to recover their breath. And even in this, they supported each other until their hearts calmed.

Now 'twas in fine mood and great contentment that the pair traveled north. A closer look at the distant Iron Hills did they desire, for curiosity and exploration ruled their hearts for that time. So they made their way thither, passing 'nigh the banks of Carnen for some fifty leagues, and so coming in late Lothron to the last bend north. Thither the river turned for its final thirty leagues ere entering the hills, and thither, upon the 26th day of that month, did the two ellith find adventure.

Now that day dawned bright and clear as had so many aforetime on their journey, and they broke their fasts and took up the trail in good spirits. 'Twas 'nigh noon when they felt the helpless rage and sadness of one before them, and hearing no sounds of battle to accompany it, made their way forward intending to render whatsoever aid they could.

They made their way some half-furlong east from their trail, the feelings growing ever stronger with each step, 'til they were greeted with soft snorts and the sounds of one nervously pacing, and louder still, the labored breathing of another in pain. Now they hastened forth, thinking the quicker to be of service, and so they came upon a clearing wherein the grass was't trampled flat, and whereat waited a maddened horse standing sentry o'er another fallen upon the ground.

Immediately the guardian reared and pawed the air, and he whinnied a warning that the Elves understood.

_Halt and come no closer! Thou hast been warned. Return upon thy way or I shalt surely be thy bane. _The stallion's eyes fairly blazed with protectiveness.

The two ellith came immediately to a halt, Helluin standing before her partner, but they drew no weapons for both saw that the fallen was't indeed a mare, and that she was't heavy and full in her labor…a labor that had obviously gone awry. They marked now the pain and fright in her eyes, her fast and shallow breathing, and the sheen of perspiration upon her sides. Indeed the mare's strength was't ebbing from the struggle; she was't losing her life while'st trying to give life.

"We mean no harm to thee or thy mate," Beinvír said in a soothing tone of voice as she stepped 'round Helluin's side.

She spoke the same words silently as well while'st looking the stallion in the eyes. It seemed to give him pause, for he settled from his rearing, but he still breathed heavily and pawed the ground.

"She speaks the truth," Helluin added, "no ill do we bring to thee, but rather felt thy pain and anguish from afar and came hither with offer of aid."

The horse snorted in disbelief and asked, _What aid can you fair ones bring to such as we? We art not Elves, and such Elves as we know ride seldom and know little of value to us. Indeed our greatest thanks to thy people is for thy teaching of speech, and that a gift now so old that we count it less than the estrangement 'twixt our kindreds that hath come to be._

"There may be truth in thy words," Beinvír answered, "and t'would hold for our folk of these eastern lands, yet Helluin hails from 'cross the Sea, and great store of lore and knowledge hast she from the Blessed West."

At this the stallion quieted somewhat and stood carefully looking at the Noldo for what seemed a long time. His attention finally shifted at a wheezing gasp from the mare. She had turned her attention to the Elves and her terrified eyes begged a single word; _Please!_ When the stallion looked back at the two ellith his eyes were softened with a glimmer of hope.

_For any favor thou may gift to my mate I would hold myself forever in thy debt. This birth shalt be the death of her and bring the breaking of my heart. The loss of the foal shalt end my line which hast come down even from the Days of the Stars. I beg thy pardon. I knew not that any from the West still lingered upon these Hither Shores._

"Few enough of us there are indeed," agreed Helluin as she moved carefully forward, "and none others save myself art known to me east of the Misty Mountains."

She reached the mare and knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand upon her brow and concentrating for several moments. Then she leant low and softly sang in the Quenya tongue, some sweet verses in the mare's ear. The mare seemed to calm and breath more easily, and a bit of the wild fear left her eyes. When Helluin looked up to the stallion she said, "I shalt do 'aught as I can, and I believe I may save at least one or the other, mother or child…perhaps both."

'Twas the confidence in her eyes that finally set the stallion at ease for the first time and he ceased his pawing and stood quietly by, looking down as Helluin worked.

Now Helluin had Beinvír kindle a small fire in a trench, and o'er it she heated water with herbs to make an infusion. This the Noldo laved the mare with, brow and belly, and her sweating ceased. For hours Helluin labored in her healing, putting forth her power and singing softly while'st awaiting the proper time. The hours passed and Anor lowered in the west. The stallion stood by in silence, barely breathing, and clinging to his newfound hope. Helluin's power strengthened the mare's body while'st the songs strengthened her heart. But 'twas finally by manual ministrations that the dark warrior succeeded in turning the unborn colt while'st still within its mother's womb, so that in the early evening he made his way forth into the world without tearing his dam or strangling himself. Then as the first stars winked to life in the heavens and Eärendil rose o'er Arda's rim, the new colt staggered to his feet, took a shaky step, and promptly collapsed again beside his mother, nuzzling her and searching for her teat. Helluin and Beinvír gave sighs of relief and contentment.

_Skilled art thou, Helluin of the Host of Finwe, _the stallion said, dipping his proud head to her, _and great is my thanks. 'Aught that I might offer is yours for the asking._

Helluin nodded in understanding and she gave a considered pause ere answering, for though she deemed there to be little she would want of a horse, she sought not to name her reward too quick lest she seem to value it not. In that time she looked o'er the two horses carefully yet again. While'st the mare was't golden, with a pale mane and tail, (a coloration called in later days _palomino_), the stallion's coat was't of a hue that seemed to shimmer like quicksilver. 'Twas in truth neither white nor grey, but rather 'twas a coat that Helluin knew would seem dark in shadows and light in sunlight; a turncoat hide familiar to her from Aman and the herds of Valinor, but seldom seen in Mortal Lands. Having known many a horse, (and indeed many spirits who wore the forms of horses), she nodded to herself, knowing what boon she would ask.

"Noble ones, I ride not save at the greatest need, and that hast not been in the lifetimes of thee or thy sires. Water and food and shelter we can find well enough for ourselves such that to this land's bounties we hath no need of guidance. One thing only can I mark that I would hath of thee, for we hath forged hither a tie of life."

The two horses looked at her with their full attention.

"Declare to me thy right names," Helluin asked.

To this request, the mare whickered and the stallion snorted.

_Shrewd thou art, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel,_ the stallion said, _yet I grudge thee not thy fee. I am called D__ágeleb_**¹**_ in the Sindarin tongue._

**¹**(**D****ágeleb**_**, Silver Shadow dae**_(shadow) + _**celeb**_(silver) Sindarin)

_And I am called __Celegield_**¹**, said the mare. She looked then to her newborn, and after exchanging glances with her mate that spoke of agreement, she told Helluin, _Our son we shall now call __Aduia_**², **_for by thy grace he came to us with the of first stars._

**¹**(**Celegield, **_**Swift Daughter celeg**_(swift) + _**ield **_daughter) Sindarin) **²**(A_**duial**_(evening twilight) Sindarin)

After detecting a sentimental sniffle from the Green Elf, Helluin bowed her head a moment at the honor. 'Twas full dark now.

"Half a furlong north we hath seen a spring," Beinvír said, "and thither shalt we camp this night…far enough to give thee thy peace, yet close enough to bring aid at need in this most vulnerable time."

"Aye," Helluin agreed, "for though this land seems all at peace, still none knows what the darkness shalt bring."

To this the stallion nodded in agreement with their prudence, and 'twas with honor that they parted for a time.

Now Helluin and Beinvír quickly retraced their steps and found the spring, and thither they made their camp. A supper they cooked of simple stew based on dried meat that they took from their trail rations.

"I am glad thou thought to give us good reason to take our leave of them, _meldanya," _Helluin said, while'st hungrily inhaling the scent of the stew.

"Aside from giving them their privacy, I marked that we hath 'naught left of our stores save this horse jerky," the Green Elf replied, "and t'would hath been poorly received, I deem."

"I agree," the Noldo said, "for even while'st in Aman I found little enough of humor in horses."

**To Be Continued**

* * *

Special thanks to my reviewers, _Elven-Cat2 _and _Valindil._ My apologies for the long wait for this posting to you and to all the other readers. I've been crazy busy in r/l,,,including attending the Xena Convention in Secausuc NJ, June 1-3!!!! Please stay tuned for the next installment... 


	103. In An Age Before Chapter 103

**In An Age Before – Part 103**

**Chapter Sixty-five**

_**East of Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now for two more days Helluin and Beinvír continued upon their way towards the Emyn Angren. They had seen 'naught of the _Maeras_ after leaving them, but wished them well. Ahead of them the dark line of highlands grew, gaining clarity of detail as the leagues passed underfoot. Low they seemed when compared to the White Mountains of the south or the Misty Mountains to the west. No snowcaps crowned their heights. Rounded too they were, weathered by Ages of winter freeze and spring thaw. As the Elves passed north, the wide grasslands of the Riders' homeland had become interspersed with stands of trees, and these became more numerous now, pine and birch and maple, rather than the willows and live oaks and poplars of more moderate climes. Indeed these lands were subject to harsh winters in some years and the heats of summer were diminished, for the Ered Mithrin had failed this far east, and blocked not so fully the chill fingers creeping south from the northern wastes.

The Elves had noted this on some level, knowing that on previous journeys more to the south, this time of year would hath subjected them to thirst and discomfort such that cloaks were bothersome and campfires unnecessary save for cooking. Now instead, the evenings took on a slight chill while'st the days were comfortable, even while'st walking at a good pace with their travel bags and arms. Though they were some thirty leagues south of the path they'd walked 'round the north of the Greenwood upon their way to the lands of the Riders, still the air was't cooler even though 'twas early summer now and had been early autumn then.

Now upon their second nightfall after meeting Dágeleb and Celegield, the two ellith were sitting upon their bedrolls sipping tea. A hunters' fire of red embers burned in a shallow trench, showing no flames and casting no shadows, and giving off well 'nigh no smoke. All seemed well, yet through the day a sense of disquiet had grown upon them; an unsettled air had drawn their attention, carried upon the breeze-blown whispers of rustling leaves and grass. Too, they had marked a subtle trembling in the earth, as of many feet walking heavily, though still at some fair distance off. These things they had spoken of to each other, mostly in silent, traded glances, leading to the conclusion that upon the morrow, perhaps in the evening, they would find themselves 'nigh an unknown company.

_Not Elves, _Beinvír had said with certainty while'st looking Helluin in the eyes, _for they tread without regard for the earth_…_indeed almost in_ _contempt of it._

_Aye, a good observation, meldanya, _Helluin agreed, _this tread speaks of un-concern, unlike the ignorance in which most Men walk. Indeed 'tis not wholly unfamiliar, these footfalls. We hath heard their like upon a time and more than once._

_In the Hithaeglir most oft, I reckon, _the Green Elf declared.

_Aye, and so I am ill at ease for what we hath heard tell._

_The king told us 'aught long ago. The morrow shalt tell us more, meldis nín, but for now 'tis to my rest I shalt go, saving the morrow's worries for the morrow._

_Thou art wise as ever, melethril_**¹, **Helluin replied with a smile ere she lay back upon her ground cloth of tanned fish skins to look at the sky. Whatsoever the coming day should bring, the stars cared not upon this night. **¹**(**melethril, **_**a (f.) lover**_ Sindarin)

Beside her the Green Elf lay back as well, and reaching out, clasped Helluin's hand in her own, the ghost of a smile shaping her lips as she felt her grip returned. Thus content she counted the stars, seeking for the blue flame that blazed from the heart of Ráca, "The Wolf", (_Canis Major_). 'Twas her beloved's namesake that later Men would call _Sirius_**¹. ****¹**(_**Sirius**_ is the brightest star observable from earth, and it is a binary star. Comprised of Sirius _A,_ blue-white and with a mass about double our sun, and Sirius _B_, a white dwarf with a mass equivalent to the sun, but crushed into a volume equal to the earth, the two revolve around each other every 50 years).

In the hours of darkness, Helluin reviewed what she had heard in the year 3410 of the Second Age. It left her with no certainties but many suspicions.

"_Dark art thy words, O Helluin, and dire art thy warnings…And even more unsettled am I now concerning other tidings I hath heard. Know thou that there art other kindreds of our folk, ruled by the lords of other houses? One such house lies to the north in the Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains. That folk art not allies of ours, but yet neither art they our enemies."_

"Could some of that house hath made their way east, from the Ered Mithrin to the Emyn Angren? Such as they seek ever after ores and gems and t'would be little stretch that such could be found thither," Helluin whispered to herself so softly that none save she who lay 'nigh could hath marked her words.

A soft sigh answered her.

"Thou art brooding, my love, and little rest thou shalt hath of it," Beinvír admonished.

"I am sorry, beloved," the Noldo replied with some chagrin, "I knew not that I had spoken aloud."

"Bah," said the Green Elf. "'Tis only the last that hath given voice to the upset that hath ruled thee for many hours. I feel it like the tingling in a limb fallen asleep. Pray abandon thy bid to know the future, for t'will come hither whether thou know it aforetime or not."

To this the dark warrior chuckled. Her soulmate was't indeed wise. Beyond her own attempts to attain knowledge of the future from her memories, wisdom dictated accepting the limits that her knowledge implied. Indeed all that came to pass had once been sung at Ilúvatar's feet by the Valar themselves ere Arda came to be. Understanding this, she lapsed into a memory of her enduring friendship with an oft reborn king.

Now upon the morrow the twain set out again upon their path north. The hours passed pleasantly enough, for the day was't fine, and yet 'neath all lay the apprehension of a meeting with a company of suspicious nature. Somewhat more than a furlong to the east a pair of wild asses trotted past, heading in the opposite direction and giving them wary looks.

"Hath thou marked the presence of game, my love?" The Green Elf asked upon seeing them. She had stopped and watched the animals, noting their nervous demeanor.

"Indeed I hath and more numerous than aforetime," Helluin answered grimly. "I wager 'tis not our luck as hunters that stands indulged by the Valar this day, for all I hath seen art heading south."

Beinvír nodded in agreement. She had long since ceased searching for the smoke of a brush fire driving hence the game, and the season was't wrong for southerly migrations. The cause no doubt was't living.

"They flee some others," she said gravely, "that we alone march to meet."

Helluin nodded but said 'naught. The faint tremors in the ground were coming more clearly to her with each passing hour. Again they continued. More hours passed. Yet as afternoon failed and evening drew 'nigh the rhythmic beating ceased, to be replaced by a muddled tremor as of many wandering close together without purpose.

'Twas the last hour ere sunset when the two ellith topped a low rise and finally spied the source of the footfalls. Encamped ahead of them for the night 'cross two furlongs of flat land was't an army of Dwarves. Helluin and Beinvír settled into grass to watch.

Now many were the campfires and many were the tents set thither. Pennants bearing a device of a crossed mallet and sickle upon a field of crimson fluttered from the tops of their center poles. The tents were set in small circles of six, arranged in three concentric rings about a group of three larger tents. Beyond the outermost ring, watch fires had been set and sentries paced amongst them.

'Twas a good site, Helluin thought, devoid of all but a few stands of scraggly trees that could provide approaching enemies with cover, and 'nigh one of the many small streams that laced the area. She marked the movements of soldiers beyond the watch fires, gathering the scarce deadfall to add to the piles already accumulated, while'st others filled water skins at the stream banks. Faintly on the scant breeze, the scent of roasted meat and baking bread drifted from a mess tent to her nostrils.

"I make their count 'nigh three and one half thousands," Beinvír whispered beside her.

"Aye," the dark warrior agreed, and then more softly she added, "I wonder why they art hither?"

"That, I deem, we must discover," the Green Elf replied.

Now the night passed in silence and the stars marched o'erhead as the hours came and went. In the camp the army slept, following their mess. Of revels there were none, for 'twas a cheerless host, its bearing somber. Whatsoever end these Dwarves marched to, 'twas no celebration or festival. All signs pointed to a force moving to war with morale grim rather than gay. Regular as clockwork did the sentries make their rounds, all in the ordered fashion of Dwarvish armies. Having learnt their timing, Helluin and Beinvír moved in the third hour past midnight.

Now swiftly 'twixt the pacing sentries they slipped, stealthier than a soft breeze and just as invisible to the eye. None marked them. Through the perimeter they came, finding their way amidst the tents, the snoring of the soldiers far louder than their footfalls. Not so much as a shadow fell upon a stretched canvas to tell a tale of their passing, and with the craft of the Laiquendi, they breached a tent in the innermost circle.

Now that tent held six officers, captains in charge of companies of warriors numbering a hundred, and one chosen at random jerked awake to the pinprick of a dagger 'neath his chin. Thence his dreams of riches gave way to terror. Filling his vision was't a living fire, blue, and flickering from a pair of eyes that captured his spirit and paralyzed his limbs. He remained motionless while'st thoughts and questions came into his mind. When he thought to resist, 'twas as if the will that held him in thrall tightened like a bench vise 'round his skull for to crush his very brain.

_Speak to me in silence mind to mind, I command thee,_ a steely voice demanded in his head. It stooped not to naming any threat, and yet dire threat there was't upon him. All he could imagine was't that staying him hither for questioning stood one of their new o'erlord's unnatural agents…one of his fell and rumored Nine perhaps.

When he made to nod in agreement the vise tightened again so that he held still as stone, setting forth his capitulation in thought only. The vise relaxed a pace, allowing him to breath.

_Whence came thee?_

_From the Bergûl Ayzn_**¹**_,_ he answered. ¹(**Bergûl Ayzn, **Khuzdul,_**Iron**__**Hills, **_the _**Emyn Angren**_ in Sindarin)

_Whither go'st thou and thy company? _The stern voice asked.

_I know not the place, _he began. Instantly the vise tightened and he would hath closed his eyes and shrieked in pain had he not been so constrained by the other's will. Not even a whimper of anguish could he make. About him his five tent mates slept on undisturbed. Desperate to relieve his suffering he cried out silently,_ We march east and south, to offer our service to the God of Fire!_

The vise loosened somewhat and he would hath gasped in relief had he been able.

_Why go'st thou to serve this god?_

_Our service was't demanded of our king, for an inspiration came to him, reasoning that 'tis fire that feeds the forge and 'tis therefore its god that stands most worthy of our worship. _More hesitantly he added, _many amongst us disagree, reverencing only Mahal._

One further answer was't demanded of him.

_Whence came this…inspiration?_

'_Tis said from the Voice in his Ring._

The blue fire was't extinguished in an instant and all that he recalled ceased at that point 'till alarms woke him from a troubled sleep whose length he knew not. Of his dreams that night he spoke 'naught, for their march was't secret, the Ring was't secret, and his treason would hath cost him his head.

"Damn it, they march thither to join the armies of Sauron," Helluin carped after they had left the camp behind and retreated o'er the rise they had first seen the army from. "God of Fire, indeed, accursed pretender."

"And 't'would seem their king holds one of the tainted Seven of Celebrimbor," Beinvír added, "and the Dark Lord whispers through it to corrupt his heart."

"Aye." Helluin agreed, "and with the same liar's tongue as ever he had aforetime."

"Well, some mischief's sure to come of this, I wager," the Green Elf sighed.

"And we hath not the numbers to stop them!" Helluin groused, shaking her head in disgust. "Nay, even were I to slay this king in battle this very night, t'would only be to see another take his place…and deliver his folk into thralldom."

To this Beinvír sadly nodded in agreement. T'would be the second house of the Dwarves that they knew who had fallen into the Dark Lord's service.

Even more bitterly Helluin added, "Mark my words, t'will be the Dúnedain of the South who shalt one day face weapons forged by those we hath seen yonder this night."

She proceeded thence to brooding, sitting silently 'neath a shrub just o'er the rise from the Dwarf camp. Beinvír sat watching her, wondering what bizarre plot she would hatch. The Green Elf then regarded the sky. From the positions of the stars she reckoned but an hour of darkness remained. Finally with a sigh she drew a scrap of horse jerky from her travel bag and slowly began to gnaw it for the sake of having 'aught to do.

'Twas some half hour later that Helluin blinked and her head popped up. She took a deep breath and then checked the sky, deeming that enough time yet remained…barely enough.

"Helluin…" the Green Elf began, hoping they were to leave ere the dawn.

"Stay hither, beloved, and await my return," the dark Noldo calmly whispered, "I shan't be long."

And with that she rapidly crept back o'er the rise and down towards the encampment ere Beinvír could say 'aught in reply.

The Green Elf groaned, but decided to wait as asked. She crept forward 'til 'naught but her eyes topped the rise, and thither she watched her lover's progress with growing suspicions and a sinking feeling. By the time she was't certain, 'twas too late to amend her decision and try to follow Helluin. And so she watched as the single dark figure passed the sentries, slipped silently through the circles of the tents, and came at last to the three in the center. She saw Helluin enter the one from which the largest pennant flew, and then she held her breath for moments that felt as long as an Age. Finally she breathed a sigh of relief when her lover reappeared. Being honest with herself, the Green Elf reckoned that Helluin had been out of sight no more than a minute. She continued to nervously watch until Helluin returned back over the rise.

"Couldn't resist making a courtesy call?" Beinvír whispered. "Hath thou satisfied thyself by seeing this king?"

"Aye, I hath seen this king, though if I hath done them a courtesy then 'tis a twisted one, I wager," the Noldo whispered back. From a pouch at her waist she withdrew an object and displayed it on her open palm.

"Gaaah!" Beinvír recoiled from the sight of it and couldn't help but choke.

Helluin chuckled.

"Rather than merely slay this king and know another would take his place and his Ring, I confiscated the accursed Ring myself."

Beinvír looked upon the heavy circlet of gold with its cold gem, sitting like a scorpion on her lover's palm, and she shuddered. The thing had once rested in the hand of the Enemy and still fairly reeked of his malice. She cast a questioning glance to Helluin and received a grim nod of confirmation.

"I took the Ring and neglected not to slay the king as well, for having once embraced Sauron's will, I deemed his spirit lost. Ever would lust of it hath ruled his spirit and the memory t'would hath haunted him in waking and dreaming. Indeed I hath become a thief an assassin and a liberator in one night."

"And why am I not surprised?" Beinvír muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Come, let us away ere the deed's discovered," the Noldo said more urgently.

As if to prove her point, at that moment from the camp came shouting and wailing and cursing, and then a quickly rising tumult as the Dwarf army was't rousted by the alarm.

"T'will be little time ere they deem the killer gone from their camp," Helluin said as she stood and offered her beloved a hand.

Beinvír let Helluin pull her to her feet.

"And whither shalt we flee?"

"To the west, of course," Helluin replied, calmly starting off in that direction.

Shaking her head, the Green Elf moved to follow.

"And so what shalt thou do with the Ring, Helluin?" She nervously asked shortly later. The sun was't rising behind them now, sending their own long shadows before their feet. In the further distance a cloud of dust was't rising as the army trampled all 'round the camp site in their search for the killer of their lord.

"In fact I am not sure," Helluin finally admitted after some moments of silence, "for those best suited to advise me art also those most at risk."

"In other words, we turn not our steps towards Khazad-dûm."

"Aye. I dare not bring such poison thither, and to Imladris as well we can'st not go."

Now though the Dwarves searched far and wide, the stealth and the head start of the two ellith stood them in good stead and they made their escape cleanly. Westward they marched at a good pace. After a week they stood 'nigh the east bank of Celduin, some seven leagues south of the long lake. Thither the water flowed both deep and wide even in summer, and with such strength of current as to make fording it afoot hazardous. 'Twas not the place to seek a crossing. For that they would needs make either a journey of unknown miles south to find a ford, or a full day's march north to the southern shore of the lake, whereat a settlement of Men maintained some boats.

"Think thou that thy action dissuaded the army from marching to Sauron's service?" Beinvír asked as she stood beside Helluin, staring out 'cross the water. She had marked that a persistent and somber mood had gripped the warrior, and now she sought to break its hold. "I recall thou said the soldier thou queried claimed many were still true to Mahal."

"Whether yea or nay, I know not," Helluin answered, "and while many might hath disliked their course, I believe many more would hath followed their lord's will. I also believe that the murder of their lord and the theft of his Ring hath joined them all together in the cause of vengeance. _For so 'twas with my people when Finwë was't slain and the Silmarils taken in Aman long ago._ I know for certain only that they no longer bear an evil beyond their ken."

"Aye, that much 'tis true," Beinvír agreed, and after a pause she added, "and I should reckon it a great victory to deny to the Dark Lord an entire army with but one death."

"And I should deem it a greater deed to deny to Sauron the thralldom of a whole people, even at the cost of the murder of their king."

"Thou feel still some guilt for thy deed," Beinvír commented, looking the Noldo in the eyes. 'Twas not a question, for she knew her lover well. "'Tis needless, Helluin. Indeed thy action hast brought the greatest good with the least loss."

Helluin nodded, though her eyes testified that she was't only partially convinced.

"Not again could I make the mistake I made with Tindomul," Helluin replied. "I hath no doubt that 'twas right so far as any of the living can know, for none can foretell if this king's death truly changed the final course of his people. Yet to do 'naught would hath been to accept the destiny he had chosen for them all; a dark road through servitude to death. I hath less quarrel with that…I wonder only concerning that king's fate beyond this life and that I hath made it void forever."

Slowly the realization came upon the Green Elf. Helluin felt little guilt for the necessity of having slain the Dwarf king. 'Twas rather how she had accomplished it.

"I know the fathers of the Seven Houses of the Dwarves art destined to be reborn to their people. Four times hast Durin been Lord of Khazad-dûm. Think thou also that this king was't a father of his people?"

To this question, Helluin could only shrug. She had moved silently and struck while'st her victim still slept, for to wake him would hath been to wake the camp. For more subtle queries there had remained no time, and so no questions had she asked of him. She knew not his name. Indeed she knew not the names of any of the Fathers of the Dwarves save Durin only.

"If 'twas his fate to be born again, then I fear I hath taken it from him. His spirit shalt come never again to that house wherein Aulë gathers his children, for I clove his neck with the Sarchram."

Beinvír could only nod in understanding, and now too, she understood her lover's guilt. To take a life with that weapon condemned the slain one's _fëa_ to the Everlasting Void.

"Thou fear that for a good cause this day thou may hath done an unassuagable ill."

"Aye. To save that army from service to Sauron, I may hath doomed an entire house. Even if he left an heir, his folk hath lost more than a king. Bereft now of their founding lord, of his status and inspiration, they shalt likely dwindle. It may take a thousand years ere they falter at the last, lordless and impoverished, and perhaps finally reduced to the status of the _Noegyth Nibin_**¹**. And yet I could do 'aught else. This king wore upon his hand a Ring gifted to him by the Dark Lord…as did Tindomul of Umbar aforetime. Upon that day at Pelargir I failed, slaying him in body only with my sword and delivering to the Great Enemy a lord for his Nazgûl. I could chance not the like to happen again." **¹**(**Noegyth Nibin, **_**Petty Dwarves**_ Sindarin)

Together they stood silently beside the flowing waters of Celduin, each deep in her thoughts. A soft breeze blew. All 'round them things grew. O'erhead Anor gifted Middle Earth with warmth and light. In Aman, no doubt, Helluin's deed was't known. Finally Beinvír looked up at her beloved and spoke her peace.

"If there be 'aught of wisdom for those of us who dwell upon these Hither Shores," the Green Elf softly said, "then 'tis that all hast been foreseen by the One in the Song. With faith and hope we must endure, for from Ilúvatar 'naught is hid. Mayhaps that house shalt stand; mayhaps it shalt fall. Yet for better or for worse, Helluin, their fate was't decreed long ago and thy deed was't meant aforetime. Take comfort in that."

For long moments Helluin remained silent ere she spoke. At last she turned to look back at Beinvír and said, "Then comfort too must I take in knowing that I was't meant to become the guardian of this Ring…for a time."

But for the life of her, she couldn't yet fathom what an Elf would do with a Dwarf's Ring that bore in its heart some fraction of Sauron's malice, save destroy it…somehow.

For a while longer they stood thither upon the river bank, unmoving, staring out o'er the rushing waters. Yet finally they turned to each other to decide whither they would go. Beinvír eyed the sun, noting that 'twas starting its daily journey into the west. Afternoon was't passing and the light seemed lessoned. Unbidden, she shivered.

Helluin marked her lover's change of mood. Carefully she sensed their surroundings for danger, yet she felt 'naught lurking 'nigh. The breeze, still soft and warm, had begun a whispering, as of the gathered mumblings of many miles of grass stalks passing simple words 'twixt sleepy minds. 'Twas the faint rumor of some far away deed, whose ripples spread and weakened with the distance and the telling. The message was't faint, aye, but 'twas a message still. Helluin listened more closely.

_Prestas…prestas bo tilch limb_, it said, _e-nkelvar dregar_**¹**_. _**¹**(**Prestas…prestas bo tilch limb, **it said**, e-nkelvar dregar. **_**Trouble…trouble on many legs**_**, **it said,_**the kelvar flee**__._ = _**presto-**_(trouble) + _**-as**_(obj suff n. on v.) + _**bo**_(on) + _**tilch**_(feet, pl of _telch_) + _**limb**_(many), + _**e-nkelvar**_(_**en**_, def art, _the_)+ _**kelvar**_(_animals_) + _**dregar**_(3rd pers pl v, _**drego- + -ar, **__they_ _flee_). Sindarin)

To be continued

7


	104. In An Age Before Chapter 104

In An Age Before – Part 104

**Chapter Sixty-six**

_**Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

It took Helluin but moments to understand the whispers on the breeze. _Such dire tidings spread with so soft a voice_, she thought.

To avenge their murdered king the Dwarf army had marched seeking foes, and in the lands 'twixt Celduin and Carnen they would find none save the Men of the North. In their scattered townships and homesteads, the riders would be no match for even three and a half thousands at arms. And Dwarves were fearsome fighters; the more so when wronged.

_My actions hath again brought doom to my allies_, the Noldo thought, _just as they did to the Avari in Calenglad and the folk of Oropher in the Last Alliance. Am I ever fated to be the ruin of my friends?_

Seized by guilt and dark memories, Helluin turned from the river and let forth a piercing whistle. 'Twas so sharp and powerful a note that Beinvír cringed beside her by reflex. The warrior repeated that summons thrice ere she took to scanning the horizon with her sharp eyes.

"Pray explain, my love," the Green Elf asked, "for thou hast baffled me."

"I fear I hath wrought the destruction of those whom we were tasked to save," she answered, "for whomsoever else in this land shalt the Dwarves find to avenge themselves upon save King Lüdhgavia and the horsemen?"

A gasp caught in Beinvír's throat, for no others lived in the lands nearby save their friends, and she could appraise their chances in battle just as quickly as her beloved.

"Hast thou a plan to aid them?"

"Not much of a plan," the Noldo admitted with a sad shake of her head, "and what of one I hath depends upon swift passage and the raising of alarms. Cavalry may stand well against strong infantry, but t'will need sufficient numbers just the same."

The Green Elf nodded in understanding. Helluin repeated her whistled call.

It seemed to her that they waited forever, yet 'twas really no more than a quarter hour ere her sharp blue eyes marked movement upon the eastern horizon. Another quarter hour it took to resolve into a horse approaching at a gallop. Thither came Dágeleb, his coat rippling like quicksilver in the sunlight, his mane and tail spread by the wind of his passage like the pennants upon a tall ship. At a furlong he raised and shook his head and whinnied a greeting, and Helluin raised a hand in return. It seemed only moments ere he stood before them.

"_A boon I owe thee for thy aid,"_ he told them, _"and so I hath answered thy call."_

Helluin bowed her head to him.

"I hath great need of thy aid, my friend," she told him, "for the breeze whispers fell tidings to my ears."

"_I too hath heard 'aught of trouble in the east,"_ Dágeleb said, _"yet I understand it little."_

"And I fear I understand it all too well. I must raise the defenses of the Men living in this land ere they art swept aside by an army of Dwarves marching from the north. These I hath wronged, though with good reason. Now I fear they seek to avenge themselves upon our friends."

Dágeleb regarded her words with his full attention. He was't curious to know more ere he rode ignorant into a vendetta.

"_Howsoever hath thou come to wrong thither Dwarves? 'Aught that I know of them says they keep to themselves amidst the Emyn Angren, prospecting and seeking their fortunes as Dwarves art wont to do. Whyfor go they hence for vengeance?"_

Helluin sighed and drew forth the Ring. It lay cold upon her palm 'neath the clear blue sky, and the horse nickered and stamped nervously at the sight of it.

"'_Tis a fell token, I deem,"_ he said.

"An army we found marching south a week past," she told him gravely, "and thence through questioning learnt that they marched to worship a God of Fire in the east at the behest of their king's Ring. With its master's voice did it entreat him and bewitch him thus, to offer his peoples' allegiance to none other than the Dark Lord Sauron, to whom all such Rings answer. I stopped their march by slaying their king and taking his Ring."

To this the stallion rolled his eyes and snorted.

"_Into the fire thou hast thrust thy hand indeed,"_ he said, _"yet I too might hath taken thy course in thy place. The armies of the Fire God, as thou calls him, I hath seen at times, raiding to the east of these lands. Yrch and evil Men. Long hath they done ill thither. Very well. Let us raise an alarm."_

Helluin bowed her head again in thanks.

"Then by thy leave we shalt ride south and east."

The stallion nodded in agreement and suffered the Elves to mount. Lightly they sat upon his back, without tack or saddle, as Elves art wont to do when they ride at need. Then Dágeleb sprang away and his speed was't greater than any living steed. Leagues passed 'neath his hooves as Arien carried Anor westward, and Beinvír thought they might yet outrun their lengthening shadow. Twice only that day did they stop. Once at twilight to drink at a stream, and again at full dark for a quick meal. Then on they galloped into the night. For the Lord of the Maeras, finding footing by starlight and moonlight held no dangers, for even were he to misstep, his lightness afoot and his speed would hath carried him onward in safety.

Now, though no tales tell of their ride nor sing the praises of their mount, still, as dawn spread the hues of morning 'cross the land, well 'nigh fifty leagues had fallen behind them. So they came with Anor as their herald to the Great Mead Hall of Lüdhgavia, and Dágeleb shook his head and snorted at the reek. A few riders lay unconscious 'nigh the doorway, stinking of brew. A few dogs bared their teeth and growled in greeting.

"_Thy errand accomplished and thy goal at hand, I salute thee and wish thee good fortune,"_ the stallion told them, _"but for myself, I can'st not quit hither settlement fast enough. I shalt be going and quickly. Call me again if thy need is dire, O Helluin."_

"That I shalt do if the need is indeed great, my friend," the Noldo said, "and great thanks hath thou of me for thy aid this day. I blame thee not for seeking fresher air and freer pastures. 'Tis a torment to my senses as well and I abide it only with difficulty. Indeed I wonder if t'would not be a blessing should the Dwarves burn it to the ground."

Dágeleb rolled his eyes and whinnied in agreement. Then he turned and took his leave at a fast canter.

Helluin and Beinvír made their way to the door of the mead hall, and finding it unguarded and themselves unchallenged, kicked it open and called forth to those inside, "Arise! Arm thyselves! Defend thy homes! An enemy marches upon thee!"

They were met with the stench of stale mead, the snores of besotted Men, and the growling of dogs. Somewhere in the shadows towards the rear of the hall someone was't retching. Elsewhere came the sound of someone passing water and groaning in relief. Helluin shook her head. After riding through the night to raise the alarm, she felt like burning the hall herself.

_Think thou as do I that 'tis a scant service we do the world to preserve these wretches? _Helluin asked her lover in silence eye to eye. _Whatever value could Mithrandir foresee in these mortals? _

The Green Elf rolled her eyes for the same thought had come to her as well. Still she reverenced the Maia.

_Little enough of his wisdom hath we, I wager, _she said, _and the ways of the Wise art oft hidden, 'tis said. I should set aside his request only with trepidation, beloved. Perhaps if these riders rouse not to thy call?_

Helluin nodded and a grin shaped her lips.

_Uh-oh, _Beinvír thought, _that look I hath seen aforetime and know well enough._

With purposeful strides Helluin made her way to the hearth where lay a few coals preserved through the previous night by 'naught but dumb luck. One of these she quickly hooked with the toe of her boot and sent airborne into a pile of kindling in a trough that stood 'nigh. Seeing the first tendrils of smoke rising from it she gestured Beinvír to follow, and walked briskly from the hall and out into the morning air. 'Twas still foul, bearing the stench of the settlement, yet far cleaner than that within. Thither the two ellith stood before the doors, biding their time and counting it off silently in their heads.

They had but ten minutes to wait. The Green Elf had sniffed the air and detected the scent of smoke. Helluin believed she could see a faint haze spreading from the hole atop the thatched roof.

Suddenly the door was't thrown open wide and a disheveled Man burst from inside, staggering, eyes bloodshot, and hair a-tangle. He took two steps past the threshold, wobbled as if he would fall, then doubled up and vomited, heaving up the rancid contents of his revels ere he spat to clear his mouth. His wild eyes lit upon the Elves, and though they stood not two fathoms from him, he screamed at the top of his lungs, "FIRE!"

Helluin looked askance at him. Somehow he had managed to lose one boot and one arm from his tunic, the front of which bore impressive stains from mug and gullet. After looking him up and down she then turned and quickly surveyed the space before the hall, then returned her gaze to him and asked, "Fire say thou? Whither?"

Beside her, Beinvír cocked her head towards him in question.

The man stamped in half-intoxicated impatience and gestured wildly behind himself.

"Thither! The Great Hall is aflame!"

The two Elves looked past him at the structure seeing 'naught but the barest wisps of smoke wafting lazily from the door. They ignored it and looked thence to each other as if in disbelief.

"By the Gods, art thou blind?" The Man asked as he strove to keep his balance on unsteady legs.

Seeing no flames as yet, the Green Elf theatrically sniffed the air.

"I mark but the faint scent of smoke. Surely thy lord keeps kindled a fire in his hearth?" Beinvír asked him. "'Tis likely 'naught but the backwash from some hapless crow or squirrel plugging the chimney. Pray let it burn away."

The man stared at her. The hall had indeed burnt to the ground as oft as once a generation and he knew 'twas not the smell of roasting fowl.

"Lunatics," he sputtered as he staggered further from the doors. He passed them and took up a cry of, "Fire! The hall of our lord is afire!"

And when he had woven several more strides, he bellowed, "Wake! Fire! Wake!"

He stood screaming thus, unhindered and unheeded at first. Helluin and Beinvír stood watching and shaking their heads. It seemed that none cared, yet 'twas not entirely so.

His alarm was't eventually effective, for folk came from their homes to gawk at the disturbance. Some came closer and soon they stood pointing and gesturing, for by now, sure enough, visible smoke was't rising from the roof. And now finally some bedraggled Men staggered from the hall. Others came from different directions to congregate thither. A couple of braver or more curious Men actually sauntered inside. After what seemed a long interval these returned, gasping and coughing, but pressing before them Lüdhgavia and his knights and those few servants present.

Now the king was't still so inebriated that he came hence supported on both sides by vassals, and fell upon his face when they released him to stare back at the hall, for finally actual flames could be seen within and smoke was't roiling from the doorway. Shortly later, another group who had gone in after the first hastened forth bearing such treasures as they could save; a trove of weapons and armor, some tapestries and gilt cups, and a couple of wooden chests. These things they dumped unceremoniously beside their king.

For the better part of the next hour the throng watched the hall burn. None tried 'aught to stave off the flames. Rather they watched and gossiped and pointed. Some ate snacks and drank. Some told unrelated tales, their laughter seeming incongruous indeed. It could hath been a crowd gathered to watch a petty criminal pilloried in a town square. The Elves watched it all in silence. At last the roof caved in and the crowd began to disperse. By then, Lüdhgavia was't finally conscious, sitting unsteadily and watching the fire while'st shaking his head and mumbling. A few of his knights lay 'nigh, but they had resumed their slumbers, splayed senseless upon the ground.

_Incredible! _Helluin thought, shaking her head in amazement. _They hath just watched the centerpiece of their settlement burn to the ground, and all of them from their lord on down hath regarded it with no more interest than would a herd of cattle. Huh. And I had thought to rally them. What a farce. _

Beinvír, seemingly reading her mind, made her way to the now homeless king.

"My lord, be it far from joyous for me to bring thee tidings of danger upon the heels of disaster, yet 'tis just so," she said.

Lüdhgavia regarded her with a blank stare of his bleary eyes. 'Twas at first no recognition in them. Then he seemed to recall 'aught from some old tale, and after sweeping her from head to toe with his gaze, gave her his attention.

"Though the burning of thy hall is…unfortunate," she told him, "I wager it can be rebuilt grander than aforetime." To this the king gave a half-hearted nod ere she continued. "'Tis another danger of which we hath come to warn thee, O King."

To this, Lüdhgavia sat straighter upon the ground and his eyes flicked to Helluin who stood 'nigh.

"Aye," the dark warrior said, hedging, "'tis no less a danger than a fell army marching hither, seeking to avenge upon thy folk some wrong which hast befallen them."

"More Yrch, no doubt, damn their black blood," the king slurred.

"Nay, O King," said Helluin, "'tis rather an army of Naugrim," and at his expression of incomprehension, she clarified in the Common Tongue, "of Dwarves, King Lüdhgavia, come south from the Emyn Angren."

"We believe they seek not after thee in particular, for I wager they know thy people not," Beinvír told him, "and yet their ignorance shalt not be thy salvation."

The king sputtered and prepared to protest, but Helluin spoke first and silenced him.

"Like a sapling that stands before the flood, thy lands shalt be o'errun, thy people driven hence before the tide and thy homes put to the torch, for the wrath of the Naugrim burns hot," Helluin warned, "or so it hath always done in Ages past."

She looked him deeply in the eyes and held thither his consciousness with her will.

"Many tales could I tell thee of long years gone and bloody battles fought," she softly said, "Of the sack of Menegroth whither King Thingol of Doriath fell, and of the host of Belegost in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad o'er 4,800 years ago. They hath fought for their own gain and they hath fought as allies, yet now they seek to serve the Dark Lord himself. Now they art enemies, O King…thine and mine."

Now whether 'twas Helluin's words or the spell she had woven o'er him, Lüdhgavia had sobered noticeably. He stared from one elleth to the other, his lips set in a grim line.

"Thy enemies and mine, thou say," he said, "and though they be fell, 'twill not be upon this day that we shalt surrender our lands and homes to invaders." As he spoke he paid not a bit of attention to the smoldering remains of his own hall. "This land is ours and ours alone. 'Tis the land of our fathers and their longfathers aforetime, and we shalt fight for it. Tell me now, shalt thou fight beside us?"

"Aye, O King," Helluin answered.

"Aye," said the Green Elf, "beside thee we shalt fight."

And then a dark and eager voice spoke saying, "To battle at last. Ever I thirst. Pray anoint my blade again with the blood of thy enemies, O Helluin."

The king's eyes fairly started from his head in disbelief, but Helluin drew Anguirél from her scabbard and held the black sword up in the morning light.

"Hail, O Anguirél, to battle we go at last. Many shalt fall and may the count of the slain appease thee…for a time."

And the black blade seemed to glow in grim anticipation.

"For a time," it agreed.

But the Sarchram, which had sent hence the _fëa_ of the Dwarf King to the Void a week aforetime, remained silent at Helluin's waist.

Now though the rousing of the Men seemed to take much time indeed, yet 'twas truly only shortly after noon ere the first companies mounted their steeds and made ready to ride. Other companies would quickly make their way thither from the outlying settlements, for signal fires were kindled and the alarm was't passed from hamlet to hamlet with great speed. One company was't led by King Lüdhgavia himself and another by Captain Tröben, the very captain who had first brought the Elves to the city after they had saved him from the Yrch. Helluin and Beinvír had hoped to see Captain Ërlick, but 'twas reported that he was't gone afield. Others would give battle this day, for they were closer.

Northeast they rode, and after five leagues had fallen 'neath their hooves, Helluin dismounted and bent to the earth. The tremor she had first sensed lay still ahead and had changed not its course.

"Another twelve leagues hence, I wager, O King," the Noldo reported to Lüdhgavia, "and they march to meet us." _For they hath marched south with haste this past week while'st we walked west._

The king nodded from atop his dark stallion. 'Twas good to hath such scouts, he thought, wondering still howsoever Helluin could sense her enemies at such remove. He had come to realize that an army of her kindred would be well 'nigh impossible for mortals to approach in any numbers sufficient for an assault. He knew not the folly such an approach would entail, even were it to succeed.

Now after Helluin remounted, the king signaled the advance and the double file column of riders continued forward towards their enemies. To the fore rode a vanguard of archers and spearmen numbering one hundred strong and surrounding the king and Captain Tröben. Fifty counted themselves the bodyguard of each lord. Behind them followed another four hundred riders making up the two equal companies. If 'twas their strategy, the columns could peel off upon separate courses, each behind its own commander. The two ellith, however, would remain with the king.

For the rest of the afternoon they rode ere Helluin again signaled the king again for a pause, and he stopped his force ere reaching the crest of a rolling ridge. Thither both Elves dismounted, and with stealth made their way to the top, thence to espy their enemies.

Now the Dwarf host stretched in three marching companies behind a vanguard bearing long axes and numbering a hundred. Directly towards the Elves they marched, about a mile distant. To either side the ground lay flat and grassy but past its first spring green; ideal country indeed for cavalry. Yet the Naugrim were heavily armored and heavily armed. No careless bolt would slay them and the riders would soon learn that the Dwarf armor would turn many a sword blow. They would also learn how strong of arm and spirit these enemies were. A sweeping stroke of a broad-bladed axe could well 'nigh cleave an unarmored man in two or break the ribs of one encased in plate. And Helluin knew that once inflamed by battle, few were the causes that could turn away their wrath.

_We art five hundreds set against three and one half thousands,_ Beinvír said silently to Helluin as she looked her in the eyes. _And though the Naugrim hath no archers amongst them and the Northmen hath the advantage of being mounted, still this battle could be quick to turn ill._

_Aye, _Helluin agreed. _'Tis a chancy engagement at best. Alas that Ërlick hast not joined us. Another two hundred riders could be a great aid in this cause._

She searched the horizon for some tell-tale rising of dust, but no such did she spy. _And perhaps none would I spy, for the ground hast a full coverage of grass for many miles 'round, the better to soften the beating of hooves,_ she thought_. With all the tramping feet of the Dwarves so close to hand I should be hard pressed even to hear the rumor of their passage in the ground itself were they not close to hand. Ahhh well. _

In the west she saw storm clouds rising.

"The enemy is 'nigh, O King," Helluin reported to Lüdhgavia as she and the Green Elf returned to the mounted column. "They art as we saw aforetime; three and one half thousands afoot and heavily girded for war."

"A strong force they art, O King," Beinvír added, "and even mounted thou shalt be sorely matched, perhaps even o'er matched, for thy force is outnumbered seven to one. I doubt Helluin and I can slay more than one in ten on thy behalf."

Here the king looked worried for a moment, but quickly reclaimed his confidence.

"We shalt ride down upon them and slay such a tithe that the rest shalt be only too willing to withdraw. Surely such foes shalt abandon the field rather than fight to a bitter end once one in three lie dead. Oft hath we put enemies to flight ere we slew all."

But Helluin was't shaking her head ere he finished and he cocked his head to her in question.

"Know thou 'aught of these foes such that thou would gainsay my wisdom?" He asked.

"I do indeed," the Noldo told him with certainty. "Oft enough aforetime hath I seen armies of Dwarves fight 'til their foes lay vanquished or fled the field just as thou hath said, when the losses o'ercome their foes' will to fight. Once only hath I heard tell of an army of Naugrim withdrawing from a battle, and that in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad in Beleriand whence fell Azaghâl, Lord of Belegost, to Glaurung the _Fealóce_**¹**. 'Twas o'er 4,500 years aforetime, and in their withdrawal from the field they slew all who would hath stayed them until none dared hinder their march. They art a warlike and steadfast folk, O King; hardy warriors, well armed and well trained. Underestimate them not." **¹**(**fealóce**, a fire breathing dragon (sing.) Quenya)

Now the king gave pause for thought upon Helluin's words; the odds against his company would hath stood badly enough against him had his foes been Easterlings or Yrch.

"Hath thou some strategy that might aid us?" he asked.

Eyeing the approaching thunderheads, Helluin asked, "To the God of Fire in the East they had marched, and into flames mayhaps they shalt still march this day. What say thee to firing the grass in a crescent to the fore to halt them? Thou may then ride down upon them from the flanks and from behind. I know the Naugrim art given to marshalling their ranks in lines, and save when surrounded, ill-favor fighting a foe from more than one direction."

As had the legions of Khazad-dûm in their battle upon Dagorlad in the War of the Last Alliance, the ranks replaced each other at the battlefront, bringing rested warriors ever to the fray as they advanced against the ranks of their foes. 'Twas the instinctive tactic of the Dwarves, for to hammer unceasingly at an obstacle 'til it yielded.

Lüdhgavia had harkened to Helluin's wisdom and he nodded his agreement.

"Bring torches unlit," he ordered a lieutenant, "and pass the word to Captain Tröben that his archers wrap arrowheads in oiled wool. We shalt fire the field of battle before the foemen." To the sergeant of his guard he said, "Kindle hither a fire, small and smokeless, that the torches may be lit ere the opening charge. Hasten now, for the enemy is nigh."

The officer of the guard nodded and hurried to gather kindling.

"O King," Helluin said to Lüdhgavia as they waited for his orders to be carried out, "when all stands ready and thy soldiers arrayed in their files ere the charge, allow first Beinvír and myself to appear upon the crest of the slope ahead of the enemy. I shalt offer them one last parlay; to turn back north or away to the east, or to be destroyed."

T'would hath been a great boon from Helluin. To allow this house of the Naugrim to enter the service of the Great Enemy would hath been magnanimous indeed.

For a moment the king looked Helluin in the eyes. Perhaps they need not fight after all? But then he perceived the doubt in her sapphire stare. Nay. In all likelihood the Dwarves would turn not, and ere night fell, many would lie fallen upon the field.

"Do 'aught as thou see fit, Helluin, but we shalt be ready should thy parlay fail."

To his words, Helluin and Beinvír nodded, and then dismounted, returning thence to the lee of the slope for to keep a watch upon their advancing enemies, while'st behind them the preparations for the battle were quickly achieved. When the North Men finally stood ready and their king signaled it thus, the foe's vanguard lay not a furlong from the crest behind which the two ellith lay. They rose to their feet as one.

"Halt! Halt thou, O children of Mahal!" the Noldo cried out in Khuzdul. "'Naught shalt thou find in this land save death. Turn away!"

Her words of command, shouted 'cross a scant eleven score yards of grass in their own ancestral tongue by one of alien race, shocked the entire army of the Naugrim to their core. Few were those who had ever learnt 'aught of that tongue in all the Ages of Arda, for ever had the Dwarves been loath to teach. Since the establishment of their mansions in the Iron Mountains, their kindred had taught none.

Now Helluin's reminder of their debt of reverence to their creator brought them to stillness and their forward march ceased. No small count amongst their numbers had whispered long against their king's new course; to offer their service to the God of Fire in the east, whose servants claimed him a peer of Aulë**¹**, Father of the Dwarves and God of the Forge. Indeed many a soldier had thought their course blasphemous. **¹**(The claim of Sauron being a peer of Mahal/Aulë was false, for in the beginning he had been a Maia in the Vala Aulë's service. Sil., Valaquenta, OtE, pg 26).

But others, more numerous and more powerful within the army, clove still to the will of their king; the more so following his unavenged death at the hand of some craven and unknown murderer. One thing only did they know for sure. Their lord's killer had taken a treasured heirloom, had in fact robbed his corpse, and with its loss had come a diminution of their inspiration and a faltering of their resolve. And since his death, those officers who still followed their deceased lord's wishes had fought an increasingly difficult battle of wills with the dissenters. Indeed 'twas an increasingly harsh line that they'd enforced just to hold the army together, and yet now there stood one before them issuing a challenge to their mission, and thereby jeopardizing their very cohesiveness. Ere any could answer, the dark figure upon the rise spoke again.

"Take thy steps back, north to thy mansions in the Emyn Angren whence thou came. Or if thou must, then into the east, to thralldom and misery. This God of Fire thou seek to serve I hath known aforetime, and he is 'naught but a breaker of oaths and a tormentor of slaves!"

And with those words, open dissention flared amongst the Dwarvish host. Many voices rose upon both sides and the army was't close to breaking ranks. Yet one amongst them spoke with the passion of his father, though the words had come from further east.

"Hear me and heed not the enchantments of this strange Elf. Our king set before us a path, and though he hast fallen, his orders stand!"

The army fell silent, and though some did so grudgingly, they harkened to him.

"We make our own way and take no orders from those unknown to us," he cajoled them, "even when spoken in our own tongue! Such words beguile, and even were there truths amongst them, marked thou not the threat at their heart? This ragged stranger seeks to turn us from our way, from the way of our king, as if we were children to be frightened and cowed with threats and hearsay and lies!"

Upon the hill Helluin groaned out loud and the Green Elf rolled her eyes.

Below them the soldiers straightened, tightening their ranks and reclaiming their resolve. The army was't again poised to advance.

"A stranger to thy house I may be, but I hath spoken no lies," Helluin told them, causing them to pause again. "I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Noldor. For o'er 5,000 years I hath warred in this Middle Earth. Thrice I hath met thy God of Fire in battle. Thrice he hast escaped me! His servants I hath vanquished in combat aforetime.

I know this god and his name is Sauron, called also Gorthaur, the Abhorrent One. He is an ancient spirit of evil! Long hast he been the Enemy of my people. Long did he serve the greater evil, Morgoth Bauglir, of old, the enemy of thy creator. Be ye ware if thou would serve him! He keeps not his word, but twists his promises to his own service," Helluin warned. "To thy doom only shalt thou go should thou follow the path of thy king, for Sauron hast bewitched him to his service."

Now again was't the spirit of the army challenged, for the name of Sauron had been heard in ancient tales, though none from their mansion had ever had dealings with him. Yet their lore carried weight the less whither Sauron was't concerned, and so finally 'twas the words of the late king's son that swayed the army and decided their course.

"The words of this Elf thou shalt not follow," he cried out in a great voice, "for such folk hath n'er been friends to our house! Our king was't the father of his people, the fifth of his name! Wisdom and prosperity only hath come of his taking oath with the fire god, and in token of his esteem did he gift my father a token; a Ring of alliance! That Ring's power many hath sensed, and I not the least, for as our king's heir, unto my hand should it hath passed. Yet I feel this Ring still! I feel it nearer now than I hath in many days. Indeed I feel it close ahead, as if it were abiding with this strange Elf, and in that do I see a thing strange and fell. I should hew off the head and hand of this stranger, thither to find our king's token, I wager, and thither to avenge his murder in the same stroke!"

Now he had the full attention of the Dwarf army and the dark Noldo marked the waves of anger seething from the soldiery. In his words she had heard her earlier fears given voice. The king she had slain and who's _fëa_ she had sent hence to the Void had indeed been the father of his people and the founder of his mansion, and he would'st n'er return again to lead them in Middle Earth. More pressing though was't the newly cemented resolve of the army.

_Nothing fosters solidarity like a visible enemy, _the Noldo thought, _Ahhh well._

On the plain below the two ellith, the Dwarf prince raised his long, double-headed axe and cried out, "I am Zärlagab, son of Inkishûsh, and I will avenge my father this day! I will avenge our king! Stand with me now, brothers!"

And the army surged forward, his to command.

"A fine parlay that was, Helluin," Beinvír muttered, ere she let forth a piercing whistle to signal the North Men's cavalry.

Now the Dwarves came on at a trot, quickly closing the distance, but ere they covered half the space separating them from the Elves, swarms of arrows trailing black smoke arced into the sky. Upon the fore of the army they fell and quickly the flames caught on the drying grass, so that as the vanguard of the army ground to a halt but 30 yards from the crest of the slope, their ranks were faced with a wall of fire. For a moment confusion reigned. Then the horns of the North Men shattered the air and the pounding of hoof beats shook the ground.

O'er the line of the slope charged two rows of riders, King Lüdhgavia at the head of one, Captain Tröben leading the other. Swiftly they rode down upon their foes, spears bristling in the sunlight. From other riders came flights of arrows, slamming into their targets from no more than twenty yards, and some found their marks. To eye or throat, or the seams twixt mail and helm they struck, and the warriors of the Naugrim began to fall.

Yet 'twas not so many from their count as to stay their wrath, and after their first moments of dismay, the Dwarves closed ranks upon their flanks, meeting their enemies with bitter strokes of their axes. All 'round Zärlagab the vanguard was't compressed, while'st the better part of the combat took place to the sides of the army's column.

In the beginning, when Aulë first showed forth his creations before Ilúvatar, his spouse Yavanna, mistress of all that grows, lamented the damage her husband's works would inflict on her own. 'Twas for the olvar who flee not that her heart was't turned, but the Dwarves that Aulë created spared the kelvar little more, and in battle t'would hew horses as quickly as the foes who rode them.

So 'twas that many a mount was't hamstrung or beheaded, and many a rider unhorsed. For those riders, afoot and greatly outnumbered, out-armed and out-armored, fate was't harsh. The heavy axes of the Dwarves made short work of their leather armor, and what plates they wore were riven and shivered. Constrained thither in the aisles 'twixt the their own columns and the army of the Naugrim, a growing litter of Men and horses lay fallen, and their comrades were loath to ride o'er them on their return charges. Indeed these obstacles hampered the North Men's attacks so that soon Helluin and Beinvír could foresee the failing of their strategy and the loss of the field. As their return charge passed the massed ranks of the Dwarves, thirty of the five hundred riders lay fallen.

Worse yet, the vanguard of the Naugrim with Zärlagab at their center was't advancing to their flank facing the column of the king. Once they gained that position they would be able to concentrate upon that flank of the battle, engaging the North Men's charges in a war of attrition ere switching their focus to their remaining flank. Upon the flank facing Captain Tröben, the Dwarves' lines merely held position in a solid defense.

_I see their strategy and 'tis a good one, _the Noldo thought, _for once King __Lüdhgavia's column __is slaughtered, their ranks shalt concentrate upon their other flank, worsting_ _Captain Tröben's cavalry with the press of their numbers. This I cannot allow!_

'Nigh on 4,000 years aforetime Helluin had convinced the Avari ofKing Telpeapáro of Calenglad i'Dhaer to do battle with the Yrch who had invaded their forest from the northern Hithaeglir, lest the Onodrim call forth their _Huorns_ and sweep clean the wood of all that went upon two legs. The battle had been a disaster. War had been unknown to the Avari, and the horrors of the killing had driven them from the field with great loss. In guilt and rage, Helluin alone had remained, and she had slain the Yrch to the last ere burying her fallen allies and taking her leave. Three millennia later she had convinced King Oropher of the Greenwood to join the Last Alliance and march to war in Mordor. In the ten years that the fighting had raged, the king was't lost and o'er two-thirds of his fighters as well. Even a thousand years later, her guilt and shame would not allow Helluin to approach her old friend, King Thranduil. But at the heart of it all and still too clear in her Elvish memory, was't the death of her own younger brother Verinno upon the ice of the Helcaraxë during the Exile of the Noldor. From Aman he had followed her with trust, his curiosity and imagination fired by his older sister's tales of the wonders she had once seen in Middle Earth on the Westward March. And now before her lay the coming decimation of Lüdhgavia's riders, the very people she had been commanded by a Maia to lead west into Anduin's vale.

10


	105. In An Age Before Chapter 105

Chapter 105

**Chapter Sixty-seven**

_**Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now seeing the impending doom of her allies, outnumbered, outclassed, and outfought, Helluin drew the black coif of _galvorn _washed _mithril _o'er her head. At her side, Beinvír readied her bow.

'Twas fear commingled with rage that kindled the ancient Noldo's battle fire. As her body grew incandescent with a _ril _of silver and gold, she drew the black sword Anguirél while'st her left hand plucked the Sarchram from its clip at her belt. Blue fire flared in her eyes.

Upon Helluin's right, the Green Elf knocked and fired her first arrow, its flight passing through the blaze of Helluin's luminescence and thence through the wall of flames. It kindled and smote the lieutenant of Zärlagab's vanguard through the eye-slot of his iron war mask.

Then o'er the field Helluin's ancient battle cry rang out, chilling the blood of Naugrim and North Men alike with the rage it presaged.

"_Im pedo, beltho huiniath!"_

From the black sword of Gondolin came the cold and eager voice of Anguirél, _"Baw díhenas!__Im aníro sereg!"_

Then Helluin and Beinvír charged down the slope to join the king and fall upon their enemies, and the Dwarves saw their coming as a blinding arrow of flame or a shooting star, advancing upon them in the light of day from Varda's sapphire vault. But the riders felt uplifted and they took heart, and their courage was't renewed. They charged now upon their enemies, jabbing with their bitter spears and keeping the axes of their foes at bay with their greater reach. Arrows they loosed upon the Naugrim from short range, ever moving upon their steeds, stinging and then gone ere the counterstroke fell. In their hearts, though they understood not the Sindarin of Helluin's cry, still they felt her battle fire in their own hearts, and they slew with joy, some singing the war songs of their fathers, while'st yet others took up the cries of the Noldo and her sword in their own tongue; _"I say, kill 'em all!",_ _"No mercy! I want blood!" _

Against the vanguard of the Dwarves, the Green Elf loosed her arrows, and each of her two dozen shafts found a lethal mark amongst the bodyguard of Prince Zärlagab. Though the speed of her firing was't but a blur to their mortal eyes, each drawing of her bow encompassed that moment of flawless aim in which the motions of archer, arrow, and target coalesced to a meeting well 'nigh preordained by the Laiquende's prowess. O'er 4,000 years of shooting assured her mastery, and it came from a tradition that had been born ere the Sun or Moon rose o'er Beleriand in the First Age of Middle Earth.

Yet as those standing 'nigh the prince fell to the Green Elf's bow craft, a more ancient rage was't visited upon them. Clad in the peerless mail and plate from the smithies of Khazad-dûm, yet taller and more deadly than any servant of Mahal, Helluin slammed into her enemies with the fearlessness of one fey, yet with the lethal skills of the deathless warriors of Aman. In her right hand she wielded the black blade forged by Eol of Nan Elmoth, while'st in her left she bore the first Elvish Ring of Power, forged by Celebrimbor and Narvi, infused with the power of her own _fëa_, and inscribed with fell runes of dark potency. Both weapons hewed the Dwarf armor as if it were 'naught but leather or wicker. With the _Sarchram_ she clove axe heads from their shafts. With Anguirél she pierced mail and plate. In her fury she well 'nigh carved armored bodies as if they were haunches upon the board at a feast. Arms and heads she lopped free. Warriors she impaled through the eye slits of their iron masks, driving her blade straight through the backs of their helms ere she flung the limp bodies from her weapon. In a quarter hour she was't slick with blood, and the spray of it went up with the violence of her strokes. She carved a path straight through the vanguard, for her goal was't the prince himself, and 'naught upon that field could stay her.

Tirelessly did the dark Noldo advance and Zärlagab's orders came faster and more urgently as she drew 'nigh.

"Slay me this murderer of our king," he cried out to exhort his warriors as he turned from her to face them. "Avenge thy lord and the father of our people!"

'Twas not for lack of trying that none could withstand Helluin's assault. But a year aforetime she had slain 'nigh on two hundreds of the minions of the Sorcerer during her rampage in Dól Gúldúr. Through the ranks of the vanguard she cut her way, leaving a swath of stricken and broken soldiers behind her. 'Twas no stopping her. Indeed 'twas folly to try. None upon that field that day could hath withstood her; not even the Green Elf who hewed her way beside her with paired fighting knives glinting fast in the bright sunlight. And then the prince of the Naugrim looked back and there she stood before him, dripping with the blood of his guard.

For a moment they were frozen, still as stone, looking into each other's eyes; sapphire blue and a brown so dark as to appear black, and then the Noldo raised her sword before her as if in salute. Thither, upon the first finger of her mailed fist was't a heavy Ring of gold, set with a grey-green stone, the ancient work of Celebrimbor of Hollin. Recognizing it after a moment's hesitation, Prince Zärlagab's eyes widened in shock.

"Taunt me with thy stolen treasure, murderer?" he shouted as rage consumed him.

But Helluin's lips curled in a sneer as she regarded the prince.

"All that comes to pass shalt be seen by the Great Enemy in his malice, for this Ring hast been perverted to his service," she told him, "and though such a trinket might rule a lesser mind to thralldom, to me 'tis 'naught but a trinket still. He tried to rule me through his enchantments long ago. He tried and he failed."

In SA 1600, 2,843 years aforetime and far to the west in Eriador, Sauron had made his gambit to enslave Helluin through the Sarchram which held a fragment of her own _fëa._ In a spiritual battle that had lasted half a year, the dark Noldo had wrested back control of her Ring, and she had fenced the fallen Maia out with his own element, fire. She had kept him blind to her upon well 'nigh every day since. Now she allowed him to see somewhat of her by wearing the Ring with which he had enslaved the will of the Naugrim's king.

"Thank me thou should, for I hath freed thy father from servitude unending," Helluin told him, "and now I shalt free thee from the lust of it as well."

And ere he could recover from his shock, the black blade whistled and hewed off his head.

Now after the slaughter of their prince, the Dwarf army fought on bitterly, and in time their rage and their numbers sufficed to worst the North Men. Upon both flanks their lines advanced with fell and merciless wrath. Fey indeed did they seem, so hot did the resolve and courage of the mountain dwellers burn. With bare hands did they haul down Men from their steeds, heedless of their spear points and sword blades. Many a valiant rider fell to the axes of the Naugrim that day, and the field was't littered with the bodies of Men and horses. Blood flowed 'neath the westering sun and the storm clouds finally cast their pall o'er the battle. Bereft of king and prince, the line of their ruling house broken, these Dwarves who had abandoned their ancestral home in the Emyn Angren fought as though they had no further joy in life and 'naught left to lose.

Yet many were the Dwarves who fell thither as well, and though their count was't cut down to below a quarter of its first strength, the horsemen were soon so few that they could no longer offer battle. Fallen was't King Lüdhgavia, unhorsed and o'erwhelmed amidst a circle of foemen, hacked limb from limb as he swung his sword. The valiant Captain Tröben and the knights of his guard, hewed as they rode to the rescue of their dying lord, lay lifeless beside him in their own pooling blood. Of five hundreds, barely fifty Men were still horsed and sound, and they could scarce assail the 'nigh on 900 surviving Naugrim.

As the first of the rains fell that evening, the Green Elf drew aside her partner for a moment from the whirlwind frenzy of slaying she'd become consumed in.

"_Helluin! _ _Min nar eriol,_**¹**_"_ Beinvír called out to the rampaging warrior.**¹(Min nar eriol**_**We are alone,**__**Min**_(1st pers subj pro, _we_)** + na**(no-, _be_ + 3rd pers pl present suff, _–ar_) +_**eriol**_(alone) Sindarin**)**

"_Baw,"_ Helluin replied after pausing to take a look about, _"ennas nar limb si degad!_** ²**_"_**²(Baw, ennas nar limb si degad! **_**Nay, there are many here to slay!**__**Baw,**_(no) + _**ennas**_(there) **+ na**(are, no- + 3rd pers pl present suff, _–ar_) + _**limb**_(many) + _**si**_(here) + _**degad **_(to slay, dagi- + inf v suff, _-ad_) Sindarin**)**

Yet she marked the king's fallen standard and the few demoralized and shocked warriors who rode without captain or lieutenant, purposeless upon the margins of the field.

One look at her beloved caused the Laiquende's eyes to widen. Helluin was't dripping head to foot with the blood of her fallen enemies, while'st a maniacal glint brightened her eyes and a sneer shaped her lips. Not since their solitary war against the Glamhoth in Eregion in an Age before had she seen Helluin so consumed. Even as the Green Elf watched, the Noldo lashed out with her left hand and sheared both arms from an attacking Dwarf with the Sarchram. 'Twas followed by a cackle of glee. Surely want of time only stayed the Noldo from atrocities. Perhaps even that accursed one of the Seven that she now wore exerted some dark influence. With a sigh, Beinvír resumed her sword play.

"_Seregui! Seregui! _**³**"the thirsty black sword chanted, as wholly consumed with the bloodshed as her mistress.**³(Seregui! Seregui! **_Ver. trans. __**More blood! More blood! **__**sereg**_(blood) + _**-ui**_(adj on noun suff, for amplification, usually _-ful,-y_) Sindarin**)**

With Helluin fully occupied in the slaughter, 'twas the Green Elf who marked first the lightning and thunder from the southwest. She cocked an ear thither for a moment. _Tis the heightening of the storm come upon us at last, _she thought ere she returned to the fighting, _and glad I should be for the washing away of all this gore._

For the two ellith time passed without measure, for 'naught could be counted but the fall of their enemies and the beating of their own hearts. As had Helluin been during her battle with the Úlairi in the cavern of Mt. Doom, so now did they exist wholly divorced from the concerns of the world and completely focused upon the fighting. In their success was't the war craft of the Dwarves somewhat to blame. Only so many could surround an encircled foe while'st still retaining room to swing their axes, and this, combined with the prowess and tireless speed of the Elves made it well 'nigh impossible for the Naugrim to lay a weapon upon either Helluin or Beinvír. And so the pair moved amidst their enemies and the bodies of the vanquished fell all 'round them. _Ere Anor's rising we shalt truly be alone,_ Helluin thought, _and as 'twas in Taur-Im-Duinath when I aided Maedhros and Maglor in the defense of the Peredhil, t'will be fair Ithil and bright Eärendil that shalt witness our victory. _

Yet that outcome was't not to be without cost unlooked for. Clouds covered the sky, rain fell, and the burning grass was't long extinguished. In the fourth hour of the battle, as Anor sought the western horizon and the rains continued to fall, a mischance unlooked for came upon the two ellith. Oft times the Dwarves had given flight to the short hafted axes they carried in their belts, using these as thrown weapons. The whistling of a thrown axe as it spun through the air was't warning aplenty to allow Helluin or Beinvír to duck or dodge aside. 'Twas only when by chance two of the Naugrim flung their axes so closely in time that their telltale sounds became conjoined that the situation became deadly. The first axe came from before the two ellith and Helluin easily sidestepped its flight. The Green Elf too marked its course, and realizing t'would pass her by some six inches, ignored it.

The second axe was't no threat to the Noldo. She marked its path from her right and then turned her attention from it. Beinvír heard it and prepared to duck safely 'neath its course as she thrust with the sword in her left hand. 'Twas the third axe, thrown from the rear, and from a distance of but two fathoms, that proved fell. Just as the Green Elf dipped her upper body to evade the second axe, the third slammed into it in midair close by, and changing thus the courses of both, struck a glancing blow to the side of Beinvír's head.

The impact was't from the hafted end of the axe head rather than the blade, but its weight and speed stunned the Laiquende and drove her to her knees. For a moment she saw stars and memories of things long ago. She barely got her right blade up in time to ward off the edge of a swung axe, deflecting it harmlessly o'er her head and throwing the Dwarf who wielded it off balance on the muddy field. He slipped. The force of his two-handed swing carried him 'round on one skidding boot, and he crashed hard into the stricken Elf, driving both to the ground and pinning her 'neath him with his armored weight, while'st impaling himself upon the long knife in her right hand. The crashing of his iron helm upon the Green Elf's already spinning head rendered her senseless and spilt her blood from a wound upon her scalp.

Far to the east, in a high fortress tower 'nigh the banks of the Sea of Rhûn, Sauron watched what his Ring showed forth of Helluin's combat. He wrung his vaporous hands in frustration as he watched his servants falling before the black blade of his greatest living foe. 'Twas not 'til the Noldo turned, having missed the whistling sounds of her partner's knives, that he saw 'aught to bring a cruel grin to his face. The Green Elf lay prone and unmoving 'neath one of his Dwarvish warriors. The o'erwhelming fear and rage he felt from Helluin brought him 'nigh the point of climax, so strongly did he relish her anguish. Then all his vision of the battle was't eclipsed in a blinding flash of mingled silver and gold that seared both his undead eye and his foul spirit ere all went dark.

Upon the field Helluin saw her fallen beloved and the worst of her fears lay seemingly made real before her eyes. Beinvír slain; her treasured life stolen by some short-lived and mortal foe, her _fëa_ even at that moment taking flight to Aman and the Halls of Mandos. Without a thought her strategies failed and in their place grew something more primal and far more potent; the ancient anguish she'd first felt upon the endless ice of the Helcaraxë ere she'd ever set foot back in Middle Earth.

_Verinno! Beinvír! G__úr_**¹**_!_ **¹(**_**Gúr**_(death) Sindarin**)**

Once in Eriador in an Age before, Helluin had spoken of this very chance with her old friend Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of fallen Gondolin.

_"Helluin, I knew thee in Gondolin and ere that in Aman. I knew thy brother too. You know I understand the source of thy darkness and what drives thee in battle. I see thee now with Beinvír and I am happy for thee both. But I cannot imagine what would come to pass should some doom befall her and leave thou alive, tied then to the world by yet another bond of heartache and memory."_

_"She refused passage to Tol Eressëa to stay with me," Helluin whispered. And after a pause, she added even more softly, "I would bathe this world in blood to avenge her."_

'Twas but one of many memories that flashed swift as lightning 'cross the warrior's mind, and they came and went in the fleeting of a heartbeat, retreating ere the rising tide of her helpless rage. As Helluin silently screamed the names of her long lost brother and her fallen lover, the power that she had absorbed in a millennium of standing 'neath the incandescent dewfall of Laurelin and Telperion burst forth from her in a blinding flare that scorched to their deaths all those who stood 'nigh, and consumed wholly the tainted Ring of the House of Emyn Angren. The gold of its band and the stone of Celebrimbor ceased to exist, for though they had once been fair, they were indeed accursed and could exist not within the holy radiance of the Trees of Yavanna.

'Neath a darkening sky that wept chill rain, the blazing of that Light exploded outwards like the blast of some Ithron's magick. That Holy _Ril_ did not dissipate, but rather did it persist in an ever expanding ring, to be sensed by those with the power to feel it. So 'twas that far to the west, 'cross the great forest and the mighty river, and o'er the snow-capped Hithaeglir in hidden Imladris, two of the Wise reeled and gasped in shock as it passed through them ere it continued into Eriador. In the wide lands thither, one clad in grey clenched shut his eyes in apprehension of the sorrow it might portend. And further still, in the Uttermost West, 'cross the seas of the bent world, others yet more powerful still felt the return of their own, and while'st some rejoiced, others wondered at what this token might presage. Two of the High Ones understood; he who is most exalted upon Arda, and he unto whom final custody is given, and they traded in thought, 'cross many miles.

_Not yet ripe is the time._

_Nor Mortal Lands ready for the carnage to follow._

_Make fast the doors to thy halls._

_By thy command 'tis done…this time._

Far to the east, o'er the wide grasslands and the inland sea, amongst souls given to the worship of fire, the Nine consigned wholly to evil endured wracking spasms of pain from the assault of that ancient and pure Light that they could not long endure.

And to the East, but far closer, that same Light was't felt by some who knew it from long aforetime. Familiar and welcome it was't, yet wholly unexpected; a mystery. Five were chosen and these gathered their vassals and rode in haste to discover what such a token might portend.

When Helluin turned back to the battle her eyes seethed with a roiling blue flame that leapt from her sockets to crown her brow with churning sapphire. About her, for 'nigh on five fathoms in all directions, a swath of dead lay new-slain, their bodies mortally burnt and smoldering. And then with a salamander's cold turning of her head, Helluin began to search for victims; the first of those as would fall 'neath her merciless and unappeasable wrath. As in the depths of her campaign in Eriador during the War of the Elves and Sauron, she dispensed completely with all save her bloodlust. Even that one-time need to hew and mutilate the bodies of her foes for vengeance' sake was't abandoned. Now 'naught ruled her save pure and simple rage, and so she began to slay all she saw about her, careless and unconcerned about howsoever long it should take. _And when all these art fallen I shalt make next my way into the east…_she thought briefly ere she lost herself in the killing.

Now when flared that blast of ancient Light, the last remaining Riders were driven off by the panic of their steeds. Shame warred with fear in their hearts as they mastered their beasts. Whether to flee a battle lost and powers far beyond their station, or to stay and succumb to senseless and certain deaths. The fell warrior of the Eldar was't still well 'nigh a stranger to many of their folk, new come from a far away land, and yet she and her partner had slain many while'st fighting upon their king's behalf. Indeed now, though the smaller of the pair had fallen, the taller warrior had continued the battle with renewed and terrifying vigor. Could they do less? And yet their cavalry was't worsted, and whither so many had failed, wherefore could so few prevail? They were mortal Men, not like the armored warrior with her enchanted sword, or the flawless archer who could shoot 'aught that she could see. Better they should ride to find reinforcements. Better served would their folk be if they could but find Captain Ërlick and his riders, and lead them hither to rejoin the battle with all possible speed. And so they took their ways to the west, both north and south, and thence in zigzagging paths, back and forth 'cross the grasslands, ever searching amidst the gathering gloom for the column with Captain Ëlrick's pennant at the fore.

So 'twas through the deepening eve that the riders searched by ones or twos, and as Anor sank 'neath the horizon they sought for the last Captain and the last army of their people. Ithil rose, painting the fields with silver, and the droplets of fallen rain scattered 'cross the grass, twinkled like the diamond beaches 'nigh the Bay of Eldamar, whither the Teleri had once established their Swan Haven of Alqualonde, and which Helluin had last seen flowing dark with blood.

Now 'neath Ithil the battle went on. Shadows leapt and flickered, cast by the flaring _celeb a malt_**¹**_, _of Helluin's incandescence. Amidst the whirlwind of the black sword of Gondolin and the gleaming _mithril_ of the Sarchram, the Naugrim fell at a steady pace, for the unyielding determination of the Dwarves to avenge their king and the unappeasable wrath of the Noldo to avenge her beloved could not resolve in this life. **¹(celeb**(_silver_) + _**a**_(_and_) + _**malt**_(gold) Sindarin**)**

The combat continued unbroken, for many Naugrim yet lived and Helluin was't tireless in her rage. Another five hours came and went as steel clashed and Tilion crossed the heavens, and the swath of dead behind the Elvish warrior stretched back to the place of Beinvír's fall.

'Twas in that hour that the beat of approaching hooves was't finally heard growing in the distance. Riders approached from the east at a full gallop, and though some of the Dwarves looked thither with hope or trepidation, Helluin cared not. Whosoever 'twas, in coming hence, would either aid her cause or fall.

Another ten minutes passed and another few dozens lost their lives to the black sword, Anguirél. The riders were close now and Helluin marked them. _Three score only come, _she thought, _and so 'tis not Ëlrick's company, unless some evil hast befallen them. Ahhh well, it matters not. Too few art they to help or hinder what is to be. _And so the ancient Noldo turned their approach from her mind and paid them no further heed.

To be Continued

6


	106. In An Age Before Chapter 106

**Chapter 106**

Now when that company arrived upon the field andbeheld the combat they were struck at first to stillness and dismounted not, but simply stared with farseeing eyes, hardly able to believe the scene before them. Thither stood a lone warrior clad in black armor, slaying all comers. Nor did she await their onslaught as one backed to her defense, but rather she strode against them seeking for to slaughter, and 'neath her black blade an army was't being exterminated. To those few in that company who had seen its like aforetime, long ago in a forest far to the west, the swordplay was't unmistakable in its vicious perfection.

'Twas only by chance that Helluin happened to glance again to the east, and thither she saw heraldry that stopped her dead in her tracks, for 'twas not Lord Ërlick, but rather a lord of far greater lineage; the last prince of a great house of the Noldor, long forgotten and deemed lost from Middle Earth for countless lives of Men. By falling Ithil's sheen her farseeing eyes marked his standard, unfurled now and flying o'er the leading horse. Thither, upon a field of grey which in her memories had once been white, she saw clearly the emblem of a golden harp bordered by a diamond, itself composed of many radiating colors, like unto the gem upon the livery of the prince's fiery-spirited father, yet proclaiming this bearer by a token all his own. Helluin's mouth dropped open and she barely evaded the whistling axes of her foes, so great was't her amazement.

'Neath the standard she could see five figures dismounting now, and these glimmered as they drew swords and moved to join the battle. Amanyar! Calaquendi! Behind these five another fifty-five Elves dismounted, but these were Moriquendi and their dark figures cast no light as they set about preparing their bows. Indeed so dark were these warriors that once enveloped in their stealth, Helluin marked them not, even with her acute sight.

Though the remnant of the host of Emyn Angren stood embattled 'tween them, Helluin's eyes met those of the leader and greetings were exchanged without a sound.

_Mae govannen, meldis nín gem, and han nant ir methen mín govannen!_**¹ **the ellon said.** ¹****(Mae govannen, meldis nín gem, and han nant ir methen mín govannen. **_**Well met, my **__(female)__** friend of old, long it has been since last we met. **__**mae**_(well)_** + govannen**_(met)__+_** meldis**_( , sing)__+ _**nín**_ (1st pers poss pro, _my_) + _**gem**_(old (of things), sing)_**,**_ +_** and**_(long) +_** han**_(3rd pers sing dir obj pro, _it_) +_** nant**_(_**no-**_(be) + _**-ant**_(past v suff), _has been_) + _**ir**_(when, _ver. since_) + _**methen**_(last) + _**mín**_(1st pers pl pro, _we_) + _**govannen**_(met)_**.**_** Sindarin)**

_Mae govannen, meldir nín gem, an__dúr__ han noant!_**²**she agreed. **²****(Mae govannen, meldir nín gem, and****úr**** han noant. **_**Well met, my **__(male)__** friend of old, very long it has been indeed! = mae**_(well)_** + govannen**_(met)__+_** meldis**_( , sing)__+ _**nín**_ (1st pers poss pro, _my_) + _**gem**_(old (of things), sing)_**,**_ +_** and**_(long) + _**-úr**_(intensive agent)+_** han**_(3rd pers sing dir obj pro, _it_) +_** noant**_(_**no-**_(be) + _**-o**_(imp) _**-ant**_(past v suff), _has been!_). **Sindarin)**

She quickly reckoned the years at close to 4,350. 'Twas all of the Second Age plus a thousand years of the Third since he and his brother had taken their leave to enter the camp of the victorious Host of Aman in one last doomed attempt to fulfill their father's oath, back in a time when there had been a treasure in Middle Earth sufficient to drive a people to defy their gods and embark upon a hopeless path of vengeance. How could it be that he yet lived, let alone had come upon the battle? The wide blade of a double axe whistled past her ear and Helluin returned her attention to the slaughter. With a sweeping slash of her blade a pair of soldiers from the Iron Mountains fell beheaded at her feet. She moved on and the black sword rejoiced anew.

For most of another quarter hour Helluin and her unexpected allies fought their way towards each other, and though the remnant of the Dwarvish army stood at first 'twixt them, the fell and incomparable prowess they unleashed could not be withstood by any skill of mortal kind. So in the last hour of the night, with Ithil set and Arien's coming close at hand, the warriors of the Noldor met at last.

_"Maglor, iond Feanor tadui, non merenwain garad cin magol dan cyth nin. Im nauth cin gorth and!"_**¹ **Helluin exclaimed, still utterly amazed at his presence. Despite her joy at their meeting, she stilled not her sword and her words were punctuated by the gurgle of breath round Anguirél's tip, sunk in a foe's throat. **¹(Maglor, iond Feanor tadui, non merenwain garad cin magol dan cyth nin. Im nauth cin gorth and! **_**Maglor, second son of Feanor, I am most happy to have**__**your aid **__(lit trans__** your**__**sword against my enemies**__). __**I thought you long dead! **__**Maglor**__**iond**__(_son_) __**Feanor**__(genitive construc., _son of Feanor_)_ _**tad**__(two)_ _**-ui**__(ordinal suff, _second, _adj modifying proceeding noun)_ _**no-**__(be)_ _**-n**__(1st pers subj suff, _I am_) __**meren**__(lit. joyous/happy)_ _**-wain**__(superlative suff, _happiest_/_most happy_) __**garo-**__(have)__**-ad**__(infin. suff, _to have_) __**cin**__(2nd pers sing poss pron, _your_) __**magol**__(sword)_ _**dan**__(against) __**cyth**__(enemies, pl) __**nin**__(1st pers sing poss pro, _my_).\_**. **_**Im**__(1st pers subj pro, _I_) __**nauth**__(thought) __**cin**__(2nd pers obj pro, _you_) __**gorth**__(dead) __**and**__(long)__**! **_**Sindarin)**

_"Sui cin, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, non brondir,"_**² **he answered as he swung his own sword.**²(Sui cin, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, non brondir. **_**Like you**__ (lit trans _As you_)_**, **_**Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, I am a survivor. = Sui**__(as)__** + cin(**__2nd pers dir obj pro, _you_)__**,**_ +_** no-**__(be)_ _**-n**__(1st pers subj suff, _I am_) +__** brono- **__(survive)__**-(d)ir**__(agent, m suff) _Sindarin**)**

To that she could but laugh in agreement as they hewed her enemies. Though Maglor would ever be 'nigh on 1,400 years her junior, they were both now so old that the difference had begun to pale. Each had spent o'er 5,050 years in Middle Earth. More important still, they were both Amanyar who had lived in the Blessed Realm during the Age of the Trees.

"And having survived aforetime, let us survive this night as well," she declared.

To this the deposed prince of the Host of Finwë laughed.

"Helluin," he said o'er the clash of arms, "whensoever thou would hath the fighting cease thou need only speak the word."

"Pray share thy counsel, old friend," she asked, eyeing him askance past the arc of her blade, "for ever hath I found my best and strongest arguments at the end of my sword."

"Thou art a great warrior," Maglor replied, "and a better with the sword I hath not seen in all my years, yet thou art not alone."

"What allies save thee and thy vassals hath I now to hasten this end, pray tell? And what of the two score and fifteen Moriquendi who came hence with thee?" Helluin asked. "Bah…but another two hours, I deem, ere the field be still."

Maglor laughed and then brought his left hand to his mouth, and setting thither two fingers, produced a whistle of such a piercing note that it brought tears to Helluin's eyes. And then she saw again that illusion of a landscape coming to life that had first left her astonished as the Laiquendi of Ossiriand revealed themselves. For long moments she could only stare, as it seemed the tall grass rose upon two sides to fall upon her enemies. So focused by Maglor's whistle had those foes been, that 'twas many heartbeats ere the Naugrim reacted to this new threat.

Helluin watched the slaughter, hewing only such as approached her now, and no longer pursuing her foes. 'Twas with bows and arrows that the Moriquendi slew the Naugrim, having positioned themselves to create a cross-fire, that left the Dwarves in a killing ground. Like the Laiquendi of Eriador, they worked in loose ranks and with inhuman precision, each archer firing past the heads and bows of those standing before them, though all were in constant motion, rising to fire, dropping to move, and rising again in a new position. So effectively did this formation mow down the Naugrim that Helluin realized the last few hundreds of the soldiers from the Emyn Angren would fall in but a few minutes.

Now when those last lay slain, the archers stood down their ranks and they moved forward with knocked shafts and bows ready, surveying the dead and searching for any wounded. Indeed there were none of either in their own company for they had closed not within fifty feet of their foes during the fighting. Those few of the enemy they found still living they dispassionately shot point blank.

With the battle ended there lay many questions, yet despite Helluin's curiosity about these unknown allies and her thankfulness for Maglor's aid, her first and o'er-riding concern was't to retrieve Beinvír's body. Thus she made her way back 'cross the bloody field, retracing the steps of her rampage, and passing amidst the bloody work of hours in a few score shuddering and apprehensive strides. Thither did her unfailing senses lead her, seeing all too clear in her flawless Elvish memory, the fallen body of her beloved.

The place of Beinvír's fall she found straightaway. The Green Elf still lay crumpled 'neath the deadweight of her last slain foe, her blade still impaling his armored chest. The streak of blood that had flowed from the scalp wound inflicted by that enemy's helm had been partially washed clean by the rain, yet scarlet still bright and fresh could be seen slowly seeping. Looking down upon the Green Elf, Helluin was't struck by the look of peace that graced her face and stricken by a hundred memories that flashed before her mind's eye in the space of a few hitching breaths. Indeed she lived in two times at once and scarcely marked that Maglor came to stand beside her.

"Such bloodshed hath thou wrought in payment for her injury, old friend" the singer of the House of Feanor softly said as he shook his head in amazement. "I dare not imagine thy vengeance had she indeed been slain."

'Twas the slow turning of a lizard's head and the cold of reptilian eyes that met his gaze. The warrior was't still in shock and the blood-surge of the slaughter had yet to fully abate. At first she thought he jested.

"Say again, old friend," she grated out. "After I bring my beloved to her rest, I march east to visit my wrath upon the Dark Lord himself, wheresoever that craven master of thralls may skulk, for I am far from done. The darkness this Middle Earth now holds for me I shalt share, for her death I lay at his feet and add to the debt of blood he already owes."

The second son of Feanor regarded Helluin carefully for a moment ere he spoke, for the heartbreak and wrath that rolled from her fairly chilled his bones.

"That darkness thou see hast clouded first thy own sight, Helluin, and though few would rue Sauron Gorthaur's passing for whatever reason, for now thy companion lives still. Doth thou not mark the color of the blood from her wound? 'Tis fresh. I say she lives still, if just barely. Make haste to tend her."

Then in disbelief, Helluin fell to her knees beside the Green Elf, and drawing from its belt clip the bright Sarchram, she set it 'neath Beinvír's nostrils, and after a moment the faintest hazing from her exhalation could be seen.

So with the healer's skills she had learnt through long Ages in both the Mortal Lands and Aman, Helluin quickly treated Beinvír's wounds, first cleaning the cuts and then applying a poultice of herbs from their travel bags. A bandage held all in place and protected the wound, but from the shock that had come of the blow itself, such treatments would not suffice.

It took Helluin little time to realize that the cut upon Beinvír's scalp endangered her not and 'twas some other hurt that kept her from waking. Yet Helluin had seen not the cause of her wound and her beloved could tell her 'naught. So the Noldo laid her hands gently upon either side of her beloved's face, and bending low o'er her, brought their foreheads to touch. Then she closed her eyes and willed herself to meet that which could not be seen, for she sought for her lover _fëa_ to _fëa._

'Twas into a place of darkness that she came, blending the black of closed eyes with the black of unconsciousness. Softly she called Beinvír's name, over and over, in a whisper intimate and tender to be heard by the heart. 'Twas not as for another for whom she sought, for through their love and the connection of their _fëar_, 'twas more akin to seeking for a part of herself estranged for a time, yet known more intimately than the heartbeat of a mortal twin. She found the darkness restful and it held no fear. 'Twas empty, yet wholly familiar. In knowing it thus, Helluin could perceive it with her heart's eye, and seeing it thus, she formed a vision for reference sake. In the sight of her heart the blackness became less than pure, as though lit by one solitary glance of an ancient and unblinking star. _'Tis no darkness upon the face of Arda into which the Light of Varda cannot come. Áye, Héri i Elenion!_**¹ ¹****(Áye, Héri i Elenion!** _**Hail, Lady of the Stars! **_= _**Áye**_(Hail) + _**Héri**_(Lady) + _**i**_(def art, _the_) + _**Elen**_(star)+ _**-ion**_(gen pl suff, _of stars_)Quenya_**)**_

_Beinvír, meldwain melien_**¹, **Helluin softly called,_úrenio! Tulo na nin!_**²** ** ¹**(**meldwain melien **_**dearest beloved = meld**_(dear) + _**-wain**_(adj. superlative, _dearest_) + _**melo-**_(v. love) + _**-ien**_(fem agent, verb as noun, _beloved_) Sindarin**) ** **²**(**úrenio! Tulo na nin.**_** wander not! Come to me! = ú-**_ (neg. v. pref.) + _**renio-**_ (wander) + _**-o**_(imp.v. suff) + _**tulo-**_(come) + _**-o**_(imp. v. suff) + _**na**_(to) + _**nin**_(1st pers. sing. dir. obj. pronoun, _me_) Sindarin**)**

Repeating those words, she moved through the darkness seeking for the Green Elf. Long seemed her search, yet 'twas without haste, as though time held thither no sway. _I hath stepped out from 'neath the sun, _she thought. And she recalled her night of visions long ago in the house of Iarwain Ben-adar. 

_As with all those blessed with the Life of the Eldar, she was't being bound to the world by the chains of her memories; she was't inexorably being drained, her fire sublimated by the substance of mortal lands and the passage of time. She was't diminishing…fading. Helluin recognized that her doom, the doom of all her people, 'twas to lose through gain. She had been so beautiful once, so free, and now…her failing would linger down the Ages and she would die more slowly than any mortal. She had been dying since her first breath of life. Ere Helluin felt the coming tears win their release, she gave her young self a wan smile and then stood and turned away._

_She found herself back in her seat before the hearth in the house of Iarwain Ben-adar, and looking over at his chair, her eyesight blurred by tears; Helluin saw only a hazy figure wrought of swirling light. She didn't understand._

_"Peace," she heard with her mind's ear, "sorrow for loss is the realm of my sister."_

_Again the blackness took her, but this time 'twas dreamless._

Though her body still lives and 'tis not yet her time, still a _fëa_ fled from its lodgings in the _hroa_ seeks for the sanctuary of our people in Aman, Helluin realized, in the Halls of Mandos. West…'tis to the Uttermost West that I must seek.

Through the darkness she passed in thought, o'er the waves of the Sundering Sea, 'til a Light glimmered far before her, and as if with the sight of the _palantír_, her consciousness leapt towards that curtain of silver rain. Swiftly did it grow to fill her vision, and brighter did it become, 'til 'twixt one moment and the next her sight swept through it into that far green country 'neath a swift sunrise. And now the way was't familiar to her. Century upon century she had trod these Undying Lands. Westward she sped, passing Tol Eressëa, the Lonely Isle, and thence through the Calacirya where the Holy Mountain, Taniquétal, rose to the south. O'er the green hill of Túna her eyesight flew, looking down upon the white city of Tirion with the Mindon Eldaliéva, the Tower of Ingwë, jutting upwards in its midst like a spike of pearl. All these sights of wonder Helluin passed in the blink of an eye, still moving further westward. Now Valmar, with its golden gates flashed towards her, but she passed the City of the Gods without slowing. 'Neath her lay the many empty vats which had once brimmed with gold and silver Light, but the Wells of Varda had been dry and dark for o'er two Ages of the world. Amidst them stood a sad hill crowned with the lifeless trunks of Laurelin and Telperion. 'Twas Ezellohar, carpeted still with withered grass.

Onward did Helluin's sight take her, 'cross softly rolling hills and wide plains of green that she recognized from memories now six millennia old. She had wandered these lands for 'nigh on three and one half thousand years.

And finally a darkness grew in the distance far ahead, just as the Light of Aman had grown aforetime. By this she knew she was't approaching the boundary of Ekkaia at Arda's westernmost edge. Fast was't her approach, and to Helluin it seemed as only the span of a heartbeat ere she stood before the gates of the Halls of Mandos. Thither, as if awaiting her, stood Vairë the Weaver, wife of Námo. Helluin marked that behind the Valier, the doors to the Houses of the Dead stood closed fast. 'Twas the first time she had ever seen them thus.

To the west now hung the darkness of the Void, black as a king's finest velvet and hung with Varda's countless stars. Ever had it been a vision vaguely unsettling; a peerlessly night sky, clear and deep, abutting the brilliant, day-lit landscape with 'naught for gradation 'twixt the two. Helluin knew that if one walked to the very edge, thither was't a precipice of unfathomable height, soon undercut and quick to pass out of sight. And to any such as came thither, the Void called to the mind with seductive and insistent whispers, gently urging just one more small step forward.

"_Istan man tye mére,_**¹**_" _said the Weaver without preamble_. _**¹(Istan man tye mére. **_**I know who you want. = **__**ista- **_(v., know)_**-n**_(1st pers. subj. pron., _I_) _**man**_(who) _**tye**_(2nd pers. indep. pron, _you_) _**mére**_(v., _want_) Quenya**)**

"_Masse nase?_**¹**_"_ Helluin asked, trying hard to control her impatience.**¹(Masse nase? **_**Where is she?**__**Masse**_(interrog. pron, _where_) _**na-**_(is) _**-se**_(3rd pers subj pron, _she_) Quenya**)**

"_Mintaúrye __síno__,_**¹**_" _Vairë told her while stretching one pale arm outwards and pointing due south._"Elat, mí Nienna i maro. _**²**_"_** ¹****(Mintaúrye ****síno****, **_**She did not enter here,**__**minta-**_(v. _enter_) + _**-ú**_(neg v suff, _did not enter_) _**-rye**_(3rd pers subj pron, _she_) + _**síno**_(here) Quenya**)** **²****(Elat, mí Nienna i maro.** _**(You) look thither, to the house of Nienna. **_= _**Ela**_(look there) _**-t**_(2nd pers subj pron, _you_) _**Nienna**____**i**_(def art, _the_) _**mar**_(home) _**-o**_(gen suff, _of_) Quenya**) **

With a bow of her head Helluin gave thanks to the Weaver for her tidings, and then she hastened south to the familiar abode of the Goddess of Lamentation. It had been o'er 8,700 years since the she had first met Nienna. The Noldo had been not even _yenu_**¹ **of age when, during her first wanderings in Aman, she had happened upon the house at the edge of the world. Thither she had met the solitary and nearly silent Valier, who was't staring off into the Void. Rather than blabber as most of her folk were wont to do, Helluin had simply sat next to her and stared off in the same direction. A day later she'd absently whispered to herself, _as a lover it doth urge one to itself_, remarking on the voice of the Void.** ¹****(**_**yenu**_= _**yen**_(the long year of the Eldar)_** + -u**_(dual pl suff,__2 years = 288 years of the sun) Quenya**)**

"Few art they who listen, and fewer still who hear," Nienna had replied another day later and so softly that Helluin had strained to hear her. "Tis little wonder we lament longings unmet, when such is even so from that which was't ere The Song," she had added a couple hours later.

Helluin had turned slowly to face her and asked, "'Twas ever so, indeed?"

The Valier had turned to meet her gaze with moist eyes and said, "Aye, 'twas ever so."

Helluin had found the thought and its affirmation quite depressing.

Now Helluin came again to the House of Nienna, and though it appeared at first deserted, (as it had ever appeared), 'twas thither that she did indeed find her beloved Beinvír. The tearful Green Elf was't seated upon a stone bench in the garden with the Valier, who was't consoling her in a manner that Helluin could hath sworn was't self-conscious if not outright embarrassed. At Helluin's appearance, Nienna met her eyes and graced her with an expression of relief, then cast her glance back to Beinvír and rose to her feet. Helluin hastened to join them, taking her beloved in her arms and wrapping her in a tight hug of joyous reunion.

"There you see," Nienna told the Green Elf as she excused herself, "'twas as I said, 'tis 'naught to lament, for thou art neither dead nor separated untimely."

To Helluin she said silently, mind to mind as she passed, _Heldalúne Maica i móremenel, glad am I to see thee…rejoined. Thy melda hast been inconsolable o'er 'naught, I deem, for Námo was't forbidden to admit her to his house, and so she was't not meant to stay. Very nearly did she pass from the grief when from the wound she did not. _She actually rolled her eyes ere taking her leave.

Helluin's sharp ears reported the Valier muttering to herself as she walked away, "T'would think 'twas to _Cúma_**¹** rather than into a coma she had passed, for weeping aloud…" **¹(Cúma**,_Hell_ Quenya**)**

In their few moments of speech, the Noldo had heard more words from the Valier than she had sometimes received during entire visits in the past. She could but shake her head, yet the claim that Námo had been forbidden to admit Beinvír to his halls told her much. One only in Valinor could command the Keeper of the Dead.

Helluin returned to the battlefield with Beinvír in her arms, bringing all into focus in a swift recession from her lover's eyes. Returned to the Hither Lands, Beinvír was't subdued, but the Noldo had felt her happiness while'st they communed heart to heart. Still kneeling beside them, Maglor greeted them with a broad smile.

"_Aderthad merenwain, __mildis nín!_**¹**_" _he said_._**¹(Aderthad merenwain, ****mildis nín!**_**A most joyous reunion, my **__(female)__** friends! **__**aderthad**_(reunion) + _**meren**_(joyous) + _**-wain**_(sup adj suff) + _**mildis**_(f friends, pl) + _**nín**_ (1st pers poss pro, _my_) Sindarin**)**

To this, the ellith could but smile, for both were o'ercome with relief and happiness to be together, alive, and lying amidst the carnage of a recent battle and the reek of well 'nigh four thousands of corpses; Naugrim, Men, and the carcasses of slain horses.

Some hours later, after the storm clouds had been driven hence by a wind from the south and Anor graced the new day with a fine morn, Beinvír sat listening as Maglor and Helluin each told 'aught of their tales since their last parting in the final days of the First Age. They spoke softly o'er food and drink, as the four Noldor and the Moriquendi archers who'd come with the son of Feanor piled and burnt the bodies of the Dwarves, for no tomb would these hath, so far from mountain, rock and stone. The bodies of the Riders they laid in rows 'neath their cloaks with their weapons beside them, awaiting the return of the Norse Men to the battlefield to claim their dead.

"'Twas with hopelessness and embarrassment mingled that Maedhros and I made our way to the camp of the victorious army of the West," Maglor had said, "and sent to Eönwë a message demanding the return of those two Silmarils yet remaining, citing our oath and our father's title as maker of those gems. Yet the Herald of the Elder King pronounced our claim forfeit and demanded that we submit for judgment in Aman. I would hath submitted indeed, for my heart had long been full-tired of all that had been done, yet my brother persuaded me one last time, and so in stealth we came to the treasury and slew thither the guardians and retook at last the Silmarils. Yet we escaped with them not and were captured. Death I feared would be our lot at last and strangely welcome would it hath been, as we had fulfilled our wretched oath at last, for scorching each of our hands was't indeed a Silmaril.

Unsweet was't our success to me, for by that pain I knew Eönwë had indeed spoken true; the Silmarils would'st abide our house no longer. Yet in his mercy Eönwë would not hath us slain, just though it may hath been, and he sent us forth from the camp with our ill-got treasures and our shame.

Soon the pain of the burning became too great a torment for us. At the last my brother despaired and flung himself into a chasm still aflame from the battles, bearing with him to the depths of Middle Earth his treasure. I wandered still a while, the priceless gem held in an upturned helm and dangling from a stick like a drawn squab off to market. Upon a time I came 'nigh the new coast of the sea, and thither I was't o'erwhelmed with sorrow for all that had come to pass…all for a jewel and in service of my father's rash will. I cast the cause as far out to sea as I could, to thus rid myself of the constant reminder of a treasure fair and high, fallen from beauty into loathsomeness through lust, pride, and vengeance; that treasure being my own _fëa_ and the spirit of our people, for the Silmaril was't but a cause and a symbol. In the end, 'twas worth not the taking of one life, let alone all the hundreds of thousands it cost."

Here the second son of Feanor, recalling all in perfect clarity, covered his face with his hands and sobbed. And Helluin, who had once loathed him as a mortal enemy and the killer of her brother Verinno, wrapped an arm 'round his shoulders and drew him to her side for to offer what comfort she could. She held him for a long time.

When he finally resumed, he said, "Long years I wandered, heedless of the times. Into the land of Eriador and thence to Rhovanion I made my way, alone and declaring not my name lest it recall all the dark deeds done aforetime. I partook not in the deeds of the present, being resolved to pass through time as a ghost. Wide berth I gave to battles and wars, to courts and kings, and to any whom I had known. Finally 'twas into the east that I roamed; into the lands of Rhûn, and thither I was't lost to all who knew of me. Finally I was't lost to history, for the histories of those lands counted not the deeds of Beleriand or the West. So the years passed…so an Age passed.

For a time there was't peace, yet slowly a Shadow grew upon those eastern lands and slowly did many folk fall 'neath its sway. T'would hath passed me unmarked save for a chance meeting with one who told a harrowing tale of liberation from long thralldom 'neath the Great Enemy's fortress in the land of Mordor. The knowledge of Him still working his master's evil, even after the victory of the Host of Aman, shocked me to seething. How could Sauron Gorthaur hath been left free to poison the Hither Shores after the defeat of Morgoth Bauglir? I could understand it not, any more than I could understand the mercy shown to me and my brother upon a time.

And finally I took notice of 'aught that passed about me. Tales I sought of times past, and tidings of the present, for to learn all I could, and I soon discerned that the wars I had fought were still being fought and would be fought again! No longer did lust for my father's gems or the fulfillment of a doomed oath obscure that which was't at the heart of the conflict; that struggle 'twixt good and evil that hast lingered down all the Ages.

Surely the fact that I yet walked offered the chance that I could again hath purpose, and perhaps the mercy of Eönwë be in some small measure justified and repaid at last. I dared to hope again…to live again…and I resolved to oppose Him. Slowly I met others like-minded and took counsel with them, and we began to form and train the militia of which thou hast seen a company last night."

Later, as Anor passed from zenith to afternoon, Helluin and Beinvír told somewhat of their adventures in the Hither Lands, of their forays to Númenor, and of the great wars of the western lands. And as evening fell and all their tidings had been shared, and as the Moriquendi gathered for their evening meal, some few astonished riders joined them at last, taking stock of their dead and setting a camp to await the arrival of Captain Ërlick's company.

"T'will be soon our time for parting once again," Maglor announced, "for we hath much to do in the east." He leaned then close and spoke to them in silence, mind to mind, _For 'tis no longer without guidance that we fight, nor without foresight that we came hence. An outpouring of Light they sensed, and directed us hither to its source._ At Helluin's questioning glance he explained,_ Two hath come to us of late, and these from o'er the sea for to contest with the Great Enemy who rises again. As Men of many winters they appear, yet those of us who hath come from 'cross the sea ourselves know them for what they art. Speak not of this, my friends, for they woulds't hath it so, yet take heart from the knowing of it, for 'tis as 'twas aforetime, we art not forsaken by the West!_

Then with a nod of understanding, Helluin replied in kind, for to withhold would be failing to meet trust with trust.

_Thou hast met the blue wizards Pallando and_ _Alatar,_ she silently said, _while'st we art in this land at the behest of Olórin, who is now clad in grey. Two others also there art in Eriador, brown and white. They too were known to thee upon a time. _

Beinvír added, _Hope we hath indeed in their presence upon the Hither Shores._

In response to her tidings, a broad smile graced the face of Maglor as he looked from one to the other.

"Aye, hope grows indeed, my friends! Though the days darken it grows with each day. Glad I am to hath met thee again, Helluin, and to hath met thee as well, Beinvír Laiquende. 'Twas from a meeting with thy folk long ago that the inspiration for my warriors comes. Now we must take our leave, yet I pray we meet again ere the Fading. May Eru guide and bless thee."

"Thou hast my thanks for thy timely aid, my friend. May the Valar bless thee as well," Helluin bade him in farewell.

Maglor stood and walked to where his horse was't held, and mounting, rejoined his company. Then with a raised hand, he bade his followers ride east behind his pennant. In another quarter hour the Elvish company had passed beyond sight, as if returning to whatsoever vision of ancient lore from which they had been conjured, while'st from the north, the ellith sensed the approach of many horses.

Now following the battle, the remaining North Men were bereft of lord and most of their warriors lay slain. Of those five hundreds who had ridden out to meet the Naugrim, fewer than fifty returned, some of them wounded, and none of them captains 'Twas not until the next day that Captain Ërlick himself arrived, for he had taken a leave of absence in his home village, and the cause was't of great importance. The evening ere the Elves had ridden back to King Lüdhgavia's city and burnt his hall, the good captain had ridden home and thither taken to wife Brekka, niece of the king. Their petition of this intent to Lüdhgavia had perished with all else in the firing of his majesty's hall, while'st the king's memory of the couple's betrothal had perished that night along with his sobriety. 'Twas a work of fate indeed, for the serving wench was't indeed the last of noble birth still living amongst all the Riders, and her new husband became the first king of the new line whose sons traced their descent from King Lüdhgavia's elder brother Lundhini. When the news of the slaughter was't known, the newlywed couple was't crowned king and queen of their people forthwith.

_And a good sight better lord he shalt make than_ _King Lüdhgavia_ _was't, _Helluin said silently to Beinvír.

The Green Elf nodded in agreement, _An easy act to follow, I deem. So think thou our mission the closer to completion, meldanya?_

_Of that I cannot tell, meldwain nín, though I pray 'tis so._

Yet indeed 'twas not so. Of retaining the hard-won and unceasingly defended lands of their fathers, King Ërlick and Queen Brekka were adamant. The people too were of a mind to stay in the wide grasslands 'twixt Carnen and Celduin whither their horses flourished, for what art riders without horses? In private the ellith shook their heads in frustration. How were they to fulfill the mission of Olórin save by driving hence the North Men from their homes by force? 'Twas not the wizard's intention that they do thus, they suspected. So they stayed their hands and aided the Riders as they could, mostly by their strength of arms during those early years of rebuilding, and more subtly for the enrichment of their culture as the years passed, for the Maia had set no deadline upon their mission.

Of King Ërlick and Queen Brekka came three children. The eldest and youngest were sons, with a daughter 'tween them. Popular and respected rulers they remained all the days of their lives, and their eldest ruled after them when their lives reached their end. Ere those days failed, they saw their people returned in numbers to their prewar count. Flocks and herds increased as well. The kingdom grew in grandeur and power for many generations hence, and the North Men lived in Rhovanion still in T.A. 1255, when Vinitharya was't born of Valacar, the twentieth King of Gondor, who had taken to wife Princess Vidumavi, daughter of King Vidugavia. Vinitharya took his father's throne as Eldacar in T.A. 1432, the twenty-first King of Gondor, following civil war and the suppression of Castimir the Usurper, of which much lore tells.

For Helluin and Beinvír, the grasslands of Rhovanion remained home throughout the reign of King Ërlick and Queen Brekka, and they were held in high esteem while'st the years passed.

In the winter shortly following the passing of Queen Brekka, as T.A. 1055 was't ending, the king called the ellith to council and met with them alone in his chamber after the evening meal. No longer did they approach unmarked and unheeded. Sober guards hailed them at the gate of the city and at the doors of the hall, and they were accompanied hence to the king's chambers whither they were announced to the lord of the realm. Rather than passed out at table, the king sat at a plain desk of wood contemplating a map of his lands. At his hand stood a gilt goblet of ale, still 'nigh full. King Ërlick welcomed his friends with gracious words and bid them seat themselves facing him 'cross the desk. Somewhat stooped now with the years, his hair and beard pure white, he projected that regality so absent in his predecessor.

"Many years hath passed since first I met thee upon the trail west of the great forest, Helluin," he said, "and from the first thou aided me and my people. With honor thou had laid to rest the king's heir, Lundhini, 'nigh Dól Gúldúr, and thou gave me directions thither such that I easily found his cairn."

He turned to the Green Elf and offered her a smile.

"With thy skill and thy bow thou saved the life of my beloved wife and queen ere ever I met thee, and thou hast had my heartfelt thanks upon every day since."

For a time the three sat remembering that fateful day so long ago.

"Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, fifty-three winters hath come and gone since I met thee again in the great hall of Lüdhgavia," King Ërlick finally said, "and oft I hath recalled thy words to me and my queen upon that night." After a pause he recited, "_Many kingdoms I hath seen rise and fall, of Men and Elves and Dwarves. Yet one thread passes from Age to Age, and that is the struggle 'twixt good and evil. In every land it hath birthed the lore of times past and lays the path of time to come, for it guides the deeds of those who live through those times. So 'tis the part of each to do 'aught as they can to better the days they see, to provide for those who come after, and to cherish the good deeds done aforetime that they not be forgotten and their lessons needs be learnt again. 'Tis the same for all good folk upon these Mortal Shores. 'Twas even so upon the Deathless Shores far 'cross the Sea._"

In the king's aged eyes the two ellith saw unshed tears that made his eyes shine in the lamplight, and upon his lined face a look of wonder that they perceived had long abode in his heart.

"No one had ever spoken thus to me," he said. "'Twas as if at thy words a veil had been drawn back, revealing thence a nobility of spirit and purpose I had n'er known. Thither hung before my mind's eye a dream of things greater…and perchance of things to come. That thou, of such long years and unrivaled prowess could take, as thy guidance in life, so simple a truth was't a revelation to me. 'Twas so to my Queen Brekka as well."

Again the old king paused, collecting his thoughts and choosing his words.

"'Twas not that good and ill were ideas unknown aforetime, for ever had we fought against those who sought to do us ill. But ever were we within that moment of struggle, hot with our passions. Vengeance and the need to survive drove us. N'er had I thought our fight but a part of that which passes from Age to Age; that whole which makes up the way of things, yet having seen with thy vision I hath cloven to this belief, so to guide my actions all the days of my reign. For the sake of my people I hath striven to leave better than I found, and to do my part to tip somewhat that balance of good and evil that I shalt soon pass on to my sons and daughter and our people of their generation. I hath set thy vision in the minds of my children and hope that they shalt do likewise in their time."

King Ërlick looked closely at his two guests, comparing what he saw with what he had once seen 'nigh on a lifetime ago.

"Thou art unchanged to my eyes, while'st I am grown old," he said at last, "and all the years of my reign art but the blink of an eye to thee of the Eldar race. And yet, 'tis a lifetime well full to me that I shalt soon lay down. Before that day comes, I wanted to be sure thou heard from my own lips my deepest thanks, for thy aid and gifts to me, and to my people."

_Mayhaps we hath failed of the mission Mithrandir set before us_, Helluin thought, _and yet our mission hither 'tis not wholly a failure, for the North Men hath learnt self respect._

"Short indeed the time may seem to us, O King," Helluin said softly, "and yet seldom hath so much been set to rights in one lifetime, for I recall well the kingdom as 'twas in Lüdhgavia's day. Thou hast uplifted thy people and much more strongly now shalt they stand, in both peace and war. This thou hast done…thou and thy queen…and if 'tis our place to feel 'aught about thy life's work, then 'tis pride and joy we feel for thy accomplishments, my friend."

"'Til thy reign ends and thou hath passed from Arda, we shalt remain in thy lands to be at thy service, King Ërlick," Beinvír said.

The old king breathed a sigh, as of relief, and smiled. _Brekka, my love, we hath lived a good life._

Yet when the king's life finally came to its end, the soulmates bid the North Men farewell for that time and returned west to Eriador in hopes of obtaining further counsel from Mithrandir. 'Twas then T.A. 1057, for King Ërlick had lived to the age of 77 and was't king for 54 of them.

**To Be Continued**

10


	107. In An Age Before Chapter 107

**Chapter 107**

**Chapter Sixty-eight**

_**Rhovanion – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now at the end of Lothron (May) T.A. 1057 the two ellith came o're the Hithaeglir by the High Pass which leads down to Rivendell, and thither they repaired for several days, holding counsel with Elrond for to hear the tidings of the western lands. Good company they shared too with Lady Celebrían, the twain Elladan and Elrohir, and young Arwen, now 816 years of age. They spoke also with their old friend Glorfindel, and with Elrond's counselors, Erestor and Gildor Inglorion.

In T.A. 1029 Mallor had taken the throne of Arthedain as its third king. In T.A. 1015, Ciryaher, became the fifteenth King of Gondor, following the death of his father, King Ciryandil, in the siege of Umbar. In T.A. 1050 King Ciryaher had broken that siege and subjugated the Haradrim, taking thence the title Hyarmendicil I, signifying _South Victor_.

Yet when all their lore was't shared and all their tales told, they had learnt 'naught of the whereabouts of Mithrandir. In fact, of Eriador little tidings did they hear, save that some of the Periannath had settled thither, mostly east of Weathertop about the Great East Road. These folk called themselves Harfoots, lived in burrows, farmed quietly, and kept to themselves. Indeed the Men of all three North Kingdoms had marked them not at first, clustered as they were about the confluence of their borders, and when indeed these subjects were reported to the lords of those lands, their homesteads and fields were already established. In that time the kings of Arthedain, Rhudaur, and Cardolan gave them leave to settle and then ignored them afterwards. They had no riches, seemed to have no real ambitions, and appeared useless as warriors. As for taxing their crops, 'twas pointless, for one family of Men could farm three to five times the land tilled by a family of Hobbits.

So 'twas that after a week in the Hidden Valley, the two elleth found themselves upon the Great East Road, making their way west into Eriador. The Ford of Bruinen they crossed, and passing thence 'twixt Rhudaur and The Angle, came three days later to the bridge o'er the Hoarwell, as Men called it, which was't to the Elves, the Mitheithel.

"When last we saw him, 'twas to the west and 'nigh Baranduin," Beinvír observed that afternoon, "and off this road, I wager, our chances shalt increase."

Helluin said 'naught for some moments, weighing the value of seeking for the _Istar_ in those locales in which they'd last met him…54 years aforetime.

"He could be anywhere," she finally replied. "Indeed 'twas to Lindon and the Havens that I had thought to go, for to ask of Círdan after his whereabouts…unless upon some of thy folk we should chance"

Upon that thought did the green Elf concentrate for a moment, and then her face brightened with something remembered.

"The day Mithrandir sought our aid, he intended also to request 'aught of Tórferedir and Dálindir as well," she said, and to Helluin's questioning look she added, "'twas to protect the Periannath who would come to Eriador that he wished to enlist my people."

"…and those art now 'nigh to hand," Helluin said to complete the thought as a wry grin grew upon her face. "So we art to hunt the new-come wee mole-folk in hopes of finding the Laiquendi and thence Mithrandir, for to report the failure of our mission. I can imagine nothing I shalt enjoy more. At least t'will make for a shorter walk, I wager."

They turned then their steps from the road, making their way north into the country east of the Weather Hills. Thither they sought not for the actual burrows of the Harfoots, but rather for evidence of their tillage. This they eventually came upon; small fields of a few acres, close furrowed, with many kinds of crops already in fair growth, for 'twas now mid-Nórui (June).

"As farmer folk they seem successful enough," Helluin remarked after examining a few carrots, onions, and potatoes. Though small in acreage, the yield from this Periannath's field would be high as 'twas, (by comparison to the fields of Men), well 'nigh fussy in its planting and weeding. Somewhat undersized plants of impeccable quality grew in closely ordered ranks and files. All in all 'twas evidence of loving attention and extensive practical knowledge of the agrarian way of life. For a moment the Noldo wondered if she'd see milk cows the size of large dogs.

"Company comes," Beinvír announced with a shift of her eye to her left.

A moment's concentration from Helluin confirmed the approach of another.

"Ho there," a slightly high-pitched voice called out in the Common Tongue from nearby shortly later, "don't be botherin' me crops, I say."

The ellith turned to the voice and were met with the sight of a barefoot Perian in rough trousers and shirt, hastening towards them in an agitated state. He came up to them huffing and puffing, and they marked his somewhat advanced age, ruddy complexion, and corpulence. No lack of food hast this one suffered of late, they observed…nor hast he any estimation of the potential danger he hast charged in to.

_Short-lived this short one shalt be if he makes a habit of confronting thus armed strangers, _Helluin remarked to Beinvír silently with a quick glance into her eyes.

_Blessed with a farmer's wisdom of the land and ignorance of 'aught else he is, I deem, _the Green Elf replied. _Still, we shan't be murdering him this day o'er a carrot._

_Nay, we shalt not…this day._

"A pause, I beseech thee, good farmer," Helluin said to the Perian, "we hath no designs upon thy crops, I assure thee."

The Perian had come to stand before them, hands on hips and a stern expression upon his face. The Noldo's courtly speech had given him pause indeed, for he had expected the guilt of a thief caught red-handed, or the begging of a hungry vagrant. This new land he had come to but a few years aforetime held strange folk and 'twas not the first time he'd found such wandering his fields. The fact that little ever went missing he chalked up to good fortune and his own vigilance. Now he marked that these were Elvish folk and wanderers too if their attire told their tale.

"Elves ye be," he said, nodding to agree with himself. "Just as well then, I say. I had thought ye be highwaymen or criminals when I first saw ye. I seldom see Elves."

_Many a highwayman he hath seen hither, no doubt, _Helluin said silently to Beinvír in a glance.

"Have ye seen any other Elves than us of late?" Beinvír asked.

"Ahhh, lost ye friends have ye?" The farmer asked seriously. He paused a moment to recollect, actually scratching his head to prompt his memory. "Well then, I last saw some other Elves three days ago, sneaking through the hedgerow yonder," he said triumphantly while'st pointing to a place some 30 yards away. Sure enough, a narrow gap 'twixt adjacent plants could just be seen.

"Thank thee kindly, good farmer," Helluin answered. "We'll seek for them that way."

After she and Beinvír had moved several paces towards the hedgerow, the farmer bade them, "Good luck in finding ye friends."

Then he turned to walk back to his home and the quick glance he cast o'er his shoulder a few strides later showed that the Elves must hath made their way already through the hedge, for 'twas no sign of them. He didn't see the two ellith following in stealth.

"So, 'tis the town of the Periannath," Helluin said, "and it could go long unmarked."

"Aye, 'tis little enough to be seen," the Green Elf agreed as she gazed toward the series of rough plank doors set into a steep bank just ahead. The bank was't well shaded by shrubbery and a few low trees downslope so as to be semi-hidden; very likely to be bypassed by the casual observer. 'Naught but a few small prints were to be seen upon the well-packed earth of the trail nearby, and all was't far off any beaten track.

Beinvír took in the surrounding land with a long-practiced eye.

"Were I to keep watch upon thither settlement, I should do so from yonder copse, for I wager 'tis a stream close by downslope, and t'would be easy to come and go unmarked amongst the bordering rushes."

Helluin nodded in agreement with her lover's conclusions. Who but a Laiquendi could better seek for other Laiquendi? Yet she knew that if 'aught of that folk were nearby, then already they would hath marked her and her beloved. Indeed t'would be the only reason they would find any such watchers, if they wanted to be found.

"Come then, let us return to the hedgerow and make our way thence down the creek to thither copse," said the Noldo, for to approach the Green Elves directly would only give away their position and ensure that they found none, nor any signs of them.

Now some time later the ellith did indeed find the three Laiquendi who had watched them from the very copse that Beinvír had marked earlier. 'Twas a comfortable vantage from which to espy any coming or going 'twixt the row of burrows and the fields. To date they had seen a total of seventeen Periannath.

"Four holes there art thither," reported an ellon named _Calengolv_**¹ **while'st pointing them out, "each with a back door hidden upon the far side of the slope. Thither art another six such homes o'er which another company keeps watch. The folk do little save come and go from their fields. They hath few livestock as yet, seldom do they hunt or travel to market. Indeed they art dull to watch, and whyfore our king hath commanded us to do so, I hath no idea." **¹**(**Calengolv**, _Greenbranch_, Sindarin)

From the report, Helluin and Beinvír could but nod in agreement. The few Periannath they had met pretty much bore out the watcher's description. The two other members of the detail were staring off into space, obviously resting their minds upon memories infinitely more engaging.

"How long hath thou been employed thus?" Beinvír asked.

"Indeed we hath been hither but a fortnight," Calengolv sighed, "and hath a season's duty ahead. The full summer we shalt pass saddled with this watch, and ere Cerveth's ending we shalt long for 'aught to distract us. Even a tragedy should be welcome." He cast a longing glance to the bows and quivers leaning against the nearest trunk.

"How many Periannath in total think thou hast come to hither lands?" Helluin asked.

"By the latest count we reckon there art some six hundreds and three score in this precinct of Cardolan, running some score leagues east from Weathertop. They art thin spread for now and their migration hast stilled, near as any can tell. We deem that all came in the year 1050, o'er a span of six to eight months."

The Noldo nodded, accepting the information.

"'Tis one thing further still," Calengolv said, and at the Noldo's glance he added, "these Periannath seem to breed as do rats and rabbits. Each spring for the past seven years we hath seen new broods in spring. Cardolan shalt be o'errun in a century, I wager."

Now while'st Calengolv and his fellow ellyn could point them not to Mithrandir, they had some guess as to the whereabouts of their king.

'Twas his intent to pass the month of Nórui 'nigh the precincts of central Eriador whereat in S.A. 1261 Helluin had first met him…and Beinvír. Thither, east of the Baranduin and north of Sarn Athrad, lay the Old Forest, 'twixt the river, the South Downs, and the ancient Barrow Downs. Both ellith recalled the night of their meeting, and of their stay in the strange house of Iarwain Ben-adar at the edge of the downs. 'Twas with no slight misgivings that they made their way thither.

The third week of Nórui was't 'nigh done when they came again to that glade in which Helluin had first met Dálindir and his company in Eriador. The day was't much akin to that day long aforetime, with warm yellow sunlight filtering through a green canopy of gently fluttering leaves. Helluin and Beinvír seated themselves, with their backs against the now massive and ancient girth of the very same willow upon the bank of the placid Withywindle, whither Helluin had sat upon the 23rd of Ivanneth, (September 23rd), S.A. 1261. Dragonflies and butterflies, perhaps the descendants of those who had flown upon that far gone day, went about their business tracing colorful and iridescent patterns in the air o'er a stand of iris and growing cattails 'nigh the sodden margin of the bank.

From her travel bag the Green Elf brought forth a simple flute, and she set to playing a slow and tranquil tune for to compliment the laziness of the afternoon. Helluin whistled an absentminded accompaniment while'st searching carefully the woods beyond the further bank. 'Twas thither that she had first seen Dálindir appear, and though 'twas now some 3,235 years later, the memory of that day and the feel of the one at hand had such kinship that to Helluin 'twas a small stretch to imagine him come again just as he had aforetime…_for 'tis not a theme repeated a mechanism at the heart of The Song?_ With such expectations, she spent some time each day at gathering and hunting.

So indeed it was't that upon an even more similar afternoon, and that being the very last day of Nórui, when the ellith had been waiting thither but a week, that Dálindir did indeed appear, and with him his companions Gérorn, and Celegaras.

"Well met, my friends of old," the King of the Laiquendi said in greeting while'st hiding well his surprise at seeing them, "'tis a joy to find thee hither, so…unexpected."

At his words, Gérorn, the big coppery-haired ellon laughed loud and added, "'tis the understatement of the Age I am sure, for I feel history repeating itself. Alas we hath no strange host awaiting us with dinner this day."

"Alas my ass," Celegaras muttered. "As a good omen shalt I take it that on this day Beinvír comes hither with Helluin rather than with us, and so history repeats itself not so precisely as to presage our disappearance for another few ennin."

"Upon this night I hope 'tis with us thou shalt sup," Beinvír told her old friends, "for hither we hath camped a week in hopes of finding thee."

"Or of thee finding us," Helluin added, glad to forestall any possibility of Dálindir and his company spending another 1,733 years trapped in the house of Iarwain Ben-adar.

Now that night they shared good company and good fare, and many were the accounts of their wanderings they told. Dálindir spoke of the coming of the Periannath, whose appearance his people had marked but a few years before.

"'Twas as if the wee folk came hither and dug in o'er night, for 'twixt one day and the next it seemed, a bank here or a hillside there sported suddenly a small round door. How they excavated and so quickly tunneled to make their burrows became a point of astonishment," he said, shaking his head, for the wonder of it was't still upon him. "All 'round the precincts of the East Road 'nigh Weathertop, my folk contested one with another for to be first to mark another settlement. Thence in short order appeared fields and hedgerows, fences and such other structures as that folk contrived."

At the looks of wonder upon the faces of the two ellith, Celegaras added, "Fine farmers they art with a good sense for growing things, yet few crops hath they grown so fast as their own farmsteads."

"Indeed 'tis just so," said the king, and then with a grimace he added, "and thereafter they art wholly boring. Those who watch o'er them shalt soon take up the sleep of mortals, for the activities of these Periannath art so bland and predictable as to be mind-numbing."

"Aye, this service we hath undertaken at Mithrandir's request is one of grievous toil and hardship," claimed Gérorn while'st suppressing a smile. "Rather would I watch the growth of their crops than their own comings and goings, for of the kelvar I expect more, while'st of the olvar I expect 'naught."

To this, Helluin and Beinvír nodded in understanding. The complaints of the sentries they had met aforetime rang true. For a moment they traded in thought, eye to eye.

_Indeed I hath aforetime met such of the olvar as behaved unexpectedly, _noted the Noldo, recalling her meeting with the Entwives on the eastern slopes of the Ered Wethrin, in Woods of Núath long before.

_As hath I, meldanya, _replied the green Elf, recalling the vexatious behavior of the roots, (not to mention the kelvar: earthworms, millipedes and spiders), of Calenglad i'Dhaer, a questionable welcome foisted upon her and her fellow travelers by the humor of Oldbark, Lord of the Onodrim.

"Thou spoke of Mithrandir," Helluin said to Gérorn, "and we seek him for to hath his counsel regarding the Men of Rhovanion. Know thou 'aught of his whereabouts?"

To this the big ellon shrugged. Neither Celegaras nor Dálindir could add anything more. Mithrandir was't free to come and go as he pleased so far as they were concerned.

"Whither and whence did thou see him last?" asked Beinvír.

After a few moments' thought, Dálindir offered with certainty, "'Twas 'nigh Sarn-Athrad upon Baranduin, some 12 years past."

After a few more moments, Celegaras nodded in agreement and said, "That too is my recollection," and after a further moment's pause, he added, "'twas in the rain."

To this Helluin groaned and Beinvír shook her head.

"Surely some hath seen him since then," the Green Elf reasoned. The Istar couldn't hath disappeared completely from the eyes of her people.

"I am sure some hath," Gérorn agreed, "but we hath heard 'naught of it, for we hath had no reason to ask. I am also sure that many would choose not to meet him lest they find themselves watching o'er crop plants, rocks or the weather at his behest."

Celegaras chuckled and Dálindir suppressed a grin, both imagining their fellow Laiquendi hiding themselves from the Wizard. Helluin threw up her hands and Beinvír shook her head. It seemed their quest had found a dead end.

Now after several days sharing company, the groups went their separate ways to wander for a time and to meet again upon some future day.

"Should thou see him, pray tell Mithrandir we seek him," Helluin asked at their parting.

Dálindir nodded his head in agreement to her request ere disappearing into the woods with Celegaras and Gérorn.

"And so having done 'aught that we could, I deem we art now free to do as we like," Beinvír reasoned.

"I agree," Helluin replied, "and after 55 years I find myself thankful to hath the drunken North Men and their failed migration off my mind at last."

**To Be Continued**

6


	108. In An Age Before Chapter 108

**Chapter 108**

**Chapter Sixty-nine**

_**Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now 'twas for many years that Helluin and Beinvír went about their own business in Eriador, having 'naught to do with the counsels of the Wise, yet upon a time a familiar ellon upon yet another in a seemingly inexhaustible line of white horses found them camping upon the Far Downs 'nigh the Great East Road. As aforetime he came clad in shining armor only partially hidden neath his cloak, with a pennant bearing the device of Imladris flying o're his steed and a second mount in tow. Long he had sought the two ellith, and yet not for so long as when he had found them in Lindon with the Lord Cirdan, for this time, he had called upon the aid of the Laiquendi by announcing his errand aloud as he rode through every wood he could find. Knowing the stealth of that kindred he was't hardly surprised one morning to find a note attached to the staff of his pennant, telling him to seek the two soulmates, "_…north of the road wither the land drops looking towards the Emyn Beraid_." The staff had been planted in the ground but a fathom from his head where he'd taken his rest, and as expected, he had seen none.

"_Mae govannen, mellyn nín, Helluin a Beinvír,"_**¹** he said in greeting, _"non meren lín rádiel."_**² ¹**(**Mae govannen,** **mellyn** **nín**, **Helluin a Beinvír,** _ver, trans. __**Greetings, my friends, Helluin and Beinvír, **_Sindarin) **²**(**non meren lín rádiel, **_ver, trans. __**I'm glad to have found you, **_Sindarin)

"_Mae govannen, Elladan, noannem cin dárthiel,"_**³ **Beinvír replied with a smile of welcome.** ³**(**Mae govannen, Elladan, noannem cin dárthiel. **_ver. trans. __**Greetings, Elladan, we've been awaiting you.**_ Sindarin)

"_Darthathoch ben garech baur lagas?"_**¹**Helluin asked innocently, wondering for how many months Elrond's son had sought them. **¹**(**Darthathoch ben garech lagas? **_**Will you stay or have you a need of haste? **_Sindarin)

Indeed Elladan would hath enjoyed nothing more than to pass a season or two accompanying the two ellith about the land, for Helluin he had come to idolize after a fashion and Beinvír still held his heart. Yet his duty as his father's messenger precluded such a desirable holiday and with regret he conveyed his message.

"Alas, I must decline thy generous invitation, Helluin, for my father seeks thy counsel in Imladris as soon as may be. He feels great evil now threatens the north and that the Dúnedain of Eriador stand in jeopardy." 'Twas 1 Ivanneth, (September 1st), T.A. 1356. With a sigh he concluded his rede with the expected, " I am to lead thee hence."

'Twas with regret that Helluin and Beinvír broke their camp, and mounting the horse Elladan had brought, followed the son of Elrond east. For a fortnight they rode at ease, 'nigh on 93 leagues through Arthedain upon the Great East Road to Weathertop. They passed o'er Baranduin and held their course at the crossing with the North Road that led to Fornost. Shortly thereafter they came to the dike and hedge that arched outwards from Bree Hill where stood the town of Bree upon its western face. This ancient settlement of Men had, for the past 56 years, hosted upon its upper slopes some of the Periannath, (though more lived in the village of Staddle 'round the east side of the hill). The trio tarried not, but passed out the town's south gate and continued to follow the East Road, taking their way south of the Chetwood and the Midgewater Marshes. Yet finally, upon reaching Amon Sûl, Elladan halted them and gave them warning.

"Henceforth to Mitheithel we ride the border 'twixt Cardolan and Rhudaur," he said, "and of late hast there been armed strife 'tween them. Once 'cross the Last Bridge and through the Angle to Bruinen we ride in the land of Rhudaur without friends to the south. Be ye ware, for that land 'tis now 'neath the dominion of Hillmen. They hath no love of us, yet their chief hatred is for the Dúnedain. So far they hath neither assailed, nor tried to stay our people in their travels. I do not wish us to be the first."

"Of these things we hath some knowledge," Beinvír told the son of Elrond, "for my folk hath marked the flight of the Periannath both east and west from the Angle some years past."

Elladan nodded, and then with a look to each elleth, spoke a few words to his horse and they went forward at a trot. In the land of Rhudaur they met but few upon the road. These were Hillmen, simple herders mostly, who paid them little heed or gave them sullen looks, but no worse. They saw 'naught of the Dúnedain. 'Twas in the morning of their fifth day out from Weathertop that they crossed the Ford of Bruinen and passed the sentries of the Hidden Valley.

Straightaway they were ushered into the study of Elrond, unchanged to their eyes since their last visit in T.A. 1057. The Lord of the Hidden Valley appeared grim, but he rose to greet his guests and offer refreshments.

"Well met, my friends, "the Peredhel said, "I am glad that my son hast found you. I hath dark tidings and wish your counsel."

The two ellith nodded and gave him their attention.

"I shalt first speak of Gondor," Elrond said, "for they hath of late celebrated the coronation of Minalcar son of Calmacil as their nineteenth king. He hast taken the crown asRómendacil II. The succession was't…strange. King Narmacil I, who ruled 'til 1294, was't a Man whose heart was't given to leisure, as was't that of his father Alcarin Atanatar II before him. So too was't his brother Calmacil, a Man of little enterprise. I should say that King Narmacil's greatest and perhaps only act of wisdom was't to make his nephew Minalcar his regent. This he did in T.A. 1240, and though his brother Calmacil ruled after him, for a scant ten years, I might add, 'twas ever the Regent Minalcar who wielded the power."

Across the desk from him, Helluin shook her head in disappointment and Beinvír sighed.

_In both north and south do the sons of Númenor flounder upon the Hither Shores as their isles floundered upon Belegaer aforetime, _the Green Elf observed silently as she looked into her lover's eyes.

_And as aforetime, that floundering takes hold from the top down, _Helluin replied.

As if he'd been party to their conclusions, Elrond resumed, saying, "Unlike the failing wisdom of the Kings of Númenor from Tar-Atanamir to Ar-Pharazôn, Minalcar is a Man of strong character and leadership. In 1248 he led an army of Gondor north. Thither he defeated and destroyed the holdings of the Easterlings even east of the Sea of Rhûn."

"Hence the name, Rómendacil…East-Victor," Helluin observed.

"'Tis just so," Elrond agreed. "Too, he hast strengthened the alliance 'twixt Gondor and the North Men, sending hence his own son, Valacar to the court of King Vidugavia, Lord of Rhovanion."

The Peredhel eyed the two ellith 'cross his desk with a grin ere adding, "King Vidugavia's father of five generations past was't none other than thy old friend, King Ërlick."

"'Tis good tidings," the Green Elf said with a smile.

Helluin nodded in agreement, relieved to hear that the peoples whose near-demise she'd wrought in their war against the Dwarves of the Emyn Angren had survived.

"They hath more than survived, Helluin," Elrond said, seemingly answering her thought, "indeed they hath become stanch allies of the South Kingdom of late, proving themselves trustworthy in battle, as some of their cousins hath not."

_T'would seem Mithrandir's foresight and trust is well placed, meldanya,_ the Noldo said silently to Beinvír eye to eye, _and that our host is irritatingly able to perceive 'aught of our thoughts, curse his Ring. Joy he finds with such ease, I wager._

The Lord of Imladris chuckled.

"On to tidings of the north," he said, "and little joy hath I found thither."

To this, Helluin groaned and Beinvír rolled her eyes.

"This summer past, Argeleb of Arthedain fell in battle with Rhudaur, and his son Arveleg now reigns. I know not how much is known amongst the Laiquendi of the state of the Dúnedain," he said, canting his head to Beinvír, "but perhaps thy folk hath noted Arthedain's fortification of the Weather Hills, and thou surely saw 'aught of the realm of Rhudaur on thy journey hither."

"'Tis known that land hast fallen 'neath the rule of Hillmen, and there hath been battle 'twixt them and the Dúnedain," the Green Elf said, "and upon our way hither we saw 'naught of the Dúnedain in Rhudaur."

"Some years past," Elrond continued, "in the reign of Malvegil, 'twas learnt that amongst the houses of Rhudaur and Cardolan, no heir of Isildur survived. In those realms the line had failed, and so when Argeleb took the throne, he used the _Ar-_ prefix derived from _Aran_**¹ **inhis name and claimed lordship o'er all the lands that were Arnor of old. Needless to say, neither Cardolan nor Rhudaur hath honored his claim." **¹****(**_**aran**_, **king** Sindarin…this is the explanation given by Robert Foster in his "Complete Guide to Middle Earth" for the source of the _Ar-_ prefixes in the names of the later kings of Arthedain and the Chieftains of the Dúnedain, rather than the old Númenórean prefix _Ar-_ or _Tar-_, which were titles of royal ascension and always separated from the name by a hyphen. Further, the name _**Argeleb**_ translates as _**Silver King**_ in Sindarin: _celeb_(silver) with consonant mutation typical of proper nouns yields _–geleb_, hence _Argeleb_. Similarly, _**Arvedui**_ translates as _**Last King**_, which he was_:_ _Ar_ + _medui_(last) with consonant mutation, _-vedui _The alternate contraction of _Aran _in proper names is the familiar_ Ara-_, hence, _**Aragorn**_**, **_**Impetuous King**_: _Ara_- + _gorn_(impetuous) which undergoes no consonant mutation. _**Arathorn, Stiff or Rough King**_: _Ara- _+ _-dorn(_stiff, rough) with consonant mutation _–thorn_. Also, Tolkien states in Appendix A , pg 1016 of LotR that, "In the days of Argeleb son of Malvegil, since no descendants of Isildur remained in the other kingdoms…" Argeleb being the first king of Arthedain to use the Ar- prefix in his name, it is suspect that either Argeleb was not his given name, _or_ that the end of Isildur's line in Cardolan and Rhudaur was known by Malvegil ere his son's birth, and the father named his son Argeleb in anticipation of reclaiming all Arnor. This latter logic seems unlikely. However, subsequent Kings of Arthedain and Chieftains of the Dúnedain had given names from birth including the prefix Ar- or Ara-.**)**

Helluin nodded in understanding. Once broken, the kingdom of Arnor would likely not be repaired save by force, and though both Arthedain and Cardolan now stood at odds with Rhudaur more so than each other, most oft did possession decided the rule of lands rather than the history of lineages.

"What may not be widely known is that Rhudaur is now a puppet realm," Elrond revealed, "in league with and subject to the o'erlordship of Angmar. This was't revealed at the fall of Argeleb in Cerveth, (July), for amongst the Hillmen foe were _Yrch_, and these hailed from further north. I now believe that 'twas Angmar's hand that guided the Hillmen all along, from ere the day they seized the lordship of Rhudaur."

Helluin and Beinvír looked at the Lord of Imladris with surprise. The Laiquendi had regarded the disputes 'twixt the Dúnedain as little more than land squabbles driven by pride, for the rule of small tracts of land was't of little concern to them so long as they could wander whither they will. Because no mortal Man could even see, much less stay a Green Elf who did not wish to be seen, they had abstained from involving themselves. 'Twas simply not their concern, and what little they had heard of Angmar amounted to 'naught but rumors from beyond the borders of Eriador. And so they had given such battles as they'd learnt of a wide berth, much as a sane Man would avoid a dog fight in a neighbor's yard. Thus, they had not encountered the _Yrch_, whom they would hath shot at first sight and on principle.

"'Tis the Weather Hills which shalt be contested next," Elrond said, "that being the frontier of Arthedain. Having taken Rhudaur, Angmar seeks to expand further its influence, and in doing so, further the destruction of the North Kingdom."

"Taking the Weather Hills would give Angmar both a conquest and a buffer upon their frontier, for they would then hold high ground upon Arthedain's eastern border and control the East Road…and they would be in good position to assail Amon Sûl," Helluin said, reading the strategic importance of such a campaign. Yet she had some doubts.

"Aye," Elrond agreed, "and though I know not as yet for sure who rules in Angmar, the list of those who can wield dominion o'er both the _Yrch_ and the Hillmen is short. Evil I sense in the north, and it acts in concert with the evil in the east, for the greater goals art the same…the downfall of the Dúnedain."

For several moments the three sat silent as Helluin and Beinvír digested the Lord Elrond's tidings. Little doubt had the Noldo as to who had ordered the attack.

"The Great Enemy sees an opportunity in the disunity of the Dúnedain of the north_,_"Helluin said, "and he presses the advantage with good timing. 'Tis one of his Nazgûl who rules in Angmar, I wager."

"One of the three kingdoms hast already fallen," Beinvír noted, "and mayhaps Sauron saw in the failing of Elendil's line in Rhudaur and Cardolan some sign that the time to assail them had come…the more so while'st Gondor is strong."

"The timing would suggest 'twas just so," Helluin agreed. "Perhaps the Weather Hills shalt indeed be the next land assailed, but for now t'will be a tactic only…the real objective being Amon Sûl, its palantír, and the realm of Cardolan which is comparatively weak."

"Aye," the Green Elf said, "and with Cardolan fallen, the enemy shalt hath isolated western Eriador and could thereafter turn to Arthedain while'st blocking the land routes of aid from Gondor."

"And I should not be surprised if he deigned to assail Imladris ere attacking Cardolan," Helluin added, "for the Enemy shalt not hath forgotten those who dwell hither, nor such aid as once came against his host of old. Nay, he shalt not suffer such foes unfought at his back."

"T'would close the High Pass," Beinvír agreed, "and he could then occupy Eregion, for few now live in that land."

"Should Angmar take Hollin, t'would close the Redhorn Pass o'er Caradhras and the West Gate of Khazad-dûm as well. He could then threaten the entire eastern frontier of Cardolan, drawing off defenders from the north. 'Tis how I would prosecute the campaign," Helluin said, "and I would do so as soon as may be, ere my purposes were guessed and aid could come…indeed ere this year's campaigning season ends, if possible."

'Cross his desk, the Peredhel regarded them with a grim expression and then reclined in his chair to cast his gaze at the ceiling. Given some information and a moment's pause, they had confirmed his suspicions. Only the order of the assaults had given him pause; Helluin saw no question of assailing Imladris first and Cardolan second, and on her timetable the assault would come soon. He shook his head…'twas already 20 Ivanneth, (September 20th) and the year had grown late for warring.

"My Lord Elrond, we must take our leave," Helluin said, "for knowing now 'aught of the danger to come, there art those in Eriador we must warn."

The Peredhel looked to the dark Noldo. Beside her, the Green Elf was nodding in agreement.

"I understand, my friends," Elrond said, though he had hoped to hath their aid, and to Beinvír, "warn thy people that war is soon to come again to their lands."

Five days later, and just southeast of the Bruinen in what had once been the northern-most marches of Eregion, (and therefore not within the borders of Rhudaur), four sat around a trench fire holding counsel and speaking softly in the manner of the Laiquendi. In the darkness past the glow of the embers another dozen kept watch, though no hint of them could be seen.

"'Twas reported three days past that irregular companies of Hillmen numbering some two and one half thousands art now marching east, using tracks to the north of the road," Tórferedir's lieutenant, Gwilolrán, said.

"They seek to remain unmarked," Helluin noted with a nod.

"Worse, scouts marked parties of _Yrch_, perhaps a thousand total, descending from the Hithaeglir north of the High Pass," the General of the Laiquendi said. "An assault upon Imladris indeed seems likely as soon as month's end."

'Twas 25 Ivanneth, (September 25th).

"Five days…will we be ready?" Beinvír asked.

"We will be ready," Tórferedir grimly replied, "and the more who come, the quicker the enemy will fall, but fear not. They will fall, whether in a day, or a week, or a year."

The old general then glanced 'cross the fire at Helluin, silently brooding in her dark armor as she inspected her sword. _She worries and rightly so, for Imladris can muster barely five hundred warriors, _he thought.

"Truth be told, I knew not what to think at first when I heard that flaming arrows were seen arcing west from here five nights past." The barest hint of a grin shaped his lips. "Long it hast been since thou marked our alarm signal ere the army massed for our battle in Lindon."

It had been 'nigh on 2,800 years since the War of the Elves and Sauron.

"I could only hope there were some at hand to mark it," the dark Noldo replied, "and very glad am I that there were."

"Since Argeleb's fall our scouts hath kept a watch upon the borders of Rhudaur," Tórferedir told her, "and one of them passed the signal on thinking it from another further afield. We came at once, but now word hast been sent for more to join us three days hence."

"So while the enemy seeks to attack by surprise, they themselves shalt be taken in ambush," Gwilolrán said.

In the sixth hour past noon on 28 Ivanneth, Tórferedir stood and spoke, seemingly to the empty land.

"We march north now for the Ford of Bruinen. Let none mark thy passage. Slay any of evil kind met by day or night. The fewer who live to see the dawn of _en erui_ _Narbeleth_, (the first of October), the fewer there shalt be to carry out the attack upon Imladris. Remember for whom we fight and the debt we honor, though the years hath grown very long."

Beside him Helluin rose, her cloak drawn aside to reveal her black armor as she drew Anguirél. Holding the black sword of Gondolin aloft, for once she spoke in a normal voice.

"_Ú__anno díhenas!_ _Er connas. Beltho huiniath!_**¹ ¹****(Show no mercy! One order. Kill 'em all! **Sindarin**)**

In the next moment she saw again that illusion of a landscape coming to life as the barren ground of northern Hollin showed that subtle motion of the Laiquendi breaking stealth to begin their march. 'Twas not so many as had once left after Dálindir's first appearance in Ossiriand before the Host of Maedhros and Maglor, nor so many as she and Beinvír had found at the muster 'nigh the Emyn Uial in S.A. 1695. Her best guess made their count in the hundreds. T'would be enough.

Upon the morn of 1 Narbeleth, the rising sun lit the tops of the red stone walls that rose to the surrounding high moors, while in the depths of the valley through which the waters of the Bruinen flowed, shadows lingered 'neath the trees. For the past 24 hours, parties of Laiquendi archers had hunted, shooting all such foes as they encountered. Now a swath of dead littered the valley floor and the moors above for a distance of some two leagues out from the ford, but the defensive perimeter had been drawing inwards to that point as the hours passed. Best reckoning put the count of the dead at no less than the third part of the invaders, but 'twas no sure tally of that tale, for as usual, no great battles had been fought, just many isolated incidents, after which companies of _Yrch_ or Hillmen went missing.

Over the past few days the regular sentries of Imladris had been replaced by companies of Noldor, and upon this morn, joining them were mounted knights in full armor, mirror polished and glittering with gemstones, 'neath colorful pennants, and armed with spear, sword and shield. At their head sat the Lord Elrond with the Lord Glorfindel at his right hand and such others as had lived in the Blessed Realm gathered behind. The fore hooves of his white horse were planted at the verge of the path leading into Imladris and just shy of the bank of the Bruinen.

In the first hour past dawn they heard fighting in the woods 'cross the water; guttural screams of Men in pain and the blood chilling war cries of the _Yrch_.

"Ready thyselves, for Angmar is 'nigh and the onslaught at hand," the Peredhel warned as he drew his sword. "We charge at the first sight of them. They will not cross the water and no foot shalt they set upon the ground of the Hidden Valley. Remember those behind us that we protect."

Around him the knights of Imladris leveled their spears or drew their swords, preparing to launch their mounts 'cross the shallow water to fall upon their foes with bitter steel. They waited on their lord's command…and waited, and waited.

From the woods 'cross the Bruinen the screams and shrieks of the enemy continued, slowly but surely drawing nearer. The hands of the defenders tightened on their weapons, for it seemed that at any moment a horde of invaders would charge down the opposite bank and into the river, and yet the minutes passed and the sun climbed higher.

Yet finally the enemy was't seen at last. With a blood-curdling screech a lone _orch, _who seemed to be more in panicked flight than charging to attack, raced down the slope to the far bank of the Bruinen, and there with a thud, pitched forward face-first into the flowing waters, an arrow quivering in his back.

The knights of Imladris calmed their mounts and braced anew for the coming attack, yet 'twas only moments ere they marked the silence of the woods. No longer did battle cries or the screams of the dying rend the peace of the valley. After the tension of the hours of waiting for battle, now a confounding silence prevailed. Soon a gentle breeze fluttered the leaves of the surrounding trees and they became aware again of the sound of running water.

"'Tis some trick of the enemy, I deem," a knight offered, "some gambit to draw us out."

But the Lord of Imladris, who saw deeper than others, relaxed and took a deep and cleansing breath. The silence felt wholesome at last, as though a storm had passed rather than the continued anticipation of a trap baited and lying ahead in the dark. For now the danger was't gone and this land he knew so well after all the long years felt to be at peace once again. He barely needed the prescience of his Ring. And so to the surprise of his knights, the Lord of Imladris sheathed his sword and held up a hand to stop any from following. Then he nudged his mount forward and slowly walked into the Bruinen. At mid-stream he halted and waited.

For some moments all was't still upon the further bank, but then, in the span of a blink, or 'twixt one heartbeat and the next, a single figure seemed to appear from the foliage beside the path to the ford. 'Twas as if he materialized from 'naught but air and sunlight and the motions of the leaves in the breeze.

There stood a tall ellon, clad in mixed greens, cloak, tunic, and pants, and shod in tall boots. O'er his shoulder he bore a bow and a quiver of arrows. A long knife was't sheathed at his belt. To the astonishment of the waiting Noldor, the Lord of Imladris dismounted, and then standing knee-deep in the running waters of the Bruinen, bowed to the ellon.

"_Mae govannen, Elrond Peredhel,"_ the ellon said in a clear voice that carried surprisingly for its volume. "Long it hast been since last we met, son of Elwing and Eärendil the Blessed, yet memory is longer. We hath not forgotten the valor of thy ancestors 'neath Varda's stars and in the days when the sun and moon were young. Still thou hast our service at need in memory of them."

And as he had once done long ago by firelight in the forest of Ossiriand, in the blink of an eye he wasn't gone and no trace of his passing could any mark.

Now when the Lord Elrond rejoined his knights upon the hither bank, they were for the most part stunned to silence, but the Lord Glorfindel came to him and asked, by what enchantment had the speaker come and gone such that none had seen from whence he came or whither he went.

"Consider thyself fortunate indeed, my friend," the Peredhel said quietly, "for thou hast seen Dálindir son of Denethor, King of the Laiquendi. Save for Beinvír, he is the only Green Elf I hath ever seen, and that but once and long ago, in the company of Maedhros and Maglor and Helluin…and my brother." Then composing himself, he ordered scouts to survey the surrounding lands, "for I believe they shalt find no living enemy, and that we hath been delivered by the grace of unseen bows."

Thus ended the failed siege of Imladris by the Witch King of Angmar in T.A. 1356, of which there is but bare mention in the histories and well 'nigh no details. Of the enemy, not a single one came ever back to Rhudaur or to their warrens in the Hithaeglir. Amongst the _Yrch_ 'twas whispered that whatsoever fell spirits that once visited terror upon their host long ago in Sauron's service, they still walked these lands and would ever be the doom of their folk. In Rhudaur the Hillmen picked a new captain for the coming war against Cardolan, for the one who'd commanded their companies against Imladris had vanished without a trace. In the north, Tindomul gave thanks for the remoteness of Carn Dûm as he endured the derision and chastisement of his master after reporting his failure. Then he gave thought to the further prosecution of the war.

In the Hidden Valley the bells rang and the knights and warriors stood down while the people of Imladris celebrated their deliverance from the expected siege. The scouts returned in the evening and reported that indeed, the enemy lay slain on the moors and in the woods and none living could be found. And though 'twas little enough to be told, already songs were being composed in the Hall of Fire and that night a feast of thanks was't held.

Later, sitting alone in his study with a glass of wine, the Lord of Imladris revisited a scene from his youth, in the forested lands of Lindon 'nigh the end of the First Age, for memory is indeed longer than the fleeting years.

_"All my people honor thee, sons of Elwing, daughter of Dior, son of Lúthien, daughter of Elu Thingol and Melian the Blessed. Long did thy ancestors in Doriath hold back the evil. Lúthien the Fair and Beren son of Barahir lived amongst us on Tol Galen, and we were honored by their presence. Thou hast our service at need in memory of them."_

And finally he whispered, "Elros, my brother, I miss thee still."

**To be Continued**


	109. In An Age Before Chapter 109

**Chapter 109**

**Chapter Seventy**

_**Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun**_

'Twas the dead of a warm summer's night in northern Eriador; the third hour of the third watch upon the walls of Fornost Erain, the great fortress of Arthedain. Once upon a time, in the reign of King Elendil, it had been the main stronghold of the Kingdom of Arnor, but those days were now long gone. The Northern Kingdom of the Dúnedain had fragmented in Third Age 861, when Eärendur, the tenth king, had divided the realm 'twixt his three feuding sons. Whereas the Men who had come from sunken Númenor o'er the Sundering Sea had once comprised one realm 'neath one king, now their people held but two of the three lesser kingdoms in the north…while'st far to the south, still undivided, lay Gondor.

Of the three northern kingdoms, Arthedain was't the largest and strongest, retaining within its borders Fornost Erain, the ancient capitol city of Annúminas, (now largely abandoned), the borderlands with the Elven realm of Lindon, and two of the three treasured Seeing Stones, or _palantíri_. The second kingdom, Cardolan lay south of the Great East Road 'twixt Baranduin and Mitheithel, from Amon Sûl, (where the third _palantír_ of the north was't housed), down to the coast. And the third north kingdom, Rhudaur, had fallen to the Hillmen and Angmar in T.A. 1356.

Hindsight says that the Dúnedain should hath removed from Amon Sûl that _palantír _housed therein, for the Tower of the Wind lay upon the border of Cardolan, Arthedain and fallen Rhudaur, a temptation and a prize to the enemy well 'nigh impossible to ignore. Yet the Seeing Stone was't not moved ere the assault upon Cardolan, (though this had been foreseen for 'nigh on fifty years), for neither Arthedain nor Cardolan would hath seen the _palantír_ housed within the borders of the other realm**¹**, and Amon Sûl was't a fortress strong and well defended. Alternative settlements further west upon the border of Arthedain and Cardolan counted only Bree. That town was't only poorly fortified and held no contingent of Dúnedain sufficient for an earnest defense. And so the _palantír_ remained at Amon Sûl, a scant ten miles from the hostile realm of Rhudaur. **¹****(**By this time, Arthedain had, for 'nigh on fifty years, claimed lordship o'er all of what had been Arnor, and while the claim had been rejected by Cardolan and Rhudaur, Arthedain can be expected to have felt some claim to the _palantír_ as well as the crown, for the Seeing Stones had ever been the property of the Kings. The claim would probably have been felt even stronger after spending fifty years guarding the Weather Hills and the border against incursions from Rhudaur.)

Now many of the Dúnedain's foes were mortal Men, the Hillmen of Rhudaur chief amongst them. Also some companies of Easterlings had traveled long, 'round the north marches of the Ered Mithrin all the way from Rhovanion, at the command of the Nazgûl, ere making their way at last to Carn Dûm upon the westernmost spur of the Ered Angmar. Yet many others in Angmar's service were of that evil race called _Yrch_. These had ever been the most hated enemies of the Elves, having been bred in ancient times, 'twas said, from Elves taken and broken by Sauron's master, Morgoth Bauglir, the Great Enemy of the World. The enmity was't mutual, for the _Yrch _despised the Eldar even above the Men of the West.

From its founding in T.A. 1300, Angmar had included the northernmost parts of the Misty Mountains. Thither for Ages had been the chief strongholds of the _Yrch_, including Mount Gram upon the western side of the Hithaeglir, and the endless tunnels and filthy warrens 'neath Mt Gundabad, and so all the many tribes of those foul creatures in the north had come 'neath the dominion of the Witch King. Also in his service the stone-trolls of the northern Ettenmoors whom the Elves called _Tor_. These were hulking creatures, hard of hide and great in strength, though lacking in wit and mortally affected by sunlight. O'er the proceeding 100 years, the Lord of the Nazgûl had amassed a mixed army numbering some 80,000 soldiers.

Now war had erupted again in the north. Earlier in the year King Arveleg had been slain in battle and his son Araphor had taken the throne as the ninth king of Arthedain. Rhudaur was't now openly ruled from Carn Dum and its troops massed thither. 'Twas now the year T.A. 1409 and the remaining Dúnedain of the north were besieged by the terror of the realm of Angmar and its undead Witch-King. Upon the walls of Fornost they kept watch and all within the fortress looked to the coming of their allies.

To the aid of Arthedain had come the Lord Elrond Half-Elven, leading a mixed force of mounted Noldor out of Imladris,andGaladrim infantry from Lórinand, numbering in total almost two thousands. They had been joined by a contingent of Sindar, some twelve hundreds sent from the Grey Havens in Lindon by their lord, Círdan the Ship-Wright. Though but a tithe of the numbers at arms in days of yore, the joint company harked back to the great alliance of the 2nd Age, when the Elven populace of Eriador had been mobilized in the War of the Elves and Sauron, wherein the master smith Celebrimbor had been slain and many of the Elven Rings of Power taken by the Dark Lord.

Through the night the Elvish forces had hastened northwest, for having arisen in the Age of the Stars, their night vision allowed them to march by starlight, the better to avoid detection by the soldiery of the Witch King. Still, great danger there was't in this land aplenty. The spies and scouts of the enemy crept like vermin through the rolling North Downs upon which Fornost Erain stood, and the _Yrch_ in particular favored the dark.

Indeed the Elves of Lothlorien and Imladris were now cut off from their homelands. Rhudaur had fallen long before, and o'er the past month a swift and vicious invasion from Angmar had o'errun much of Cardolan. These tidings had come from a few fleeing survivors of border outposts and they had been met with dismay. Amon Sûl, the tall Tower of the Wind, had been taken and thrown down. The fate of its _palantír_ was't still unknown and this set all the north in jeopardy, for if the Witch King held the Seeing Stone then none were safe from his sight.

So 'twas that the march of the Elves to Fornost was't fraught with uncertainty and danger. In the vanguard, Elrond, with Haldir of Lórinand and Galdor from the Havens at Lindon quietly spoke with the ranking Dúnedain officer of a defeated border outpost of Cardolan. Beregard was't his name and he was't weary from many hard days of fighting and many sleepless nights of flight.

"My Lords," the ragged officer said, "I thank thee for the succor given my Men. A long flight we hath made, and no friends 'til now did we meet upon our way, though by the grace of the Valar, of foes we saw none.

For years we watched the fighting in Rhudaur, knowing that if that realm was't taken, then we should be next. When Rhudaur fell in 1356, we knew our days were indeed numbered. In his malice, the Witch King craves the slaughter of all Men, save those he hast corrupted and enlisted to himself. Many art the tribes of Hillmen and others…savages they art, driven to a frenzy of bloodlust much akin to the _Yrch_. Their numbers art uncounted, but very great. Endless did their ranks seem, when less than a moon ago they assailed and o'erran our northern border. Barely had we moved to reinforce that line when an even stronger assault came upon us from both west and east.

Thus we were worsted, the border breached, and Amon Sûl taken. In that battle our king fell, and most of his knights with him. The slaughter of our troops was't very great throughout the campaign. Indeed I wager that less than one in five survived. 'Tis now but the consolidation of our lands that is left for the invaders to accomplish…that and the final slaughter. Alas for our people!"

"Great sorrow do we feel for thy folk, Beregard," Elrond said, "and too for thy Lord, Mallar. 'Tis sad that thy folk could come not to the aid of thy brothers in Rhudaur."

"Aye, too deep and for too long had there been contention 'twixt our folk."

"'Twas thy long dispute o'er Amon Sûl and its _palantír_," said Elrond, while'st shaking his head. "Yet that tower lies now in ruin and both thy realms hath lost the Seeing Stone."

The Dúnadan swallowed nervously and looked down, shamed by the truth of his words.

"Some of our folk sought shelter amongst the great barrows of _Tyrn Gorthad_**¹** and some riders may hath escaped south through Dunland to Gondor," Beregard said hopefully after a pause, "and mayhaps some aid shalt come from our brothers in the South Kingdom. With luck they should hath found some outpost upon their border by now, for they hath been gone nine days." **¹****(**_**Tyrn Gorthad, **_**the Barrow Downs **Sindarin**)**

"Such may be or may not be," Galdor said, "yet 'tis a slow response they shalt find, for many, many leagues lie 'twixt the western border of Calenardhon and Osgiliath upon Anduin, and any decision to send aid would be made thither by the king. And though they hath peace for a time, 'tis a watchful peace, for enemies still hedge their borders, south and east."

Beregard nodded, accepting the truth of the words. Little enough did he actually know of the South Kingdom.

"I fear then most for my people," he said, "if indeed little aid can they expect."

"In truth I fear that they art lost," Elrond said softly and with great sympathy for the Man's sorrow. 'Cross many, many years and through many fathers the Peredhel held a distant kinship to the Men of Cardolan. Much closer was't his kinship to the royal houses of both Arthedain and Gondor. "I fear that yet more evil shalt come to all thy folk. Alas for the loss of so many lives. Alas for the loss of the _palantír_."

"Come now and join our march," said Galdor, "for three days hence shalt we come at last to Fornost and thither shalt King Araphor receive thee, for though thou were of Cardolan, the blood of Númenor flows in thy veins and he is now thy right lord."

To this Beregard nodded in assent. King Araphor of Arthedain was't now the right lord of all the Dúnedain of Eriador. The claim of rule o'er all Arnor by Araphor's father, King Argeleb which Cardolan and Rhudaur once rejected had come to pass. With a bow he took his leave, and with the other survivors 'neath his command, joined the march of the Elves. When he had gone, the Elvish leaders spoke amongst themselves.

"We art in great jeopardy, my friends," Elrond said, and the others nodded in agreement.

"The loss of the _palantír_ I fear more greatly than the loss of the territories of Rhudaur and Cardolan," said Haldir. "What good art those buffer lands if the Witch King can invade our deepest counsels?"

"Aye," agreed Galdor, "and 'naught has't been reported of the fate of the Seeing Stone. We hath 'naught but fears and suspicions, knowing 'aught but that the Tower of Amon Sûl has't been taken and no doubt despoiled ere its destruction."

"Our only hope lives in the thought that mayhaps one of the _Cardolanath_**¹** hath escaped with it out of the battle," offered Haldir. **¹**(**Cardolanath, **_**People of Cardolan**_, the suffix _–ath_ denotes a collective plural in Sindarin)

"Hmmm," muttered Elrond, "and how did Beregard and his few soldiers win their way hither, I wonder? These lands crawl with enemies, for he said they came against his folk from both east and west, and yet 'tis 'nigh on fifteen leagues to the border…a long flight indeed."

Haldir who rode beside him had o'erheard and asked, "Mayhaps 'tis 'aught but good fortune…to balance the poor fortune of their defeat? They saw none, neither friend nor foe, or so they claimed."

_They saw none…_ The words brought a realization and a sly grin crossed the Peredhel's face. Unlike Haldir of Lórinand, he remembered the last war in Eriador and the assault upon his own realm but fifty-odd years past, and he was't a lore master and student of history and geography.

"Forget not in whose lands we tread, my friend," Elrond replied

The March Warden of the Golden Wood looked carefully at the Lord of Imladris. Haldir was't a Silvan Elf, born and raised in the Vale of Anduin east of the Hithaeglir, but Elrond was't a scion of the royal houses of the Noldor and the Sindar, and the closest living kin of the Kings of Númenor. Oft did he speak in riddles it seemed, yet 'twas wise to pay careful attention to his words.

''Twas once the Kingdom of Arnor," Haldir answered after some thought.

"And aforetime?"

At the following silence and questioning look upon the face of the Silvan Elf, Elrond said, "Distant kin, closer to thee than to me, the lovers of Seven Rivers and of song."

But Haldir found no enlightenment in his words.

_He know'th not of Ossiriand, nor of the wars of Beleriand in the First Age of the Sun,_ Elrond realized_. And why should he? His folk set no foot west of Rhovanion 'till the Second Age, nor traveled Eriador save only briefly in time of war long ago._

Ossiriand. A long, long time ago Elrond had traveled that land as a captive, he and his brother, and the memory brought another thought to his mind.

Now Elrond looked carefully to the east, past Haldir and into the blanketing gloom. 'Cross ten leagues of night to the Weather Hills he cast his sight, searching with eyes and heart, and more that was't hidden. In the distance he thought he spied the faintest will-o-the-wisp dancing. A smile crossed his face. _Thither is hope,_ he thought, but he kept his counsel and maintained his silence as he nudged his mount into motion.

**To Be Continued**

4


	110. In An Age Before Chapter 110

**Chapter 110**

** Chapter Seventy-one**

_**Fornost Erain – The Third Age of the Sun**_

In the darkness came the hiss of an arrow and the following thud of its impact, then the crunching roll of an armored body falling upon the short dry grass of the slope. 'Twas a sound repeated again and again at close quarters on the western incline of the Weather Hills. The shooters were hidden and stationary with a steep drop at their backs, but their targets were advancing en mass in a disorganized charge characteristic of the _Yrch._ They came on recklessly despite the fall of their comrades, for they were some two hundreds and their numbers gave them courage. 'Twas under a score of fleeing soldiers of Cardolan they pursued. Already they had cut down an equal number, hewing their bodies as they fell. Had they not such great dread of their master they would hath tarried to feast upon the dead.

Now they came to the last ground before the land fell away to the flats north of the Midgewater Marshes, and they thought to finally slaughter the last of their defeated foes.

"We've got 'em now, boys," cried out the _Orch_**¹ **captain Kûgash, a hideous creature, man tall, but with warty skin, an ape's arms, and fangs that dripped reeking yellowish spittle. "Slay these last and it's feast time for us all!" And with that encouragement his troops gave hooting cries and surged into the narrow field whither their quarry had fled. **¹**(**Orch, **sing. of _Yrch, _Sindarin)

They had come halfway 'cross that land when a horrifying Light rose up to meet them. It seemed to take shape from the very soil itself. 'Twas the figure of a tall elleth that stood forth, clad in antique black armor and shrouded in a painful brilliance of mingled silver and gold. Her eyes blazed sapphire blue while'st she brandished a black longsword. In a whirl of sudden motion she hewed the nearest three _Yrch_ with inhuman assurance and speed, and then she cried out, "_Beltho Huiniath!" _at the top of her lungs.

At that blood curdling battle cry the better part of the _Yrch_ slammed to a halt. Those words were dark legend amongst their folk, passed down from generation to generation in fearful tales of death and defeat going back to the First Age of the accursed Sun. Many had the brief intention to flee, for though they were almost two hundreds, this enemy was't unkillable, and possessed of a wrath that made their own cruelty pale. She had slain thousands of their kind o'er the years, and 'twas even whispered that in the last Great War she had defeated the precious Nine of their ultimate master.

Yet all their thoughts and fears were short-lived indeed. Focused entirely upon that one blazing figure, none of them noticed the hundred others who rose all about them, hooded and cloaked in a patchwork of mixed greens, silent as shadows, and bearing deadly bows. Many didn't even see the shooters as their arrows slammed home. The shafts tore through their crude armor of leather and steel plate, pitching their bodies aside on impact; a testimony to the hatred of the shooters. The firing was't directed with inhuman accuracy, the arrows oft finding either heart or eye despite the darkness and the movement of the targets. Indeed some arrows passed so close to the bright warrior that they ruffled her obsidian hair in their passing. N'er did she flinch, for she had complete faith in the shooting craft of these archers. A few heartbeats only and the slaughter was't full wrought. Upon the field not a single _Yrch_ still lived. In the silence that followed, a grim voice could be heard.

"A brief taste only, yet welcome, O Helluin. I thank thee for anointing again my blade with blood."

'Twas the voice of the ancient black sword of Gondolin.

"Ever welcome art thou to spill the blood of the enemy, O Anguirél," the elleth replied ere she wiped the blade clean on a fallen enemy's ragged tunic and slipped the deadly, sentient weapon back into its sheath.

Into the killing ground moved a pair of archers, while'st the rest slipped away in silence, disappearing completely in a handful of heartbeats. The score of terrified Cardolanath had continued their flight pell-mell down the steep side of the hill and not yet had they even realized their deliverance. The lack of pursuit past the Weather Hills they would eventually ascribe to having escaped the holdings of the enemy.

"Fair shooting as always, Tórferedir," Helluin said to the leader while'st offering a short bow in greeting.

"Ever art thou given to drama, Helluin," the ellon replied with a grin. "Just as easily could we hath slain them in silence and none would hath seen 'aught of us."

A smile graced the chiseled features of the Noldo.

"I hath long known the unsurpassed stealth of thy people, yet whensoever hath thou known me not to desire the sight of dismay upon the faces of the enemy?"

"Indeed not since I first fought beside thee in battle," the general of the Laiquendi mused, _and that, 3,150 years ago_.

It had been in the final days of the War of the Elves and Sauron, when upon the banks of the River Lune, Helluin had joined forces with the Green Elves to destroy Sauron's northern army, thereby allowing the combined forces of Lindon and Númenor to turn the tide and retake Eriador from the Dark Lord's invaders. Desperate need had allied them, for Helluin and Tórferedir had despised each other at first. Since that time they had become good friends, seeing each other off and on o'er the centuries.

"Hold them, Tórferedir," Helluin beseeched him now, "allow them not to move beyond the borders of Cardolan."

"Fear not," he told her with a chuckle, "indeed t'will be harder to restrain my warriors from driving them back to Rhudaur. We hath slain already well 'nigh eight thousands."

He then looked to the third figure, shorter and more slender, standing 'nigh and asked, "And art the two of thee now to take thy leave, Beinvír?"

"Indeed so, for Arthedain awaits us," the second elleth answered, casting back her hood. Waves of deep chestnut hair framed a beautifully modeled face with gracefully arching brows, full lips, and mischievous eyes of grey flecked with gold. She turned to the tall warrior and asked, "Shalt we be on our way, beloved?"

"Aye, _meldanya_," Helluin answered with a nod, "to Fornost we go."

"Safe journey 'til next we meet," Tórferedir wished them as they departed.

Amongst his wandering people no further farewell was't customary though it might be a century ere they met again. In a few short heartbeats the twain had disappeared into the night. With a sigh the veteran general surveyed the battlefield. _And so now again blood flows upon the lands of our home,_ he thought, remembering darker times long past, and then he too took his leave.

At dawn some four days later, a watchman upon the walls 'nigh the first gate of Fornost Erain cried out in chagrin, "Strangers, stand and declare thyselves!"

He'd had to rub his eyes for they had simply appeared upon the road, indeed they had well 'nigh reached the gate unseen…easily within range of the bow slung 'cross the back of the shorter figure. Yet he marked that they were Elvish folk and little did he know of Elves save for old tales and the sight of the allies who had arrived but a half-day earlier.

Unlike those Noldor and Sindar and Galadrim, these two were cloaked in hooded robes of mixed greens, and aside from their weapons they carried only traveler's bags slung o'er their shoulders. They came to a halt as commanded and threw back their hoods.

One figure was't notably tall, with jet black hair falling halfway to her waist. Full battle armor she wore and a longsword was't girt at her side. Upon that belt hung also a bright Ring of _mithril_. She looked up at the guard with sapphire eyes that seemed to glow. The second figure stood barely to her shoulder and a breeze ruffled her waves of deep brown hair. In addition to the bow and quiver of arrows at her back she bore paired fighting knives in scabbards flanking the quiver. She too looked up to meet the eyes of the guardsman, fairly stopping his heart with her beauty.

"I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, long a friend of the Dúnedain, and with me is Beinvír Laiquende, known upon a time to Elendil himself," called out the taller elleth.

For some moments the guard remained silent, uncertain of what to reply. A second Dúnadan joined him at his post, this one an officer.

"If thou art truly the Noldo called Helluin, then we hath had some word of thee from the Lord Elrond," the officer called down. "He bade us ask thee to show forth a token made in Khazad-dûm by the hand of Celebrimbor."

To answer his request, Helluin reached down and took from her belt the Sarchram**, **the first Ring of Power to be forged by the Elves. 'Twas the only Elvish Ring ever created to be a weapon. This she held up so that it gleamed in the morning sunlight, blazing silver bright, and then she cast her thought upon it, calling to that measure of her own _fëa_ with which she'd once infused it. Upon the face of the Ring, letters of fire blazed in the ancient cirth of Khazad-dûm. In that Dwarvish script was't engraved a fell incantation for the bane of her enemies, but the language was't the High Elven tongue called Quenya.

"Open the gates," ordered the officer to the gatekeepers below, and shortly there came a clanking of chains and the massive doors swung open.

"About damn time," groused the Sarchram as Helluin set it back upon her belt.

Now the plan of Fornost Erain had been conceived by the Dúnedain in the days of their first strength, when those martial architects and masons, smiths and woodworkers still recalled the grandeur of their sunken homeland of Númenor. So the entrance was't not one gate, but a series of five, each guarded by towers and barring a narrowing way that was't hedged upon either sides by massive walls. To win this passage a besieging army woulds't become the target of companies of archers and artillerymen, their approach harried by withering fire, 'til they came at last to a blind courtyard, a killing ground wherein their hopes would perish in shot and flame. 'Twas a cunning deception and a deadly trap.

The true way into Fornost led not through all five gates, but only through the first two, and thither, 'twixt the second and third was't set in the wall a cunning gate of stone, heavy beyond the ability of even a company of _Tor_ to budge. 'Twas a sliding block which rose upwards, counterbalanced upon tracks set into the tall and massive towers to either side. So the true gates were opened to Helluin and Beinvír, one after another, while'st their progress was't o'erseen by the soldiery of Fornost Erain.

Now when finally they came to that last gate and it slid upwards to allow their passage, a delegation stood awaiting them in the courtyard beyond. Thither was't King Araphor, Lord of Arthedain, with his guards, and with him also was't the Lord Elrond. Helluin and Beinvír bowed low in greeting.

"Helluin and Beinvír, friends and allies of old. As did King Elendil in days of yore, I welcome thee to Fornost," declared King Araphor.

"To honor a friendship that has't stood since long ere Elendil's time, we come to offer our aid," the dark Noldo said, "and as once before to the hand of Meneldil in the South Kingdom do I return the king's property from a holding fallen to the enemy."

Thence from her soiled and worn travel bag of mixed greens, Helluin withdrew a parcel wrapped in a cloth bearing the coat of arms of Cardolan's royal house, and this she unbound for all to see, for within its shrouds lay the _Palantír_ _of Amon Sûl_.

'Twas with great rejoicing that the king received the Seeing Stone, and later he broke his own fast with his guests in the great hall. Thither he heard their account of the battle and how they had come to rescue the treasure of the fallen Tower of the Wind.

"…and so we came upon the battle in its sixth hour and 'twas dire indeed," said Beinvír after swallowing a mouthful of spiced eggs, "and save for our allies we should not hath won through the enemy line to come to the Lord Mallar in time."

"Aye, for the Lord Mallar was't already wounded, and few of his knights still stood able to do battle," Helluin agreed as she speared a chunk of bacon, "while'st the enemy gained ever in numbers, and many of these fresh troops held in reserve 'til after the lines of defense were breached. We met, and the lord had no doubt of the day's ending."

"He knew he would die and his realm would fall," Beinvír added. "Ere dusk t'would be finished, for most of his soldiers lay either slain or scattered and he was't ordering the last defense."

"So he met us and gave into our hands the_ palantír_, even tearing a strip from his own surcoat to wrap it in and saying, _'Tis past the time of flight, for I am wounded and death shalt come upon me soon enough. Already my son is slain and my line ended._ _ Yet I would hath not this treasure of Númenor fall into the hands of the enemy, and if by some means thou can'st do what I cannot, then deliver it to Araphor in Arthedain. May the Valar protect thee and watch o'er our brothers."_

'Twas a brave act at a desperate time. No sooner had he handed the _palantír_ to Helluin than he drew again his sword and rejoined the fray," said Beinvír sadly. "He fell, not as the Lord of Cardolan only, but as a Man of the West."

"Long sundered in thought and passions we were," Araphor mused, "yet one still in blood at the end. Mayhaps there is yet some hope for our people."Then after a thoughtful pause he asked, "How won thee free of the battle if 'twas indeed so dire?"

"From the tower we fought our way beyond the slopes of Amon Sûl, though 'twas rife with _Yrch_," Helluin said with distaste as she poured herself another goblet of wine. She had personally slain 'nigh on five score of the foul creatures. "Ere reaching the slopes of the Weather Hills we rejoined our allies and retreated hither."

"Pray tell, what allies art these that thou hast twice mentioned?" King Araphor asked. "Were they Dúnedain of Cardolan?"

To this question the two ellith looked briefly at each other ere they answered.

"Nay, O King. They art Elvish warriors," said Helluin, "and they hath called Eriador home through all this Age and the last. They had dwelt hither o'er 3,300 years ere Elendil set foot upon this land. Bitterly they doth hate the minions of the Witch King, for they knew his master and his master's master long aforetime."

'Twas with shock and amazement that King Araphor received these tidings.

"Save for our allies in Lindon and some wandering Sindar, my people report little contact with any of thy folk in this land," he said. "Surely they must be few."

"Cities they disdain and city dwellers they avoid, O King," Beinvír told him gently, "yet they art many and watchful, and ever 'nigh. I believe they hath slain some eight to ten thousands of the enemy in Cardolan of late, and even now they hold the border against Angmar."

"Thou shalt not see these warriors, my lord, nor any of their people," Elrond told him from experience, "neither thou nor I, yet they safeguarded this realm while'st Elendil went down to his doom in the War of the Last Alliance, and they won a field in the War of the Elves and Sauron that allowed Númenor's aid to Gil-galad to free Eriador from the Dark Lord."

"Then I am thankful to them, though I know them not."

"As art we all," Elrond said.

Now in the days that followed there was't battle by day and night. The forces of Angmar surged through what had been the realm of Rhudaur, crossing the flatlands west of the Ettenmoors and north of the Weather Hills to march on the fortress of Fornost. Great were the numbers that the Witch King committed to the siege, yet for a time these were held back by the Dúnedain and their allies, who, after receiving the _palantír_ from Amon Sûl, knew indeed that their counsels were secure.

So too did none come in assault from the southeast, for upon the borders of fallen Cardolan were unseen sentries whose arrows slew any that trespassed thither. Amongst the _Yrch_ were old tales of battle retold…of invisible hunters who had slaughtered their ancestors and mutilated their corpses in these same lands long ago, 'til by agreement they avoided the border for the duration of the campaign.

Now the months of summer, Norui, Cerveth, and Urui, (June, July, and August) had passed and the days of Ivanneth, (September), too had fled. Narbeleth, (October), was't in and little more than the remainder of that month remained of the campaigning season in that year. Either the enemy would take Fornost and drive out its people into the coming winter's cold, or they would be forced to withdraw to their city of Carn Dûm ere they froze. For a week there was't mostly peace as the lines resolved. Both sides reformed their companies and prepared for the final engagements of the season.

'Twas upon 12 Narbeleth that the Elves of Imladris and Lothlorien took their leave of Fornost, and with them went Helluin and Beinvír after being long in counsel with the king. The Elves from Lindon remained upon the walls, taking the places of the Dúnedain who also marched out to meet the enemy.

Now the Elvish forces took up a position some half-dozen leagues due south of Fornost, upon that major throughway later called the Greenway, but known to them as the Great North Road. This they waylaid in strength against the passage of the enemy, for it led straight to the gates of the fortress. Helluin and Beinvír resumed the stealth of the Laiquendi and passed unseen amongst the encampments of the enemy, doing such damage as they could. Behind them the armies of Arthedain marched from their gates to meet the foes amassed upon the fields to the east. Upon 14 Narbeleth the battle began.

'Twas at dusk when the horns of Angmar brayed their harsh notes sounding the attack. Evil Men of the barbaric east and those of the closer mountain tribes marched beside tens of thousands of _Yrch_, while'st both desperately strove to avoid being trampled by the _Tor._ Through the night they made scant progress after they engaged the Dúnedain and by morning the lines had held.

Bitter had the fighting been and very great was't the bloodshed and loss of life. With steel and fire, spears and falling bombs, each side wrought slaughter upon the other. Bodies fell while'st blood ran in rivulets 'cross the grassland of northern Eriador. Amongst the Dúnedain of Arthedain fought the survivors of Cardolan, a few hundred grudging and hardened soldiers, and no Men fought with such bitter hatred of the enemy. And from no source that either friend or foe could see came flights of deadly arrows, hissing past the Men of the West to find their marks in the soldiery of the Witch King.

With morning 'nigh, the _Tor _hastily fled to holes they'd dug to hide themselves from the accursed sun, while'st weary _Yrch_, and Men upon both sides laid down their arms in exhaustion to seek food and rest. When darkness fell the battle resumed and through the night a slow shifting of the lines came as a result of the numerical advantage of the enemy. Despite their superior warcraft, the Dúnedain were pushed back some two miles.

The next night they were forced to fall back five miles, and upon the fourth night some ten miles were ceded in a quickening retreat. When the sun rose, the Men of the West were exhausted. Another such night would find them with their backs to their own walls, and then the siege of Fornost Erain itself would begin. Word was't sent to the king and to the Elves stationed along the road to the south. Now a decision needed to be made.

The cavalry and infantry of Imladris and Lothlorien could abandon their station upon the road and join in a counter attack upon the forces of Angmar. Or they could retreat directly to Fornost to bolster its garrison. On the one hand they would be abandoning the main approach route to the enemy while'st placing themselves in jeopardy of being trapped outside the fortress. On the other hand they could retreat and be trapped within the fortress, having not even raised their arms against the enemy. Within the walls was't such safety as could be found within a citadel under siege, yet in such a battle cavalry was't well 'nigh useless. Upon the field they were o'ermatched, for even in joining their numbers to the Dúnedain, still the allied forces stood outnumbered by o'er four to one. Some 12,000 Elves and Men faced almost 50,000 invaders from Angmar.

Now in the last afternoon a messenger was't sent from the fortress to Elrond with words from Araphor the king.

"My Lord, thou must do as thou will, for thou know'st thy strength and the situation upon the road better than I. If thou choose to fight upon the field, still I would bid thee come hither ere the gates be forced closed. Within Fornost hath we great store of provisions to last through the winter. Good fortune in battle, and may the Valar watch o'er thee."

Elrond read the message twice and then dismissed the rider.

"Prepare to ride," he told the Noldor of Imladris, "We move to attack the enemy from the south." And to the infantry of Lothlorien he ordered, "Make thy way east to join the battle, yet come upon it from due south, which shalt be to the west of my cavalry, such that we shalt engage the enemy from 3 sides, west, south, and east."

Haldir nodded and moved to ready his troops for their march.

So, they were not to join with the Dúnedain as many had suspected, reinforcing their front, but rather woulds't assail their foes from the south, at a right angle to the defenders' line. Elrond intended to attack the enemy lines from the rear with his riders, in hopes of confusing their officers and disordering their lines. Into that chaos, Haldir's troops were to charge in hopes of routing and sweeping the enemy away to the north. 'Twas a good plan, yet Haldir's heart had doubts.

_Too few, we art too few for such a plan,_ he thought. _Were our numbers doubled, even still t'would be a chancy thing. And who's to say that no reinforcements shalt come to the enemy from the east or the north? Ahhh well, as ever we shalt do as we can, and may the Valar protect us._

Indeed 'twas just as Haldir had feared, for the Witch King had ordered his citadel at Carn Dûm emptied and had joined his forces to lead the final assault. Their march would bring them to the battle at midnight of that very night, and by joining with his existing armies, completely o'erwhelm the resisting Dúnedain forces. The enemy would then crash against Fornost far sooner than expected, perhaps even so soon as to take it at unawares and save themselves from a protracted winter siege.

Already he knew the fighting went well. The Dúnedain were in retreat and soon, soon his master's desire for the destruction of the hated North Kingdom of Isildur, he who had once dared to take 'aught from Him, would be at hand. Great reward he would hath for carrying out his mission, and so he gloated, and with a bully's confidence, the Lord of the Nazgûl rode to battle.

**To Be Continued**

7


	111. In An Age Before Chapter 111

**Chapter 111 – In An Age Before**

Now of Helluin and Beinvír is little told in the lore and histories of the battle, for none save themselves marked their movements or discerned their strategies. Of their tactics, but one upon the field would hath understood 'aught of the possibilities, loremaster and student of history that he was. Yet such understanding as he ever achieved would'st come not 'til much later. So 'twas upon that very night that a messenger came to them in haste from Lindon by way of the Emyn Beraid, the Tower Hills. A succession of horses he had exhausted along the way to fulfill the urgent message received in Elostirion from Helluin on behalf of the Lord Araphor. 'Nigh on 100 leagues he had ridden in but four and one-half days and his steed was't lathered and panting when he finally found them.

"_Helluin a Beinvír, mae govannen",_**¹ **he said in hasty greeting from the saddle.**¹**(**Helluin a Beinvír, mae govannen. **_**Helluin and Beinvír, well met.**_ Sindarin)

"_Mae govannen, meldir nín,"_ Helluin replied, _"garo tuloch han__?"_**¹****¹****(Mae govannen, meldir nín, garo tuloch** **han**? _**Well met, my (m) friend, have you brought it? **_Sindarin)

"_Garon han_ _si,"_**¹**the messenger answered, indicating to the dark warrior a large, cloth wrapped parcel sitting in the bed of the tiny dog cart behind his steed.** ¹**(**Garon han sí, **_**I have it here.**_ Sindarin)

She lifted the heavy item and set it immediately upon the ground, knowing its contents from its weight.

"Great thanks to you for this errand," she told him. "Ride now to safety, my friend."

With a nod he dismounted, and sparing but moments to unhitch the cart, wheeled his horse and nudged it into motion. Soon his steed's hoof beats dwindled into the darkness and the messenger was't gone.

"Surely thou doth recall this, my love," Helluin asked Beinvír as she undid the wrappings.

"Aye," the Green Elf replied, chuckling. "Quite unlikely am I to forget thy radiant appearance." _Standing naked 'neath the Light falling from the Two Trees in Aman long ago. 'Twas…impressive!_

Helluin blushed at the reference to the embarrassing vision she'd inadvertently gifted to her companion.

"Art thou sure thy gambit can succeed?" Beinvír asked. "The risk is very great."

"I hath faith. Oft is jeopardy necessary in war, yet one only doth this risk require," Helluin replied. _To stand 'twixt two armies, both hostile._ But already the Green Elf was't shaking her head. Still, Helluin continued. "For that reason I beseech thee, find some shelter elsewhere."

"Nay, Helluin, thou shalt not send me away this time. Whither thou stand shalt I stand also, for I hath faith in thee," Beinvír declared.

Helluin saw the resolve in her lover's stance and read the refusal in her eyes. For long moments they stood looking at each other. Finally Helluin nodded in acceptance. Wherefore could the Green Elf go in safety greater than with she whom an Eagle of Manwë had declared could fall not in battle?

"Together then we shalt stand against the Witch King."

In the dead darkness of northern Eriador the tramp of iron shod feet beat a marching cadence into the drying autumn grass. 'Cross the downs they came, thirty thousand _Yrch_ at the command of the Witch King. The last host of Carn Dûm was't moving to battle.

At their head rode a pale horse enveloped in a ghostly glow, as of swamp gas wafting upon a breeze, or something foul anointed with the sickly luminescence of cavern dwelling fungi. Riding that apparition was't the figure a tall Man, clad in a black robe o'er blackened armor of many articulated plates. Upon his brow he wore a jagged steel crown. In his right hand he bore a cruel sword wound about with fell sorcery. And upon his left hand, o'er the insectile joints of his iron gauntlet, he wore a massive Ring of dull gold.

'Neath his crown, within the shadow of his hood, only the deepest blackness was't to be seen. No points of moon light reflected off hardened eyes, nor gleamed from cruel teeth. No movement of living breath animated his chest. Dead for 'nigh on 2,850 years, he had once been a prince of Númenor, but in his avarice he had made a pact with the Dark Lord Sauron and accepted from him an accursed token, the first of the Nine Rings. Upon his death he had fallen into the shadow world of his evil master, thither to serve his will 'til the world's ending or the One Ring fail.

Now he led his columns toward the sounds of battle. The army he had sent to o'errun Cardolan and jeopardize Arthedain was't engaging the Dúnedain for the fifth night of fighting and had already driven them back a mile. He felt the hatred and the fear rising from the combat and he savored it. The desperation of his enemies fed him. Their fear nurtured his malice, adding to the powers granted him by his lord and master. Great sorcery he had at his command and he bent his thought upon the Men of the West, weakening their courage and sapping their resolve.

Upon the field the Dúnedain felt a weariness of heart and a faltering of their hopes. The odds they'd understood, but now the larger numbers of the enemy seemed to guarantee their defeat. How had they resisted that superior force without collapsing entirely? Was't it some madness possessing them, leading them to falsely believe they had even a shred of a chance? Surely it must be so…and if indeed their struggle was't hopeless and doomed, whyfore should they not flee this killing ground and lock themselves within the fastness of Fornost? Indeed whyfore should they not cast aside their arms and sue for the mercy of their foes? And would'st this defeat indeed presage the final fall of the West?

Assailed thus by the _mórgúl_ of the Witch King, the defenders' lines began to waver. Back they trod, struggling for resolve, yet fear and fatigue made them accept more easily the necessity of their retreat and the inevitability of their defeat. They fought defensively and by the hour ere midnight they were merely covering themselves and hoping only to preserve their withdrawal from becoming a rout.

Now while the Men knew not the source of their failing willpower, there were others 'nigh for whom 'twas all too obvious, both cause and effect. The Lord Elrond doubted 'naught what his heart bespoke, for he wore the Elven Ring Vilya, the Ring of Air, adorned with a brilliant sapphire, and with it came to him much knowledge from afar..

"Dire stands the field," cried out Elrond to his lieutenants, "for the Dúnedain art in full retreat and the enemy is driving them hence. And doth thou not feel the shadow of fear upon them, choking all? 'Tis the black sorcery of the Witch King. Now he must be 'nigh! To the battle then! Charge!"

Now the mounted Noldorin warriors were borne forward with the thunder of their steeds' hooves and quickly did the Elvish horses carry them to the battle. From the rear they slammed into the enemy with sudden violence, riding down many and hewing others with bright spears and gleaming swords. Several hundreds fell in those first moments, taken at unawares by such deadly fighters. Bitterly did the Elves slay both _Yrch_ and evil Men, yet ever was't their chief hatred given to the _Yrch_. Ere the first dawn of the sun and the first rising of the moon had these kindreds been foes. 'Neath the untwinkling stars o'er 5,000 years aforetime they had contested in the forests of sunken Beleriand. And none upon either side would ever forget.

Ere the first charge ended the Elves had slain a number of the enemy equal to their own count, and then as a wave front they wheeled their mounts to come again upon their foes. Desperately did the soldiers of Angmar turn to face them, and in this respite the Dúnedain found renewed hope. They drove against the enemy from the battle line, forcing their advance to a standstill.

Again the cavalry of Imladris clashed with the Witch King's army and again did many of the enemy fall, and yet not so many as aforetime, for this charge was't met with a thicket of jagged pikes. Crude iron points mounted atop sturdy poles planted against the ground took the lives of horses and riders. Noldor who had seen millennia of life died in that place and their _fëar_ fled to the Halls of Mandos in blessed Aman, wherein art gathered all the fallen of the Firstborn race.

Then, rather than order a third charge, Elrond led his riders in a crescent movement so as to bring his forces against the enemy from the north. The pikes turned to follow them and the lines of _Yrch_ with them, and now the Dúnedain drove forward from the west against their flank. The Noldor rode against the enemy, hewing with spear and sword as their mounts waded into the footmen of Angmar. Many fell thither as the battle was joined, and yet so many remained. Despite their casualties, well nigh 35,000 of the foe still bore arms.

'Twas then, with the _Yrch_ and their allies facing both north and west, that Haldir ordered his infantry to attack. From the south they came, and again the rearguard of the enemy was't assailed. Again did many fall in the first clash, well 'nigh another thousand, yet the lines held and the enemy regrouped, and as a great blot of black upon the night darkened downs, they formed a circle and fought, while'st Tilion rode up the sky and the hours passed. The enemy had neither been broken nor scattered.

Now it became apparent that the superior numbers of Angmar gave them resistance against the forces arrayed against them from Fornost. The invaders fought on without being o'erwhelmed, for the numbers of the defenders were too few to break them. Then slowly at first, while'st the fighting still raged west, south, and north, the entire battle began to move again toward Fornost. And though many of the enemy fell to the superior quality of the Elvish and mortal fighters, these could slay not enough to turn the tide.

So stood the battle when the Witch King drew 'nigh, and with his army of 30,000 fresh reinforcements, he deemed it certain that he should sweep aside the defenders in a very short time. Almost as a windfall, his coming would pin the Noldorin cavalry 'twixt his army already engaged and the one he led to battle. Forward he rode and the tramp of his soldiers following behind led him to gloat. From afar he had marked the standard of Imladris and he knew who rode in command 'neath it. _Elrond Peredhel_,_ once the Herald of Gil-galad; though thou fell not in the War of the Last Alliance, I shalt slay thee now_ _in my master's name._

At the Witch King's powerful thought of his name and a time long past, the Peredhel turned for a moment from the fighting and glanced north, and his thought turned to the memory of a darker time and a greater war, and the massive army of which he had once been a part. The sensitivity that his Ring conveyed had allowed him to feel the blast of hatred and "hear" the thoughts of his enemy, and now he was't aware of his approach.

With his senses thus enhanced, the Lord of Imladris spied two upon the crest of the down 'twixt his army and his foe's. As shadows they were, invisible to all other eyes, one tall, the other notably shorter, yet to him they appeared mantled in the corona of light that surrounded the taller figure. For a heartbeat their eyes made contact 'cross the space between and he saw sapphire blue. For a timeless moment they held thus, and then the concerns of battle reclaimed his attentions.

'_Tis but the crown of this one final down that stands 'twixt me and my quarry_, thought the Nazgûl, _but a scant two furlongs_. Down the lee of the facing slope he rode and 'cross the bottomland. And then as his steed set its first hoof upon the upslope, a single star flared upon the crest. With every soldier in his army, his attention was't riveted thither, for whatsoever magick this was't, 'twas not wholly strange to him. _I hath seen its like upon a time…in Mordor._

The brilliance alone burned his eyes. 'Twas a pain familiar from an Age before. Even secondhand, the Light of Aman was't an enemy in its own right. Few enough in Middle Earth could command such a _lúth_**¹,** and fewer still command it against him. The first twinges of fear whispered where his heart had been. Behind him his army ground to a halt, compressed into the bottomlands 'twixt the downslope behind and the one ahead. **¹**(**lúth, **_**spell or enchantment**_ Sindarin)

Slowly, as he forced his Wraith sight to remain upon the threat ahead, the star resolved into a figure and now he was't certain what it signified. Fear grew within him, but it wrestled with wrath. Long aforetime in another life, he had lost a life-changing duel to this foe…she had delivered him into unexpected and eternal servitude. And 1,400 years later she had held him and his fellow wraiths prisoners in combat within Mt. Doom, rendering them impotent to aid their master in the War of the Last Alliance. Rage exploded within him. She had the audacity to face him, one alone, while'st he led an army of 30,000. He rose in his stirrups and raised his arm to order his troops to charge. _Elrond be damned and keep thy fading life this day…here stands a greater prize, the Black Exile. Very great shalt be my reward when I bring to my master her flayed skin and her Ring._

And as the howl of his voice rose and his army took their first stride forward onto the upslope, from behind the bright figure upon the crest advanced a line of warriors, bright and fell. Upon their heads they wore tall helms of shining steel, and in their hands they bore deadly long swords which glowed a faint blue in the presence of so many _Yrch_. Full armor they wore, gleaming mail and plate, and shields they bore, upon whose fields were scribed runes of power and the devices of many great houses of the Noldor. And as a vision from some yesteryear long past, in their midst stood a tall king, crowned and armored, and bearing a silver spear.

The front line marched past the single shining figure and then another rank followed. All 'cross the crest of the down their files stretched in a battle front 'nigh on one half of a mile wide. And then came yet another rank and then another. Already the Witch King estimated that 20,000 stood arrayed against him, and in the face of such an army he knew his own would falter.

Thither marched the strength of the _Calaquendi_, the Elves of Light; true _Amanyar_ who had once lived in the Blessed Realm during the Age of the Trees. No such army of that kindred had marched to battle in Middle Earth for o'er 1,400 years, and yet before him was't now arrayed the pride of the Noldor, well 'nigh blinding to his shadow sight. Against such as these, even his own powers would falter, for the Elves felt no fear of his terrors, and he, he could not bear the brilliance of their Holy Light. And then yet another rank advanced to the crest of the down and now he had no advantage in numbers.

_Flee! Flee! Back to Carn Dûm. Flee for thy lives!_

Even as a mortal Man he had been a bully and a coward.

And then the ranks of Angmar broke and turned upon their heels, and they fled trampling their own in their haste, with the Witch King riding wild at their head.

The terror of their undead master was't felt by every soul 'neath his dominion, just as his malice had given them strength aforetime. Behind him, upon the field of battle, the remaining invaders broke and ran as well, dropping their weapons and forgetting all thoughts of conquest. In amazement did the Elves and Men watch 'til 'naught but settling dust remained.

Of them all, only the Lord Elrond had felt the hatred and terror that had screamed out of the north to take them. With his Ring he felt the fear that had come down to each soldier directly from their accursed leader. _And what in Arda could possible terrify one already dead to flight_, he wondered. In their wake his Elvish sight reported but two figures remaining upon the crest of the down past which the soldiery of Angmar had fled. _Hither surely is a piece of future lore. I find I hath…questions._

Upon the second day following the breaking of the siege of Fornost Erain, that being 21 Narbeleth, (October 21st), the creaking of wagon wheels and the clopping of hooves broke the stillness upon the Great North Road. 'Twas a grey day of heavy skies with a biting chill, and snow was't foreseen by the king's soothsayers.

Two figures, hooded and cloaked in mixed greens, rode upon the bench, while'st in the back sat 'naught but a wooden crate. A single grey horse pulled the wagon at a comfortable walk. No escort accompanied this delivery, for both riders bore weapons sufficient for their defense. One played a simple but haunting tune upon a carved wooden flute; the other whistled an absent-minded accompaniment while'st carefully eyeing the road ahead. Some power that she perceived lay before them, well cloaked and yet familiar. Another mile passed, bringing the wagon to a full five leagues south of the fortress of Arthedain.

"Company," whispered the whistler 'twixt breaths ere she resumed her part.

The flutist continued her tune unbroken.

Now from o'er a hill upon the eastern side of the road appeared a mounted company of a dozen Noldor, and from amongst them advanced a single rider upon a white horse with flanks speckled black. The rider cast back the hood of his robe revealing long hair of a deep brown. The armor and trappings of war were gone and save for the sword slung from his saddle he bore now only a silver knife upon his belt.

He nudged his mount onto the road ahead of the wagon and awaited its approach. When 'twas within a dozen paces the wagon came to a halt and the two riders bowed their heads in a respectful greeting.

"Hail and well met, my friends," the horseman said.

"Hail and well met, Lord Elrond," replied the taller elleth from the wagon, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze, "I am surprised to meet thee hither."

Elrond received her words with a smile. Of course she'd sensed his presence for some time.

"Helluin, after thy coup against Angmar, and I hath no doubt thou played some part, I found myself curious."

The two ellith on the wagon bench traded a brief look and shared a chuckle.

"Thou saw not what the Witch King saw, I wager," Helluin said.

"I saw 'naught to send him to flight save the two of thee upon the down 'twixt him and the battle, yet I felt his fear indeed. Now thou art a great warrior of long renown, Helluin, yet I hath still my doubts that the sight of thee only sent him to flight."

"Recall thou my history with him and his personal history as a living Man?" Helluin asked.

Elrond cocked his head, recalling the lore of Prince Tindomul of Númenor and his fall at Pelargir upon Anduin in the year 2003 of the Second Age. He had died upon the blade of the Black Sword of Gondolin.

"Aye, such as thou hast told to me," Elrond replied.

"Then thou shalt understand. I realized that ere falling into Sauron's service he was't of the King's Men of Númenor who shunned those of Elven kind. He believed not the old lore nor studied our history, preferring instead the words of the kings and his own hatred. He understood but poorly, if at all, that when engaged eye to eye we can project into other minds such visions from our memories as we would choose. In Ages past did many understand this enchantment of our people, yet knowledge of us hast dwindled in these latter days. I merely showed the Witch King and his minions the army that Ereinion Gil-galad led down to Dagorlad. Indeed I am amazed that in his terror he marked not the person of the High King front and center in the ranks."

The Lord of Imladris threw back his head and laughed. Helluin had projected the phantasm of a long dead army to terrify the Nazgûl and its troops with a vision of overwhelming opposition, and to one such as he who lived in a world of shadows, mayhaps reality and dream were one and the same. 'Twas well 'nigh brilliant. And then he stopped abruptly and looked closely at Helluin, for he suddenly recalled in full his lore. For her part she felt in that moment the same inquisitive and doubting glance with which her late High King had so oft regarded her. She gulped.

"Helluin, successful as was't thy tactic, I know thou never beheld the army of Gil-galad in the War of the Last Alliance, for ere their march unto Dagorlad thou had sequestered thyself within Mt. Doom in combat with the Nine. Beinvír I know was't in Ithilien commanding the Rangers. Whence came thy memory?"

Helluin and Beinvír shared yet another quick glance, but there was't no escaping the truth of Elrond's words. Neither of them had seen nor held now a firsthand personal memory of what Helluin had projected into the minds of the Witch King and his soldiers.

With a nod of agreement to Elrond the dark Noldo reached behind her and uncovered the crate in the back of the wagon. Thither, from its swaddling of simple straw, she lifted a globe of dark glass streaked with gold. 'Twas smooth of surface and some foot in diameter. At the sight of it Elrond's eyes started from his head.

"By the Valar…" he managed to choke out.

"'Tis the _Palantír of Elostirion_, the one Seeing Stone that looks 'cross time and space. We beseeched and were granted King Araphor's leave to hath it delivered from the Star-Watch Tower. We ride now to return it," Beinvír told him.

"'Twas my plan to command its vision for to conjure the _Sight_ of the Noldorin Host of Eriador of the Last Alliance advancing to battle. Thus I should hath a new memory of my own to force upon the Witch King and his army for their torment," Helluin concluded.

Elrond nodded in thoughtful admiration. 'Twas a tactic well 'nigh brilliant. 'Round them the first flakes of the winter's snow began to drift down from the leaden sky. The three friends looked up to the thickened clouds and felt the damp, chill breeze.

"A hand's width ere supper," the _Peredhel_ remarked.

"Aye, and a hand's length more ere daybreak," the Green Elf added.

"Upon our ways we should be," Helluin said, "for we hath hopes of making the 10 league roadhouse ere dusk."

Elrond nodded to them. Many a mile did he hath to ride ere he saw his own home in the Hidden Valley of Imladris. He turned his mount to depart.

"May the Valar watch o'er thee both, my friends," he said, "and many thanks, Helluin. Most know thee as a deadly warrior possessed of surpassing prowess and wrath, yet 'neath all that is the craftiness of a master tactician. I applaud thee both. This victory belongs to thee."

And with a dip of his head he nudged his horse to a canter and rejoined his company. Soon they had disappeared into the rolling hills to the east of the road.

Beinvír took the reins while'st Helluin repacked the Seeing Stone, and with a few soft words the horse moved into a faster walk than aforetime.

"You told him less than all," the Green Elf chided after some moments.

"'Tis just as well, I deem," Helluin replied, "for all he learns becomes tomorrow's gossip."

"And ne'er hath he made use of a _palantír_, I wager."

"Nay, not to my knowledge," the dark warrior admitted.

"Then no doubt he hath no inkling that rather than seeing thorough the stone as thou had originally planned, thou plucked the memories of Gil-galad's army from his own head like a thief lifting a fruit from a vendor's stall," Beinvír accused with a grin.

"And wherefore better?" Helluin muttered defensively. "He was't _Herald_ to that army and stood before the vanguard, yea, even before his king, as he bore into battle the standard of silver stars on blue, which, mind thou, did not appear in the vision."

Beinvír gave her lover a look of critical scrutiny.

"And whyfore should I hath resorted to some other more questionable vision from the _palantír_ which might hath at any moment shifted or shown forth some aspect undesirable," Helluin self-consciously continued, "when the exact images I sought resided in the mind of one who stood not a furlong distant? A good plan had we aforetime, aye, yet chance blessed us with a better. I merely remained flexible in my tactics."

"I said 'naught," Beinvír averred with a grin.

"Uh-huh," Helluin muttered, unconvinced.

After a few more moments, the Green Elf innocently mused, "Think thou that King Araphor shalt recall 'aught of giving thee his leave to borrow the _palantír_?"

At this, Helluin groaned and shook her head 'nay'.

"Helluin! Thou bewitched the King of Arthedain? With thy _lúthin_**¹** thou rendered him thrall!" Beinvír exclaimed to her beloved with mock horror. Then with a grin she added, "I suspected as much, glassy eyed and drooling as he was't while'st we held counsel with him in Fornost. He seemed…mindlessly agreeable." **¹**(**l****úthin, **_**enchantments**_, pl. Sindarin)

"Bah!" Helluin declared. "All's well that ends well and what he know'th not shan't vex him. He shalt remember 'naught of it save wishing us success in battle." After a pause she added, "Araphor hath now both the stones of Annúminas and Amon Sûl in his keeping at Fornost. Well pleased should he be indeed, for he can'st now speak to himself with ease."

"Indeed," Beinvír commented while'st handing Helluin the reins.

The Green Elf chuckled and regarded her lover askance as she resumed the tune on her flute. South down the road the wagon continued 'neath the falling snow, lugging a treasure of Arthedain as it were a round of farmer's cheese bound for market.

**To Be Continued**


	112. In An Age Before Chapter 112

**Chapter 112**

**Chapter Seventy-two**

_**Fallen Cardolan – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now following the defeat of Angmar in T.A. 1409, 'twas a time of relative peace in Eriador. The Dúnedain of Arthedain worked to heal the damage of war and their folk reclaimed what measure of normality they could. King Araphor reigned for 180 years, and save for some minor skirmishes with the Hillmen of Rhudaur, little bloodshed plagued that land. 'Twas a blessing sorely needed for many had fallen in the wars of Rhudaur, Cardolan and Arthedain, and so the depopulation of the North Kingdom went forward. Long would grow the count of the years ere the majesty of old returned.

Those Dúnedain of Cardolan who had survived now accepted Araphor as their lord, and many served Arthedain at arms, primarily upon the borders, earning thither the trust and esteem of their fellow Men. Yet at heart many longed to liberate their homeland and restore the Kingdom of Cardolan, for the survivors and scions of families whose holdings 'twixt Mitheithel and Baranduin dated back to the days of Elendil would not easily forget whither their roots had long grown deep and their blood had flowed of late. Thus 'twas not unknown for bands of warriors to slip 'cross the border and harry the usurpers of their homes. Two places in particular did they contest such as they could; the hills 'nigh the Great East Road whither Amon Sûl had stood, and the ruined walls and fallen towers of _Cardól_**¹**, once the city of their kings 'nigh the barrows of Tyrn Gorthad. In these enterprises they eventually had some aid, for others with even older claims despised the Hillmen, once pawns of Angmar who, along with a few Easterlings and Dunlendings, now flaunted their holdings in the fallen realm of Cardolan. History recalls that after a time the Cardolanath did repossess their lands, (if not their kingdom…for a time), yet the displacement of the remaining invaders had first to be accomplished. 'Twas now 2 Gwirith (April 2nd), T.A. 1417. **¹****(Cardól, **_**RedHill**_, hypothetical capital of Cardolan, the Red Hill Country. **Cardolan (cardólland) = **_**car**_(red) _**dól**_(head, hill) + _**land**_(open space; level, wide) _The final consonants –nd in Sindarin names are simplified to –n. _Sindarin This geographical placement for Cardolan's capital city derives from Tom Bombadil's history lesson to the Hobbits in LotR Ch 7, pg 128**)**

Labored breathing and the soft sounds of stumbling feet gave testimony to the wary retreat of five exhausted Men to the ruins 'nigh the barrow downs of Tyrn Gorthad. They were the last survivors of a failed raid upon the Road east of Bree. Originally they had numbered a dozen, ranging in age from their early 50s to just o'er 100; Men still in their prime, for these were Dúnedain of Cardolan, and they had once been soldiers of the king. Now they lit no fire, but sought the shadows amongst the rubble and cast themselves down to rest, speaking only softly, for though they deemed they'd put 'nigh a league 'twixt themselves and their pursuers, they had seen strange things this night and their raid had been a disaster.

"Careful we hath been, and yet our plans were known to the enemy," _Thansál_**¹** said to the rest after a few moments catching his breath, "and I see not how this could be." **¹****(Thansál, **_**Firm Shield =** __**than**_(shield) + _**thál**_(steady, firm) Sindarin _Consonant changes at the partitions of Sindarin names include the substitution of _–th _with _–s.**)**

He shook his head and set aside his spear. O'er half their company slain in but a few minutes of disastrous combat; Men he had known since the war, good soldiers all.

"I know not either. Save ourselves, none knew 'aught of our plans," _Dorondon_**¹** their scout agreed. "We moved in stealth, met none, spoke to none, and lit no fires after crossing the border." **¹****(Dorondon, **_**Tall Oak = doron**_(oak tree) _**+ tond**_(tall) Sindarin _In multisyllabic Sindarin names a final _–nd_ is simplified to _–n. _Consonant changes at the partitions of Sindarin names include the substitution of _–t _with _–d, _so_ tond _becomes _don.**)**

Wide berth they had given all settlements and homesteads, and once in Cardolan, n'er had they approached the Road until they attacked.

"Yet it seemed the _dúrashoth_**¹ **expected us and their numbers wrought slaughter upon us, curse them to _udún_," _Angadan_**²** spat, his clenched fists shaking with rage.** ¹****(dúrashoth, **_**people of darkness = **__**dúr**_(dark) _**+ -as**_(noun on adj suff, –ness, _darkness_) _**+ hoth**_(people), pejorative for Hillmen holding Cardolan and Rhudaur, insinuating that they descended from the Men who served Morgoth during the First Age. Sindarin) **²****(Angadan, **_**Iron Man = ang**_(iron)_** + adan**_(man of the 3 houses of Elf friends) Sindarin**)**

"Loath am I to speak ill of the dead, yet perhaps 'twas one of our slain who whispered 'aught which passed thence to unfriendly ears," said _Drammor_**¹ **who was't youngest amongst the survivors, "though all the company was't sworn to silence."** ¹****(Drammor, **_**(lit. Striker/Hitter), ver. Fighter = drammo-**_(strike, hit) _**+ -or**_(masc agent suff., noun on verb) Sindarin**) **

"I can think of none amongst us more likely than any other to hath spoken thus, for all knew the gravity of our course and their own lives were at stake," said their leader, _Húngan_**¹**. "'Tis more likely just mischance…being espied by foes while'st unawares, or our passage marked by one afield, a hunter perhaps, who chanced to cross our trail." **¹****(Húngan, **_**Bold Heart = **__**hún**_(heart) _**cand**_(bold) Sindarin _Consonant changes at the partitions of Sindarin names include the substitution of _–c _with _–g. _In multisyllabic Sindarin names a final _–nd_ is simplified to _–n.**)**

"Aye, 'tis more likely, my lord," Thansál agreed with resignation, "and just as likely that we shalt n'er know."

"And now that _ulund melch_**¹ **hath collected his tribute once again, hard won by our brothers in Bree so shortly after winter's passing,"Angadan carped.** ¹****(ulund melch, **_**greedy freak = **__**ulund**_(deformed monster) _**+ melch**_(greedy) Sindarin**)**

For a while they sat in silence, each with his own thoughts.

"Alas for our brothers lost this night," Dorondon whispered. "The blood of Cardolan flows a bit more each day. 'Tis hard to keep hope. May the Valar hath pity upon us."

He set the quiver of arrows he'd been counting 'cross his knees and looked up at the stars far above. Bright they seemed against the dark of the sky upon this night with Ithil showing but a slim crescent. Too dark indeed for him to be sure of his shooting after they'd been ambushed.

The scout thought back to those fateful moments. They'd attacked the wagon and its dozen guards, but a larger company of foes had lain concealed 'cross the Road, waiting for their own company to break cover. 'Twas as if they'd known just whither the attack would occur. Seven of his comrades had been slain in minutes. By all rights they should hath been slain to the last, and yet…five had escaped. He could only be sure of the guard his carefully aimed first arrow had taken just as the attack had started, and he'd fired only thrice ere drawing his sword. Then the order to retreat had sent them to flight with arrows whizzing past and 'nigh on four dozen foemen charging after them. Many times he had been in combat and this engagement didn't feel right.

"Drammor, how many did thou shoot this night?" Dorondon asked their only other surviving archer.

After a moment's thought, the younger soldier replied, "two only for sure, the wagon driver next to the guard thou shot, and the second guard upon the near side of the wagon a moment later. After that 'twas chaos. I fired again but am not sure of a fatal hit."

Three only could they tally for certain out of perhaps sixty total. He guessed their company had slain no more than a dozen all told. Why had they not been pursued to their deaths? The chase had lasted not even two furlongs.

"I understand not why they gave up the chase so soon, nor why they allowed us the chance to flee," the scout said. "In their place I would hath hunted all down to their deaths."

"As would I," Húngan agreed.

"I recall one of them shot down and he not two fathoms behind me," Thansál said. "I thought 'twas to one of thee that I owed my life this night."

"'Twas not I," Dorondon said.

"Nor I," said Drammor.

"Stranger then shalt this seem," Angadan added, "for being last in flight, I chanced a glance behind for to gauge the pursuit. I saw several falling as they charged past the wagon. Others lay dead behind them upon the Road, and these I recall not seeing when first we fled."

Now the survivors sat again in silence, each recalling the night's combat and marking such details as seemed awry. After a time, Húngan asked the opinion of his soldiers.

"As we fled I noted many cries and shouts from the enemy. At the time I thought them war-cries meant to give us fright and each other courage, yet now I wonder. Indeed the more I think on it, the more I deem those cries to hath conveyed dismay and pain. What doth thy memories tell thee?"

The leader looked 'round the circle of his Men.

"I am unsure," Thansál said.

"I too am unsure," Drammor said.

"For myself, I cannot be sure, though t'would explain the lack of pursuit. Think thou that even as they had ambushed and slaughtered us, that they themselves were taken in ambush and slaughtered in turn?" asked Dorondon. "And if so, then by whom?"

"Mete t'would hath been if 'twas so," Angadan said, "and I should question not such a boon, but give thanks instead."

Húngan nodded to himself. Perhaps 'twas 'naught but his own wishful thinking.

"Let us take some rest then. Two hour watches 'round the circle doesil**¹**," he ordered, eyeing each Man in turn beginning with the scout, Dorondon, whom he deemed the sharpest. At their nods he leaned back against the stones of a fallen wall and closed his eyes. His own turn would come third. ** ¹****(doesil - **_clockwise_**)**

For a while he thought upon another turn of luck. In the third night of the battle for Fornost, his first fight in the service of Arthedain after Cardolan was't o'errun, an arrow had taken the _Orch_ that had been poised to run him through after his foot had slid away in the mud. That shot had passed through the scant space 'twixt his own head and that of the Man next to him to strike the _Orch_ perfectly in the eye. His awe at some comrade's archery had lasted only moments ere he'd been caught up again in the fighting.

It seemed he'd but closed his eyes moments before when a gentle shake of his shoulder woke him and he heard Angadan's voice softly report, "all's quiet, my lord, as 'twas for Dorondon before me."

With a nod and a quick quirk of his lip, neither a true smile nor a grin, he rose and moved to the gap in the wall which had once been a doorway. Soon he noted the stilling of Angadan's movements and the deeper breathing of his sleep amongst the stones behind. His own senses sharpened in the quiet of the night as full wakefulness came and his concentration deepened. He quickly checked the stars and then carefully scanned their surroundings, but marked 'naught out of place amongst the ruins.

_How oft hath I stood a night's watch, _he thought to himself. _O'er four score of my five score years I hath been at war and I see no end to it ere my life is done._

"It n'er ends, good soldier of Cardolan…from Age unto Age the war goes ever on."

The whisper had come so softly that 'twas moments ere he realized another had spoken at all and 'twas not just his own mind answering itself. _A woman's voice…and sad._

In a heartbeat he was't on his feet with sword drawn, turning in a circle to view all quarters, but 'naught did he see save his own sleeping Men. _A whisper from beyond the grave perhaps…some lost daughter of our own folk, restless upon this dark night?_

With all his will he commanded his eyes to see into the depths of shadows and desperately he sought for movement amongst the further ruins, for their very lives depended upon it, but still he saw 'naught out of place. For long minutes he searched, turning, checking corners, shifting focus from near to far, but not a living soul could he find anywhere. _Whence…?_

Yet finally, when he could discern no presence, he sheathed his sword and took his seat, wary now, the hairs upon the back of his neck tingling with anticipation. _Jumpy am I this night and my imagination runs free like that of a new recruit._ Deep breaths he took to settle himself. And ever his eyes searched all 'round, hoping to find the speaker, yet hoping at the same time not to. _Rather would I deem myself mad than fail at my post and bring death upon my Men. Let us not be discovered, I pray, for friends hither art few._

"Long hast it been since thou was't discovered, yet friends art not so few as thou deem," came the whisper.

Again Húngan leapt to his feet and his sword was't in his hand, yet even as he drew he marked the faintest blue of eyes 'nigh his shoulder and a figure tall and dark and knew he was't lost. The enemy was't upon him and already far too close…easily within range to thrust a dagger into his gut. Yet the sharp pain and the feel of cold steel piercing his body came not. Instead, the blue eyes grew brighter, but their position held, two feet before him past the blade of his sword, now held defensively cross his body. Off to his side, his Men were leaping to their feet and taking up their weapons. _Thou hast missed thy chance stranger, and now, being alone, 'tis thou who shalt be taken._

Yet even as he thought it he saw movement all 'round their company. In the blink of an eye figures rose from shadows and behind stones, so many and so close, and each cloaked figure held a drawn bow, but the arrows were pointed up and not at living targets. Surely they numbered no fewer than three dozens. _We art doomed! So be it. Yet thou shalt not slay us unfought._

"Peace, soldiers of Cardolan," the blue-eyed stranger said, whispering no longer, but speaking for all to hear, "for thy enemies art slain and thou art safe this night. Four score years thou hath been at war, O Húngan? At war we hath been for three Ages of this world, and t'would seem that once again our foes art the same."

Past the five soldiers of Cardolan, in what had once been the first hall of a fine mansion, sparks quickly kindled a fire 'twixt fallen stones, as close a thing to a trench fire as might be in a paved space, and thither stood another cloaked figure, slender and shorter than the first. When Húngan looked back, the archers were not to be seen.

"Come now and join us," the tall blue-eyed figure said as she moved to join the other at the fire. "Fear not that any shalt mark us, for this night 'tis as though the walls of Cardól still stand. We hath food and drink and much to speak of."

Now 'twas for many moments that Húngan and his Men stood motionless, but the two at the fire cast back their cloaks and they saw that they were Elvish folk. In all the tales they could recall, n'er had such been foes of their people. It seemed now apparent by whose arrows they had been delivered from the ambush upon the Road, and the arrows of the archers just moments aforetime had not been aimed at them, at least so long as they'd made no move to assail the elleth who'd first greeted them.

With a shrug, Húngan sheathed his sword and walked towards the fire. One by one, Thansál, Drammor, Dorondon and Angadan did likewise, and soon there were seven figures seated 'round the cheery flames, warming their hands as a pot of stew came to simmer and a skin of wine was't passed 'twixt them. Far into the night they spoke, and after introductions were made all 'round, 'twas to business they passed, and the ways of war, and a plan to give to the Cardolanath the tools and skills for to drive hence the usurpers of their homeland.

"'Twas in 1847 of the Second Age of this world that we took up residence in Lebennin," Helluin told them as the night grew old, "and thither we schooled the warriors of that land to the stealth and ways of war of my beloved's people. Long did the Men of that country rule their own affairs in freedom, and even when in later years they pledged allegiance to the new-come lords from o'er the Sea, still their own identity did they maintain. To this day they art faithful allies of the South Kingdom, and in the last great war, they served King Anárion and King Meneldil as Rangers in Ithilien, denying the Dark Lord passage of his arms and troops, and aiding in the siege of Minas Ithil."

"My folk marked thy company ere they left Arthedain," Beinvír told them, "and kept track of thee from a distance by the occasional flashes from such metal tokens as thou bear which reflected hence the light of Anor…buckles, badges, buttons, sword fittings, dagger pommels and such. I deem the Hillmen did likewise, for their senses art keen, having originally lived 'nigh the Hithaeglir and under threat by the _Yrch_. Of tonight's tragedy I shalt say that my folk were drawn off east when an unforeseen chance to act presented itself, and thy attack came earlier than hoped…ere our strength could be regrouped thither. Still, those few remaining were able to win thy freedom."

"The three dozen-odd we saw hither?" Dorondon asked.

Here Helluin gave him a cold grin.

"Nay," the Green Elf answered, "for all those went east to slay the _ulund melch_ and some two hundreds of his soldiers, including a company of _Yrch_. Helluin and myself and two others shot some ten each as we ran, keeping pace with thee, 'til the toll was't sufficient to force the remainder to give up the chase. Those last were slain when they came to the Road as my folk returned, ere they rejoined us hither while'st thou slept."

"Word hast been sent to Bree, telling of this night's deeds, and that folk shalt repossess such as they were forced to pay aforetime," Helluin told them, "and glad they shalt be, I deem, for a sheep grows but one fleece a year and the wagon held many."

'Twas with wonder and rejoicing that the survivors accepted these tidings. And later, as the dawn drew 'nigh, the five Men of Cardolan accepted the offer of aid and training the two ellith made. So began the long tradition of fighting by stealth and of hidden strength and silent hope that would last in the North Kingdom through all the dark years to come. The way of the Rangers of Arnor was't first born in fallen Cardolan, but it persisted and in latter days 'twas taught to Aranarth son of Arvedui and his folk for to preserve the north 'til the King came again.

The training began the very next day.

"Húngan son of Baragund, who was't cousin to Mallar, last King of Cardolan, I presume not to command thee or thy Men," Helluin said as they spoke in the morning ere the training began, "but I hath fought in Middle Earth 'nigh on 5,500 years and few know better the arts of war. Beinvír was't born of the Laiquendi, a folk of such stealth and woodscraft that they art unknown to those who hath lived 'nigh them in Eriador through the past two Ages. In the war of 1409, the Dúnedain slew perhaps twelve thousands of the enemy. The Laiquendi slew more though few know 'aught of it, for they art ever unseen by friend and foe alike. I shalt tell thee this though, my lord; thrice in twenty years hath thy life been saved by their bows. Once upon thy retreat 'cross the Weather Hills from the battle of Amon Sûl, once in the battle of Fornost, and again this night past.

Thou seek now to fight a war of stealth rather than of massed ranks and files as the Dúnedain hath favored since Ciryatur brought his armies to the aid of Gil-galad long ago. In this kind of fighting, none upon Middle Earth exceed the Green Elves. Much we can teach thee and thy Men, but mark this. With thee or without thee, in two score years at most, the enemy shalt be gone, and either thy folk shalt hath again their homes, or the land shalt lie empty."

Beside her, Beinvír nodded in agreement. _More a hindrance than a help art they, _Tórferedir had told her in exasperation not three days past, _save perhaps that at times their actions mask our own. I can fathom not what Mithrandir sees in this Man._

"With great thanks thy teachings I would hath," Húngan replied, "yet whether with or without them we shalt fight for our lands, even if 'tis only the Laiquendi who live to enjoy their liberation."

At this the two ellith grinned.

"Then first I bid thee put off or deaden to sight all bright metals, and pad any such as would contact another," Beinvír began, "so that neither a reflection nor a sound betray thee."

At summer's end, 30 Ivanneth, (September 30th), a full company of thirty Rangers of Cardolan in training, clad in cloaks, tunics and pants of mixed greens and bearing bows, swords and daggers moved quietly through the night to take up positions encircling a country mansion. Within it they could hear the revels of a large gathering of Hillmen and their guests. None of the pacing guards saw 'aught of them, for though their stealth was't still far from that of the Green Elves, 'twas sufficient to confound the sight of inattentive mortals. Hours they lay in wait, through the feasting and the drinking that followed, 'til midnight was't 'nigh.

Then into the yard came the household and the guests, Easterlings once in the service of Angmar. To a pyre already laid they came, and gathering 'round it, lit the oiled wood for to start the ceremony to their god of fire far in the East. Animals were brought in lieu of the prisoners they'd hath sacrificed at home, and the first of these, a fine blue roan mare, was't hauled forth and tied to the altar of slaughter. In the firelight the Cardolanath could see the terrified whites of her eyes. Behind them in the dark, the guards fell one by one.

Now the chief of the Easterlings came forth with a long and cruel knife for to slice her throat that her blood should consecrate their altar, but even as the blade rose for the stroke he was't pitched backwards, an arrow in his right eye.

Then for the next few minutes arrows flew and the Hillmen and the Easterlings fell, yet none were seen shooting for they remained hidden to all. And though a few of the enemy needed a second arrow to end their screaming and their thrashing, still 'twas not long 'til all lay slain and silence reigned at last. Of the Rangers, not a one bore a wound, for n'er had they closed with their enemies.

Finally into the yard strode three figures, two ellith and a Man of Cardolan. The two quickly inspected the dead, but the Man walked slowly to the horse, speaking softly, and coming to her, gentled her with his words and calmed her panic with his hands, and when she had stilled, he untied her lead from the altar and walked her away to the edge of the firelight.

One by one he loosed the other sacrificial animals as well, and it seemed that they came and stood in a group before him, paying heed to his words, yet he only bade them go and be free and roam the land as they willed. Then with a glance back at the home he had once known in peace long ago, he turned away and rejoined his Men in the shadows ere they began their trek back to their base amongst the ruins of Cardól, for to further refine their war craft.

For years the raids continued, most oft with great success, freeing one by one the manors and holdings of Cardolan. The count of the Rangers grew; one hundred in the spring of 1419, three hundreds by autumn of 1422, and by the summer of 1425, a full five hundreds, each under the command of one of the original five soldiers of Cardolan that Helluin and Beinvír had met that fateful night. By then it had been years since any foe had dared to tread the Road 'twixt Bree Hill and Baranduin, and all the lands from Arthedain to the Weather Hills and south to the road from Sarn Ford were undisputed. Long had the labors of the Cardolanath seemed, yet they bore an increasing yield of fruit. Now Hillmen were seen fleeing north to Rhudaur through the Lone-lands.

Great had been the rejoicing upon mid-summer's day in 1424 when the Hillmen were finally driven from the ruins of Amon Sûl. To the north upon the Weather Hills two days later, Húngan's Rangers had met with soldiers of Arthedain, and word of what had come to pass was't sent to King Araphor in Fornost and the king thought deeply on the tidings he had heard. One month later, upon 25 Cerveth (July 25th), one hundred soldiers of Arthedain came to the ruins of Cardól to offer their services and deliver a message.

"My lord, King Araphor rejoices in thy victory and supports thy campaign. A fortnight past he asked for volunteers and well 'nigh every soldier of Cardolan in his service put forth their names. Of these he chose five score at once and released them to serve with thy Rangers henceforth. More shalt come after. He asks only that once the realm of Cardolan is free of the leavings of Angmar that thou stand as his Regent for Cardolan and govern hither 'neath the crown of the North Kingdom."

Húngan's eyes nearly started from his head at the words. A tall figure came to stand beside him, offering counsel softly spoken.

"'Tis a good turn, my lord, for additional fighters shalt be welcome and they need not desert now for they hath leave of their king," Helluin said.

"He…he hath named me Regent pending?" The shocked man said, still not believing what he'd heard.

"Had thou intended to name thyself King of Cardolan?" Helluin asked with a chuckle.

"I…no…no! I wanted only to see my people returned to their homes and our land free and again at peace!" he sputtered.

"'Tis just as well then, for Araphor alone is of the line of Isildur," Helluin said with a wink, "and he hast not offered to return the _palantír_ to Amon Sûl."

At this, Húngan very nearly choked.

"Amon Sûl is a ruin still and whatever would I do with that stone anyway? The notion of such a _gúl_**¹** well 'nigh terrifies me."** ¹****(gúl, **_**sorcery**_, but without the dark connotation of _mórgúl_ Sindarin**)**

The Noldo laughed as Beinvír came to join them. Smiling, she sketched a courtly bow.

"My lord, I am happy to report that the lands south of the old road from Sarn Ford to Tharbad hath been freed of Hillmen by my people. But a week past the last fled east, crossing the Gwathlo from Minhiriath into Dunland. Now thy foes remain only in the lands 'nigh Mitheithel and south of the East Road, less than the quarter part of thy realm, Lord Regent."

A broad smile grew on Húngan's face.

"Two years and maybe less shalt see the last of them gone," he guessed, "but what if they cross Mitheithel into the lands of Hollin? Well 'nigh none live thither in these days…indeed 'twas so ere Cardolan fell."

Suddenly grim, Helluin answered, and her voice was't as cold as her eyes.

"For long few hath seemed to live in Hollin, yet even the _Yrch_ avoid that land. Any foes coming thither shalt be exterminated."

Now the Rangers of Cardolan returned to their labors, driving the Hillmen before them to Rhudaur. Thither they fled, daring not to cross Mitheithel into the Elvish lands of old for they deemed them cursed; some unseen terror had long dwelt in that country.

And it came to pass that by the spring of T.A. 1427, the land of Cardolan was't again free of the leavings of Angmar and its folk began to return. Yet they had suffered much in the war eighteen years aforetime and they had become few in number. Most returned to farms and holdings outside the cities, for the city folk had borne the brunt of Angmar's assault and fewer had survived than in the country. So 'twas that Cardól and Amon Sûl were not rebuilt, but remained in ruin through all the rest of the Third Age of the Sun until the greater kingdom of Arnor rose again.

Some 90 leagues to the east in a camp 'nigh Hollin Ridge, an old Man in gray robes closed his eyes and gave thanks for the words a messenger of the Green Elves had just brought to his king.

"Well pleased thou should be, I deem, for the Lord Húngan now rules the land of Cardolan," Dálindir said, "just as thou said he must."

"I am pleased," Mithrandir replied, "that Lord Húngan rules. More pleased am I that he lives, and far more pleased still that he hath learnt the ways of a Ranger."

"As usual I understand not thy wiles," the King of the Laiquendi said with a chuckle, "yet after knowing thee now for o'er four hundred years, I understand thou art no Dúnedain as first I had thought, for even they live not so long unchanged to the eye. Too, thou hast both deep wisdom and foresight, neither being gifts oft bestowed by the One upon Mortal Men. Therefore, share 'aught of thy counsel, I pray thee, for I find myself baffled. Cardolan can'st withstand not even a weak assault again from Angmar; its people art too few, and no heir of Isildur survives thither."

The old Man in gray chuckled, but as ever, he took pity upon his host.

"Cardolan shalt indeed fall again. Of the Lord Húngan, I suspect that some son of his house shalt in future days render great service to the cause of good, yet what is most important is that our two friends hath conveyed to the Men of Arnor thy warcraft and somewhat of thy woodscraft. That way of fighting would not be so welcome in Arthedain, for they still rely on numbers and strength of arms, yet the time shalt come when such shalt no longer suffice, and at that time, the way of the Ranger shalt be the way that saves the blood of the North Kingdom. You see, my friend, this war shalt be very long and the days ahead very dark for Men. Perhaps they shalt fail indeed, yet now I hath faith that they stand at least a chance to endure to the final victory."

And of the Lord Húngan son of Baragund, cousin of Mallar, the last King of Cardolan, he now took up the office of Regent of Cardolan 'neath the crown of Arthedain, and upon 30 Ivanneth T.A. 1427 he returned to a mansion he had once known in time of peace long years before, whereat the last remains of a fire could still be discerned in the yard, and thither he was't greeted by the wickers of a blue roan mare.

**To Be Continued**


	113. In An Age Before Chapter 113

**Chapter 113**

**Chapter Seventy-three **

_**Lórinand – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now it came to pass that in the year T.A. 1431, Helluin and Beinvír were for a time the guests of King Amroth, for they had come east o'er Caradhras to Lórinand, intending to tarry for a time 'neath the mellyrn trees. Having seen to the restoration of Cardolan, they felt the time now ripe to travel once again. King Amroth was't a friend of old whom they had not seen in 'nigh on 430 years, and other friends too, such as Haldir and his brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, they desired to visit. So 'twas that the soulmates arrived in the early autumn, in time to see the mellyrn leaves change to gold, so to bathe the forest in golden light reflected all through the months of winter.

'Twas pleasure for them to travel at their leisure rather than upon a mission, and they took their time, camping for a day or a week as the notion took them. 'Nigh on a fortnight they spent passing down the Dimrill Stair, which the Elves call Nanduhirion and the Naugrim called Azanulbizar. The many falls at the headwaters upon the mountain's side blessed their nights with the music of rushing water in which they could hear the rumor of the whispers of the Lord Ulmo. Coming from the misty glen 'nigh the great East Gate of Khazad-dûm, they stopped to trade tidings with the guardians posted thither, but having declared themselves, declined to visit the mansions and halls of Durin's folk at that time.

By coincidence at that time, formed up upon the road, stood a company of traders, bound for the lowlands. These carried goods of Khazad-Dûm up and down the banks of Anduin along the length of Greenwood, which many in Rhovanion were now calling Mirkwood, to barter with the settlers ere making their way through the forest upon the Men i-Naugrim**¹**. This entered south of Rhosgoble and traversed the forest east-west to the south of the Emyn Duir**²**, which had been renamed the Emyn-nu-Fuin**³**. Goods of Dwarf make came thus to the realm of King Thranduil. To the east, the road exited the forest with the River Celduin, and the traders would range up and down it, north to Esgaroth and even Dale, east to the lands of the North Men, and south-east even so far as Dorwinion. **¹****(Men i-Naugrim, **_**Way of the Dwarves**_ Sindarin; called the Old Forest Road in the Common Tongue**)**** ²****(Emyn Duir, **_**Dark Mountains**_ Sindarin; the old name for the Mountains of Greenwood**)**** ³****(Emyn-nu-Fuin, **_**Mountains of Mirkwood**_; new name given following the arrival of the Sorcerer of Dol Gúldúr in T.A. 1000**)**

In time of peace throughout the Second and Third Ages, and perhaps during the First Age as well, the traders of Khazad-Dûm brought things of fine workmanship throughout Wilderland. Just as importantly, they spread tidings and carried messages, knitting together this wide and diverse land, and gaining the goodwill and friendship of many folk in many places. Some of the traders now hailed the two ellith, offering goods they knew the travelers could not carry and jesting with them in good nature. The Elves replied in kind, offering 'aught that both sides knew they could not deliver, and so they parted in friendship and good humor.

Leaving the Azanulbizar Gate by the wide Dwarf Road, Helluin and Beinvír paid a brief stop at Durin's Stone, to look into Kheled-zâram, the Mirrormere, but that vision had always made the Green Elf uneasy and so they soon resumed their way.

Now the Dwarf Road began as an imposing way, graded and paved, with curb and drain channels, which ran downhill along the western bank of Celebrant. O'er its course it narrowed and became simpler, finding a width of one plain paved lane by the time it crossed the Nimrodel. Thereafter it continued a ways ere it faded to a dirt track in the grassland south of Lórinand.

Shortly after leaving the Mirrormere, Helluin and Beinvír passed the deep upwelling pool from which Celebrant arises, clear and shocking cold, its downhill verge set with a lip of stone to control erosion, and being as Anor was't in the west, they set a camp and spent the night. Thither the land was't still high and their eye point stood above the trees downstream, offering a wide view of the night sky, alight with a billion stars.

"The Lady Varda blesses us this night," Beinvír whispered as she looked up from her ground cloth of hyrax pelts, "and Manwë's airs art clear. I deem that no more could we see were we upon the high talan of a great ship of Númenor, running before the wind."

The words brought many sweet memories to them both of nights long past, and one in particular, spent blazing with Light far above the deck of the _Valacirca_ in 1601 of the Second Age. Helluin turned from the starry night sky and the movement of her head drew Beinvír's glance. And now they stared into each others' eyes not a hand's length apart, and captured thus and full-willing, their arms reached out to enfolded each other and their bodies met in an embrace that brought together not only their flesh, but their spirits as well in a way no mortal can attain. Soon armor and weapons and clothing lay abandoned upon the ground.

None stood 'nigh to hear their soft moans of pleasure as long familiar hands offered intimate caresses and warm lips met in kisses that affirmed a love long acknowledged and long returned. Thus their _fëar_ entwined as ardently as their bodies; closer and closer their spirits came even as their flesh could come no closer, and eventually the bliss that o'erwhelmed them with the climax of their _hroar_ became eclipsed by the melding of their spirits. Then for a while they soared in the union of their love upon planes both physical and spiritual, and the manifestation was't the _ríl_ of silver and gold that burned upon the lower slopes of the Dimrill Stair in the dark of the night.

Above them the guards at Azanulbizar Gate wondered what such illumination might portend, for though 'twas wholly unknown to them, they felt no threat, but rather both exhilaration and peace. But downhill upon the verges of Lórinand, border guards smiled and made ready to greet friends long sundered.

Now in the morn the ellith rose and continued their way south down the Dwarf Road that ran alongside Celebrant. 'Nigh noon they rested beside a stream which ran down from the slopes to the southwest, and thither they shared a frugal meal ere crossing the stream and continuing upon their way.

So their march passed without event as Anor crossed the sky o'erhead and the arms of the dale grew lower upon either side until, 'round mid-afternoon, they passed 'neath the outlying trunks of the westernmost mellyrn and came to the Nimrodel Bridge. This was't a surprise to them, for so far as they knew, the shapely stone span had not stood upon their last visit in T.A. 1002. Yet now the road continued 'cross the bridge while'st the waters of Nimrodel tumbled and sang 'neath them ere joining Celebrant.

Somewhere off to the south, and at no great distance, lay the Falls of Nimrodel which Helluin and Beinvír did not intend to visit, for 'nigh to it was't the talan of the high-strung Lady Nimrodel, whom they had met in 1002 and whom they considered bizarre. That the king so strongly favored her, indeed was't beyond enamored with her to the point of craving to wed her, left them shaking their heads, for they considered Amroth to be in all other matters, a sane and just monarch.

"T'would seem the banks hath grown themself a bridge," Beinvír remarked with a smile as they stood upon the span and watched the waters pass below.

"Indeed," Helluin replied, regarding the masonry with a more critical eye, "and whither came the stones, I wonder? Little enough of blocks hath the Galadrim in their wood, and little skill at their shaping. 'Tis more rightly the craft of the Dwarves, yet this span shows none of their preference for massive and imposing constructions. Huh."

"To the eye it reminds me more of such as span the streams in Imladris," the Green Elf observed, "yet the Hidden Valley is a long ways off. Had the Lord Elrond sent forth craftsmen for the building of a bridge upon the east side of the Hithaeglir, I think we would'st hath heard 'aught of it aforetime."

"T'would be a strange thing to me too if such had come to pass. The Galadrim hath ever distrusted the Noldor, perhaps more so after the Last Alliance," Helluin said, "yet what Lórinand could hath bartered with Khazad-dûm for their labor, I know not. Aforetime neither had 'aught that the other wanted, or so both sides thought."

"We shalt ask after it in Lórinand," Beinvír decided, "and I deem t'will be a tale worth hearing." She then turned to listen to the falls of Nimrodel off to their south. "Another tale I should like to hear is if Amroth hath indeed wedded the Lady Nimrodel, for we hath heard 'naught of Thranduil wedding Inthuiril."

At the mention of both names, Helluin groaned. Nimrodel had proven the adage of life as theater, while'st Inthuiril had endangered both her own life and Helluin's at Dol Gúldúr. _Perhaps we should just pass Lórinand by and make our way straight to Mordor._

Yet even as she thought it, they were hailed from the forest. Thither came Haldir and a dozen other of the Galadrim with words of greeting and smiles of mirth.

"Helluin…Beinvír, most luminous of friends, 'tis good to see thee safe, for last night came such flashes and lights from the uphill road as to make some fear the onslaught of a dragon," the border guard offered with a straight face o'er the snickers of his troops. "I trust thou hath found thy trek…exciting?"

"Highly arousing, going down yonder cleft after scaling peaked and rigid heights," Helluin began, while'st gesturing vaguely uphill, "abundant moisture seeping from the depths o'er a wet lip…ummmph!"

Already blushing scarlet, the Green Elf had kicked her in the shin, though her greave turned any hurt.

"'Twas very pleasant," Beinvír said hastily, "save that we hath found both a bridge and a troll to go with it whither 'naught had stood aforetime. Pray tell, was't this span a gift of troth from Amroth to Lady Nimrodel?"

Struggling to maintain his composure, Haldir shook his head 'nay'.

'Twas the work of the Naugrim for to ease the passage of their traders down the road," he told her. "Being 'nigh our lands, they built it after a fashion some tales recalled of Ost-In-Edhil. 'Twas a gesture of goodwill.

Of the king and the lady, 'tis much longing upon the one hand and many excuses upon the other, though in truth 'tis plain that Nimrodel hath deep feelings for our lord. So all wait for them to reach agreement. In the meantime, our king hath decreed yonder stream and falls shalt bear his beloved's name."

To this the two ellith nodded, though the Green Elf subtly rolled her eyes and the Noldo grimaced. The south tributary of Celebrant would ever after bear the name Nimrodel.

"And hath any news come from Calenglad i'Dhaer of Thranduil and Inthuiril?" Beinvír asked next.

"Nay, none we hath heard."

The Green Elf sighed and shook her head. _'Twas so with Elrond and Celebrían as well…courtship as a way of life, the nuptials long delayed. Why so amongst royals?_

For her part, Helluin stifled a sigh of relief. Amroth's infatuation with the vacuous Nimrodel she could fathom not. Thranduil at least had given his heart to one showing promise. Inthuiril had been far more sane once she'd ceased her incessant questioning and reflected a moment upon her life.

"So, all stands well and little changed in Lórinand?" she asked.

"Save for those lost in the war with Angmar, most see it so," Haldir answered. Then, thinking back on the war, he gave the Green Elf a close look. "Upon our way to Fornost, the Lord Elrond hinted somewhat about thy folk, Beinvír, yet I saw them not."

"Thou saw their work, no doubt," Beinvír answered. "_Yrch_ and evil Men slain by arrows none were seen to hath shot? Foes fallen in battle with only a shaft in their eye or heart? The lack of any invaders coming from Cardolan?"

Haldir and several others in his company nodded agreement.

"Such things we hath seen, yet in the confusion of battle 'twas little pondered o'er at the time," he said. "In truth more surprised were we to be sent thither at all, for sorrow still haunts King Amroth from the days of the Last Alliance."

Helluin and Beinvír bowed their heads in acknowledgement of the many fallen. The War of the Last Alliance had been bitter for the Galadrim. In the land of Mordor they had lost Amroth's father Amdír, who had long been their king, and o'er half their warriors ere Sauron was't thrown down. The only other Nandor force, their cousins in Calenglad i'Dhaer, had fared even worse.

"'Twas a measure of thy lord's nobility that he again sent forth aid to the Noldor and their Dúnedain allies," Helluin said. "We remember that thy lord came from Lórinand to Eregion in time of war long ago, when Celebrimbor was't slain and Ost-in-Edhil laid waste."

"'Twas to the relief of the Lord Celeborn and those of our folk he led first to battle in Eriador that Amroth took troops o'er the Hithaeglir then," Haldir said, "and 'twas with counsel of the Lord Celeborn that King Amroth agreed to send troops in 1409. Long hath they been friends. Indeed Celeborn had known Amdír from Doriath…and King Oropher too."

At the mention of Thranduil's father, Helluin grew grim. In 3410 of the Second Age she had convinced the late King of Calenglad i'Dhaer to join the Last Alliance and go to war, and still she felt responsible for his death in Mordor. Facing Amroth after his father had fallen was't uncomfortable too, but she had not offered and labored to train the warriors of Lórinand as she had the warriors of Greenwood. Knowing Helluin's train of thought, the Green Elf too fell silent, feeling the sadness and guilt that held her beloved estranged from a noble friend and all the folk of his realm.

After an o'erly long and increasingly awkward silence following the death of the conversation, Haldir reverted to duty changed the topic.

Being a border guard, he asked, "so, whither art thou bound?" something the Laiquendi would n'er do.

"We hath no mission for now," Beinvír told him, "and so travel at our leisure. To enjoy thy wood we hath come, and thereafter some other destination we shalt decide."

At this, a broad smile graced the border guard's face.

"Then glad for thy company we shalt be, and t'would be our pleasure to accompany thee to the city."

"And we shalt be happy to hath thy company, old friend," Helluin replied.

"Shalt we be on our way then?" Haldir asked.

The two ellith nodded 'yea' and the company prepared to make their way east, but one of the guards reminded his captain, "we hath a duty to discharge 'nigh the border."

Upon hearing his words, Haldir stifled a groan, but informed his guests, "My friends, a short detour we must take ere we return to Caras Galadon."

At the questioning look from Helluin he said 'naught, but shook his head and started into the woods heading south. With a sense of foreboding, the Noldo realized they were making for the Falls of Nimrodel.

Now the company made their way through a pleasant wood with the song of running water ever upon their right. In truth the walk was't short, barely one-half of an hour, yet to Helluin who was't expecting the worst, it seemed both too short and too long. So they came to the falls, and the Noldo sought upon the bank for the flet of Nimrodel. She quickly espied the garden of wildflowers and what appeared to be the very same wrought iron table and chairs 'neath it at which she had once served a lady's tea. The path of river stones leading to it seemed unchanged as well. Yet when she sought for the two upright logs and the talan set a fathom high upon them at the verge of the falls, she found 'naught. The whole construction was't absent.

It seemed the Green Elf was't similarly perplexed.

"Haldir, what hast become of the lady's abode, pray tell?" Beinvír asked. "The grounds appear as before, yet I mark not her flet."

_Perhaps by her tantrums she hast forced the foundation to give way and into the waters it hath tumbled, _Helluin thought.

She noted that Haldir and the other guards had chosen to stand behind trees. He eyed her balefully, but ere he could voice either warning or apology they were hailed.

"Who comes hither? Declare thyself!" called a voice from above, high pitched with agitation and speaking antique Silvan. "Very well, I shalt suffer not thy menace unremarked!"

Ere any reply could be made, the words were followed by an arrow passing o'erhead, weakly shot into a nearby trunk. Thither it wavered a moment ere falling to the ground.

"Take that for thy knavery, thrall of Sauron. I shalt hath thy head this time!"

A second arrow, aimed either with greater skill or greater luck, (but not with greater force), bounced harmlessly off Helluin's mailed midriff, prompting a gasp from Beinvír and snickering from the border guards.

"O for crying aloud," Helluin muttered to herself, then to Haldir, "'tis ever thus, thy coming hither?"

"Indeed so," he replied, "now, pray take cover 'til we art recognized."

"Bah," the Noldo huffed, ere she tromped off towards the tree from which the arrows had come. Her irritation was't evident in every stride. "Lady Nimrodel," she called out, "'tis Helluin with Beinvír and Haldir, now come down, I pray thee."

_Come down ere I haul thee down and fling thee into the river, _she thought to herself.

"Thou think me a fool? I hath met Helluin once and she was't much taller," came the reply from the branches above. The voice was't now well 'nigh hysterical. "Thy wiles art for 'naught, for I can see thee clearly, scoundrel!"

Having reached the trunk, the Noldo was't perfectly placed to be struck by a falling tea pot, cast down to shatter upon her head and drench her with tea. From the woods came the sharp bark of Haldir's laughter.

_Now half a mind I hath to set fire to this tree and smoke thee out like a raccoon, _Helluin fumed.

'Twas then that the Green Elf stood forth, hoping to forestall, if possible, any further shooting, or the venting of her beloved's temper.

"Lady Nimrodel, 'tis Beinvír of the Laiquendi of Eriador. Thou recall me, surely? Hither we shared a lovely tea at our last meeting, and grave tidings concerning thy sister as well, ere King Amroth joined us for the full tale."

For a time 'twas only silence, and then the lady spoke again, sounding less agitated now.

"Beinvír? Beinvír Laiquende? I recall such a one indeed, and few know 'aught of what passed that day. I admit, thou art much like her, or at least, thou appear no shorter."

"Say not that I am shorter, but rather that thou art higher, and so the closer one comes 'neath thee, the shorter they appear," Beinvír said reasonably. "'Tis but a trick of the eye and all very natural, I assure thee. 'Tis certainly no black sorcery, I promise."

Some further words were exchanged to build Nimrodel's confidence and trust, and finally the lady came down. At the bottom of the tree she passed Helluin, still wet with tea, and looked askance at her ere admitting that, "More believable art thou when seen face to face with thy proper height restored, _Mórgolodh_."

'Twas only when she walked out to the table in the garden and took a seat that Haldir and the other border guards deemed it safe to appear. Nimrodel studiously ignored them and beckoned for Beinvír to join her at the table.

"'Tis so confusing sometimes," she intimated to the Green Elf, "to be up so high. I could hath sworn 'twas a company of meddlesome Dwarves a-peddling their bric-a-brac, or perhaps a company of squat _Yrch_ at their mischief this fine eve. It seems they pass by more frequently of late, and all look so short from my window these days. Indeed of thy companion I saw 'naught but hair, shoulders, and the tops of feet…oh, and breasts," Nimrodel confessed, giggling.

'_Tis due to the building of that bridge, no doubt, _Beinvír thought.

"I understand," the Green Elf offered in muted and conspiratorially tones, "and pray tell, how long hast it been since thy dwelling was't raised?"

Lady Nimrodel took a moment's thought ere answering, during which time the Guards took station at the verge of the garden whither Helluin joined them.

"'Twas shortly after thy last visit, if I remember it plain," Nimrodel said, "for 'twas done in response to thy tale of a dark fog rolling forth from the Greenwood and driving hence the Onodrim. The very rumor of such an enchantment left me unable to rest, and 'twas worst by night. The appearance of a simple vapor from the river set me to climbing as high as I dared, and at length I could endure it no more. I was't beside myself, but my Lord Amroth proved ever gracious and had my flet raised by 5 fathoms, so now, even should some deadly fume appear, t'will not stain my carpets or curtains." Here she smiled with relief.

Beinvír could only nod in astonishment, which Nimrodel took as a nod of agreement.

"I knew thou would understand, as most do not," she said, ending a bit louder while'st casting an accusatory glance at the border guards, "for though we hath no Tree Shepherds in Lórinand to be driven hence, 'tis no telling what may come to pass in such dark times as these. Alas that now all who come hither resemble Dwarves, or those horrid little hairy-footed creatures of yore."

"Thou mean the _Periannath_, m'lady? Hath thou seen any hither of late?"

After taking some moments to recollect, Nimrodel said, "Nay, thank the Valar I hath not, though rumor of some living 'nigh Gladden hast been heard o'er the last ennin."

The claim left Beinvír cause for thought. The terror of the Sorcerer of Dol Gúldúr had driven all the Periannath west o'er the Hithaeglir some 400 years aforetime. Had some remained? Or had they returned from Eriador when confronted with the war against Angmar? She was't recalled to the present by Nimrodel speaking.

"...am truly mortified, for alas, I fear I shan't be able to offer thee proper refreshment as my tea pot hath broken of late," she said, adding, "please forgive the breach of etiquette, I pray thee."

"Trouble thyself not upon my behalf, m'lady. I hold thee faultless, of course. Such unfortunate circumstances arise from time to time despite all precautions taken to preclude them," Beinvír replied as graciously as she could.

Lady Nimrodel relaxed and smiled at her, and in doing so, her considerable beauty was't revealed in full.

_The easier now do I understand King Amroth's infatuation,_ Beinvír thought, _and too, she hath royal breeding and knowledge of the ways and manners of court. _

"A credit to thy people art thou, Lady Beinvír, for thou art kind and gracious, in excusing me this lapse even after thy long journey all the way from Eriador to see me," Lady Nimrodel gushed. "All the greater is my regret for t'would be only fitting to be a proper hostess to one who would appreciate such refinement. I promise thee upon thy next visit I shalt hath tea and cakes and candied figs and 'aught else thou would'st desire, for I see in thee once again that good breeding indeed runs true."

_Ackkk! She thinks we hath come hither for to call upon her like city-folk going house to house to pay their respects to fellow courtiers, _Beinvír thought. 'Twas all she could do to keep from rolling her eyes and bursting out laughing.

"None save the Valar and the One may know all the notes of the song," she said, having schooled her features and restrained her mirth, "and who art we upon this Middle Earth that shalt but live those notes as best we can? We art all the subjects of much beyond our own control, especially in these darker times."

Here she looked Nimrodel in the eyes and offered a warm smile, and it seemed to charm the lady, for her own eyes widened a fraction and a hitching came in her breath. As many before her of both sexes, she had been struck by the Green Elf's beauty. She licked her lips, inhaled deeply, and straightened her shoulders ere she spoke.

''Neath thy traveler's garb thou art truly a great beauty and I see now how thou hath charmed yonder warrior to thy service," she said, and actually winked. "Many hearts must turn to thee when thou don gown and gloves and stockings for a gala or ball in thy homeland. I hath no doubt that soon some fine lord shalt ask for thy hand, yet while'st thou art still young perhaps travel suits thee, and that is a thing I had thought improper for a lady aforetime."

"Indeed travel brings me joy, m'lady, and much knowledge of what passes in lands beyond my own," Beinvír said, tightly controlling the hilarity that threatened to convulse her. She was't now 4,272 years of age, and near as she could guess, well o'er five times Nimrodel's age, and 'twas well known amongst her people where her heart lay. Aside from this, the Laiquendi donned no gowns, nor held a courtly calendar of balls and galas.

"I pray thou shalt call upon me again soon, my dear," Nimrodel said.

"I shalt indeed," Beinvír promised, "and perhaps thou shalt share somewhat of how things go forth 'twixt thee and thy lord, for I hath learnt that he hath honored thee by naming the beautiful waters of song yonder for thee." Here she offered a conspiratorial wink of her own.

The prospect of 'girl talk' with one of close social standing left Nimrodel giddy and she giggled and promised, "Indeed I shalt, for not since taking leave of Greenwood and my sister hath I anyone to speak of love with, yet for sooth, our hearts art turned toward one another, the Lord Amroth and I, and but one thing stands 'twixt us and matrimony…a safe land in which to dwell and raise a family."

"Then I wish thee joy and good fortune and the swift satisfaction of thy desire," Beinvír told her as she stood.

"And I shalt wish thee safety and joy in thy travels," Nimrodel replied as she rose from her chair.

The two walked back through the garden along the path of stones.

"A new tea pot I shalt hath to order," Nimrodel mused. "What a bother."

"Fine tea pots and water kettles art made in Khazad-dûm," Beinvír told her, "and now their merchants oft travel the road not far from here. Oh, and Haldir hath some errand to thee." Here she canted her head, indicating the detail of border guards. "When we met, it seemed both our ways led hither and so we chose to accompany each other. Perhaps even they would fill thy order if thou choose to buy from the Naugrim."

Having been gifted the solutions to several problems in so short a time left the lady elated and she caught up the Green Elf in a hug and actually kissed her cheek.

"Sooth, thy travels hath made thee wise in the ways of the world, dear friend!"

'Round them the border guards were stricken silent in astonishment while'st Helluin raised an eyebrow in surprise.

_I shalt tell thee all very shortly, meldanya,_ Beinvír told Helluin silently eye to eye.

"Lady Beinvír hath informed me thou carry a message from our lord?" Nimrodel asked the still shocked Haldir with remarkable civility.

"In…indeed so, m'lady," Haldir stammered. "Our lord King Amroth asks if t'would be convenient for him to call upon thee and pay his respects on the day after the morrow?"

Lady Nimrodel blanched and fell silent with indecision. In truth nothing more did she desire than to see Amroth as soon as might be, yet once again she'd be forced to breach the etiquette of a proper hostess. 'Twas one thing with a traveling friend, but with a prospective husband who was't also her king, 'twas quite another. In panic she looked to her new friend. Understanding her confusion, Beinvír caught her eye.

_Ask them, m'lady, for already they must travel hence to the road, and a favorable reply they no doubt desire to bring to their king. I believe they shalt be glad to help._

Nimrodel nodded and took a deep breath, readying herself to ask 'aught of those she'd ever considered 'neath her station and, if not outright knaves, at least suspect of knavery.

"I find that I am at a foul pass, Haldir. With joy would I honor our lord's visit, for his happiness is quite important to me, yet I am bereft of a tea pot and cannot entertain him fittingly. Lady Beinvír hast told me such can now be had from Naugrim traders upon the road, yet I know not these traders and hath n'er dealt with their kind. If thou believe 'tis possible, I shalt appoint thee temporary bursar for to make the purchase. I cannot ask such of our guests, and we both serve our lord Amroth."

Having made her request, the lady regarded Haldir closely. For his part, astonishment held the border captain thrall and the lady's scrutiny pinioned his tongue. Loath was't he to become the cause of the tantrum he felt sure would'st follow any refusal, and the subsequent disappointment of his king would'st surely be laid at his feet. In mute horror at the prospect of stymieing the royal romance, he could only nod 'yea'.

At his acceptance of the errand, the Lady Nimrodel fairly glowed.

"My eternal thanks to thee, my dear, dear Haldir. Thou art a prince!"

And while'st Haldir blushed and cringed and Helluin stifled a cackle, the lady strode to a spot on the path and kicked away the stones. Then, taking a delicately embroidered handkerchief which she seemed to conjure from nothing, she daintily lifted a vessel from its hiding place 'neath the soil and opened it, revealing a small cache of gold coins. Several of these she handed to Haldir, whose eyes had started from his head. Thereafter she seemed anxious to hasten them all upon their way, the sooner to accomplish her errand. The border guards were only too happy to be away, and the two ellith joined them since their way back to the road was't the same.

Now when the company had passed out of sight and hearing, all ground to a halt and in a flurry of agitated words, shared their impressions and reactions and conjectures of the proceeding incident. This took some time and 'twas full dark ere they finished, yet one final question Helluin asked of Haldir, that being to hath a glance at the coinage of Lady Nimrodel. Easily obliging, Haldir produced the coins and all gathered 'round to see them.

Immediately, the dark Noldo began shaking her head. Presenting such to the Naugrim traders would n'er do.

"Haldir, such shalt inflame the Dwarves and thy errand shalt surely fail, for though 'tis fine gold, 'twas minted long, long ago in the realm of Doriath," she informed him. _And how in udún hath Nimrodel come into such a hoard? Perhaps from her family? Some at least of them must be Sindar and come from Doriath with Celeborn, Oropher and Amdir to Eriador at the opening of the Second Age, _she said to Beinvír eye to eye._ Huh._

The Green Elf thought back and found the words she'd once heard from Thranduil in Calenglad i'Dhaer. _I wager thou art correct, beloved, for of Thranduil came this account of Inthuiril and such should stand too for Nimrodel. _ _'Her adar is Nandor, her naneth Sindar, and her maternal grandsire came with my household out of Eregion. Alas, he was't lost in battle upon Gorgoroth in the company of my father.'_

To this, Helluin nodded, then turned to regard the questioning look upon Haldir's face.

"I need not school thee fully in the history, save to say that of old was't Doriath a realm of the Sindar in Beleriand. 'Twas sacked and ruined by the Dwarf host of Nogorod. Amongst the treasure taken was't the Silmaril later to become Eärendil's star. But the host of Nogorod was't in turn slaughtered by Beren and the Laiquendi of Ossiriand, who recovered the jewel. Now Nogorod's sister realm was't called Belegost, and at the end of the First Age, many of its folk came to Khazad-Dûm. To this day they trace thither their ancestry and recall its history. Ill favored indeed would'st thou be to proffer coin of Doriath to Dwarvish traders as once King Thingol did to the craftsmen of Nogorod."

The growing horror on Haldir's face as he listened was't well 'nigh comical.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, staring at the gold pieces as if they were scorpions upon his palm. "The lady shalt surely be my ruin. What am I to do?"

For a while none spoke, yet after a time an idea came to Helluin and Beinvír, for they had traveled much and knew the minds of the Naugrim as well as any save the Khazad themselves.

"Thou must offer in trade 'aught that hath value," reasoned the Green Elf, "and not necessarily to the Naugrim directly, but something they can trade to others for profit."

Helluin nodded in agreement.

"Such should be unique to thy folk," the Noldo said while'st examining the border guards. "Ahhh, thou carry some thirty _ells_**¹** of rope, doth thou not, Haldir?" **¹****(**_**ell**_, an archaic unit of measure, in England, equal to 45", hence each border guard had 112 ½ feet of rope**)**

"Indeed so, each of us does, though we require it the less of late, for we now hath a bridge o'er Celebrant."

"Elvish rope is light and strong and none weave any so fine in these lands," Beinvír told Haldir. "T'would be a thing of value in Rhovanion, far lighter and easier to carry than tea pots and fine crockery."

For the first time in what seemed like hours, the captain of the border guards smiled.

So it came to pass that following an introduction by the two ellith, Haldir and the border guards made acquaintance with the Dwarf traders, for though their folk had enjoyed some commerce aforetime, 'twas ne'er the part of the border guards to do such. Yet when all was't arranged, two coils of Elvish rope bought a full tea set of pot, cups and saucers for Lady Nimrodel. Haldir was't well 'nigh ecstatic, for the rope could be easily replaced in Caras Galadon. The Naugrim had been very happy as well, for such fine rope would fetch a good price in Esgaroth, while'st works of ceramics, (and glass, being allied in craft to the forge through their need of kilns, ovens of annealing, and the knowledge of minerals for coloring), were inherently heavy and fragile to transport. And though 'twas less affinity 'twixt their peoples in later days, for that time they parted in friendship.

Now ere taking their leave of the border guards, some further words of advice had Helluin for Haldir.

"Thou hast made good thy office as bursar to the lady, my friend, and the happiness of all hath thou arranged, yet a bit more thou could'st do, and 'tis in the realm of politics. When thou bring the tea set to the lady, return to her two of the three pieces of gold, saying they far exceeded the price asked by the Naugrim. She shalt be impressed with thy service, and more, with thy lack of…knavery. When thou bring word of the lady's acceptance of his visit to thy king, give him the third piece of gold along with thy tale, and beseech him to say 'naught of it to Nimrodel. Greatly charmed by her concern shalt he be, and, I wager, the sight of such a coin shalt bring to him many fair memories despite Doriath's violent end."

"So then am I to hath bought the lady a tea set?" Haldir asked with a chuckle.

"In view of thy rede, I wager King Amroth shalt reward thee handsomely for thy efforts and thy concern on behalf of the lady and his kingdom," Helluin told him. "Little would he wish the traders of his neighboring realm to hath been insulted by the presentation of such coins, and I deem he shalt be both happy and impressed by thy tact in avoiding such a pass."

So it came to pass that the courtship of Nimrodel by King Amroth went forward, and being for his Highness a proper hostess gave the lady great ease and enjoyment of his company. So too did Haldir, already highly esteemed by his lord, gain an even greater measure of consideration, indeed so high a regard that upon that future day**¹** when he would go forth to the Sea, he would name Haldir his Regent. This office Haldir held for only a short time ere the return of Celeborn and Galadriel, to whom he easily deferred. **¹****(King Amroth** abdicated the throne of Lórinand in T.A. 1981 to accompany Lady Nimrodel, with whom he had finally been troth plighted, to the Havens of Edhellond, (Belfalas), for to take ship into the West. This was in the same year in which the Naugrim were driven from Khazad-Dûm by the Valaraukar. 'Twas upon learning these things, and also of the impending depopulation of Lórinand, that Celeborn and Galadriel returned from Imladris to become its guardians against the evil of Dol Gúldúr. Thus Haldir's regency lasted but 5 months.**)**

**To Be Continued**


	114. In An Age Before Chapter 114

**Chapter 114**

**Chapter Seventy-four**

_**Loeg Ningloren – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now the rumor of which Lady Nimrodel had spoken, that some of the Periannath had returned from Eriador to the lands 'nigh the River Gladden, was't of interest to Helluin, though of less interest to Beinvír. That some had fled east was't known to the Laiquendi. Whither they had gone was't not. Still, they questioned Rúmil upon the southern border and Orophin upon the river marches when they met, but of them, little lore did they gain, for Haldir's two brothers were charged with keeping watch upon the borders and seldom roamed so far afield. The Gladden, (which the Elves called the Ninglor), lay some forty-five leagues north and 'twas seldom visited for its own sake. Most going thither from Lórinand made their way to the headwaters whither a high pass through the mountains led down upon its far side into Eregion, some fifty miles north of Hollin Ridge. Lying halfway 'twixt the Redhorn Pass and the High Pass at the headwaters of the Bruinen, 'twas the most direct route from Lórinand to Imladris. So the two ellith asked after the Halflings amongst King Amroth's messengers, but no more did they learn.

"When first I met the Periannath in the company of Barlun in T.A. 1002, I had already walked right past their settlement," Helluin told Beinvír, "and save for his introduction I should hath known 'naught of them. 'Tis little wonder that Amroth's messengers hath seen none, heard none, and met none, for towards strangers they remain secretive."

"All the more likely if 'tis from the war they hath fled," the Green Elf added, "and should we go thither, no doubt from us as well shalt they hide."

"And searching blindly for them may take long and yield 'naught," Helluin said. For a moment she remained silent in thought. "One way we might chance; to seek for a homestead of the Men of Barlun's kindred. Their homes art far easier to find and perhaps one of them know'th 'aught of the Periannath, for 'twas of them that I learnt of the Halflings aforetime."

The Green Elf nodded in doubtful agreement. The settlers themselves were rare. Still, they had no other pressing business, and freely wandering the land was't ingrained in the Laiquendi.

So 'twas that upon 10 Nínui, (February 10th), of T.A. 1432 that Helluin and Beinvír took leave of Orophin upon the banks of Anduin and marched north,. They came first to that place Helluin recalled as being the homestead of Berlun son of Brulun, whom she had met in S.A. 151 as he desperately defended his home against an attack by the _Yrch_. Now no trace of that place remained. Even the mounds and stones that had marked the graves of Berlun and his wife Grinda had long since vanished; the only traces being contained in Helluin's memory and a barely remembered myth of Berlun's folk.

Three days later, having followed a well-traveled path, they looked out from the boughs of a tree some seventy miles upriver. Thither they spied a homestead, but 'twas 'cross the water upon the eastern side of Anduin, while'st they were upon the western bank.

"Well doth that not just figure," Helluin muttered in disgust, eyeing the thin column of smoke rising from the cabin's chimney.

Beinvír shook her head. Some seventy miles lay 'twixt the banks of Anduin and the eaves of Mirkwood, and to hath seen 'aught of the settlers at all was't remarkable to her. Should they not practically stumble o'er a homestead upon the west side of the river, (whither the land was't up to one hundred miles wide 'twixt Anduin and the Hithaeglir), they would indeed find themselves seeking blindly for a hidden village of the Periannath.

After a week afoot they came to those lands called by the Elves the Loeg Ningloren, the Gladden Fields in Westron, a pleasant place of ill-repute whither Isildur and his sons had been slain and the One Ring lost. Once long ago the two ellith had started upon a journey to the Gladden Fields. That had been following the marriage of Elrond and Celebrían in T.A. 109, but they had n'er finished that journey, for upon their crossing of the Hithaeglir, they had met Barlun and joined him in the rescue of Naugrim taken prisoner by the _Yrch_. During their escape, Beinvír had been wounded and Helluin had carried her all the way back to the Hidden Valley where her life had been saved by the _Peredhel_.

'Twas 17 Nínui, (February 17th). No crop growth would they see so early in the year, making the lands of the Periannath, if any, all the harder to find. Indeed they reckoned their best chance would be to seek for fields lying fallow, and perhaps with luck, some wisps of smoke from the hearth of a home dug underground. The Gladden ran for 'nigh on 30 leagues 'twixt Anduin and the Hithaeglir, and so the ellith knew they had some 180 miles to cover when counting the land upon both banks. The choice then became how far inland from each bank to search. Even were they to range but two miles inland, t'would mean examining some 360 square miles for a small and no doubt well hidden village. The prospect left them shaking their heads.

"This seemed a good course in Lórinand," Helluin muttered while'st shaking her head.

"Perhaps if we merely enjoy this land for itself, the lesser shalt be our disappointment should we not find the Periannath," Beinvír reasoned, "and the greater our reward should we actually do so. And whether yea or nay, the greater shalt be our enjoyment of the land and our time in it."

Helluin gnawed on that thought a moment. Once upon a time she had been an explorer first and foremost. Such had been her desire and her inspiration for leaving the Blessed Realm long ago. The righteous quest for the Silmarils that had driven the Noldor had been a convenient excuse and a cause for enjoying the company of many friends upon the road. That that road had become bitter and bloody had not dissuaded her from seeking new sights and new surroundings. Just when, she wondered, had all that changed? How long had it been since she had thought herself, _Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, an explorer of the Host of Finwë_?

"As ever thou art correct, melien nín, and all the more do I love thee for thy wisdom," she admitted as she wrapped Beinvír in a hug. "O'er the years I hath forgotten much, t'would seem. I thank thee for the reminder."

"I think that oft art unexpected treasures found, and all the sweeter is the finding for it," the Green Elf said while'st keeping her arms wrapped 'round Helluin, "and 'tis worth recalling that the Periannath, like my own folk, wish not to be found."

In 1343 of the Second Age they had each found such a treasure, though neither had known it at the time. Upon the road 'twixt Lindon and Ost-in-Edhil they had met for the second time, and they had seldom been separated since.

"So then we shalt explore and enjoy this land together," Helluin said, "and we shalt do so in our own time and at our own pace."

Arm in arm they walked upstream from Anduin, and now more of their attention was't upon each other then upon the land. At night they camped and listened to the songs of the wind and the running waters of the Gladden. During the days they heard bird song, the scolding of squirrels, and the soft rustling of smaller creatures in the underbrush. So they passed the spring, and the warming months of Nínui, Gwaeron, and Gwirith came with the lengthening of daylight, the migration of waterfowl, the growth of new leaves, and the blooming of flowers, but without discovering any signs of the Periannath. The grass and trees spread no rumor of the Halflings and the earth betrayed no whisper of their light-treading feet.

Now the month of Lothron (May) was't in and the days grown long and warm. Upon the afternoon of the 23rd the two ellith were walking a path 'nigh the bank of the Gladden, and they were now some seventy miles upstream from its confluence with Anduin. A cry and a loud splash they heard, followed by rustic curses in a sputtering mortal voice. 'Twas certainly no Elf, for it spoke neither Sindarin nor Silvan and held none of the melodic quality of the Elder Kindred.

To the river they hastened and thither stopped dead in their tracks, for frantically floundering in perhaps yard deep water some two fathoms from the bank was't one of the long sought Periannath. Beyond him, drifting downstream with the current, was't a pathetic collection of branches which, with some imagination, might hath been called a raft. Despite his predicament, he spied the two ellith immediately.

"A bit o' help, eh? Can ye not see I'll be drowned to me death in this rapids?"

Helluin stifled a chuckle and Beinvír rolled her eyes. The current was't mild and the water shallow so near the edge. Helluin stepped down the bank and waded in. Some four strides later she reached out and hefted the Halfling clear of the water by the back of his shirt collar. The river reached just o'er her waist.

Once safely back on land the Perian expressed his thanks in the developing Common Tongue that would become the Westron of the War of the Rings.

"Dregla's me name 'n ye has me thanks, m'dam Elf," he said as he sadly eyed his raft spinning off downstream.

"Pleased t'meet ye, Dregla, tho sad o' the means 'n the loss o' ye raft. Helluin's me name 'n this be Beinvír. Glad t'be a help to ye."

"What brought ye on the water 'n into such danger?" the Green Elf asked.

"That dratted boat 'n want o' fish," Dregla answered, adding the self-evident, "gotta eat, ya know."

_As much and as oft as possible, if I know 'aught of the Periannath,_ Beinvír said to Helluin silently eye to eye.

'_Tis a bit of a stretch to call that pile of sticks a boat,_ Helluin replied. _I find myself amazed that he hath survived so long already._

"Hazard t'be an anglerman," Helluin said to Dregla, "and ye folk I knew t'be farmers."

"Aye, farmers we were in the old country," Dregla agreed with a nod while'st hitching a thumb o'er his shoulder towards the Hithaeglir, "but took up new ways, we did. 'Sides that, we be Stoors. Left b'hind the Fallerskins 'n Hairfoots**¹**," he told them, adding with a grim expression, "prob'ly all stone dead b'now." **¹****(Fallerskins 'n Hairfoots**, aka Fallowhides and Harfoots. Fallow is a very old color name in English, (c.1000AD), a light tan-brown, approximating the color of resting fields with sandy soil.**)**

"When yer folk came t'Gladden?" Helluin asked.

The Perian scratched his head, thinking for a moment, then said, "Ages ago in me gr'ffer's time, when the Big Folk's wars come t'the old country. Weren't no right place for us t'be."

The Noldo nodded in sympathetic agreement, though the idea of 80-odd years being 'ages ago' struck her as humorous. Then she recalled the strange cosmology of Bobo Fallohide, the ill-fated, long-ago mayor of Furrylong, whom she had met in T.A. 1002 in the company of the settler, Barlun. Bobo was't the first Perian she had ever met.

"_The world ends at the mountains. It's always ended at the mountains. We all know that. I should ask ye, how can a land be green and fertile when the sun crashes down the mountains' far side each eve? Common sense tells that such a land would be burnt to cinders long ago." _

According to the Laiquendi, the Stoors had come to Eriador o'er Caradhras 'round T.A. 1150. They had fled the opening wars with Angmar about T.A. 1350. Their old terror of Dol Gúldúr had paled before their fear of the Witch King, and they'd been driven back into the very lands from which they'd fled 200 years before. 'Twas sad and ironic, and probably because fear of the Necromancer had faded to myth while'st their fear of the Witch King was't current.

"'N what o' the forest 'n th'dark tower?" she asked, looking east toward distant Anduin and Mirkwood beyond, where to the south lay Dol Gúldúr.

"Bah...myths 'n legends t'fright the ch'illins," Dregla said with a chuckle.

_Incredible! They hath forgotten their fear of so short a time ago, _Helluin said silently to Beinvír, _Doomed art they to relearn their fear when Yrch again roam these lands._

'_Tis so with mortal and immortal alike, to forget lessons learnt aforetime, _the Green Elf replied while'st sadly shaking her head. _'Tis but the spans that mark the difference._

For a moment Helluin thought on this and knew the truth of it. Warning the Perian now of his peoples' future peril would do 'naught but upset him. She switched topics.

"Ye folk make a good livin' o' fish?"

"Aye, that we do," he replied. "More vex'tous be boats, cursed things. Now I've t'build me 'nother. Every season a new 'ne t'seems."

Now the ellith debated the time and the value of teaching boat craft and the skills of a waterman to Dregla and his folk. They had little else pressing and the skills would be a great aid to the Stoors in seeking their living as anglers. But fate would not hath it so. As they stood together, the Green Elf's sharp ears reported soft footfalls approaching and she looked Helluin in the eyes.

_Three come hither, fleet and soft afoot. They art Eldar, I am sure of it._

Helluin nodded and listened a moment, marking the footsteps of three Elves now, still some distance off, but approaching directly.

"Some o' our folk come," she told the Perian, to which he immediately started shaking his head.

"Best t'be seen by none so I thank ye 'gain 'n wish ye well."

Before the ellith could voice a protest, he darted into the foliage and in a few strides had disappeared. His footfalls were scarcely to be heard. Left behind, Helluin shrugged and Beinvír shook her head.

"Let us make our way back to the path, meldanya, and meet those who come," she said.

Now when they stood again on the path, the approaching footsteps were clear and they reckoned that those coming 'nigh would hath heard their own footsteps as well for they had not moved with stealth. 'Twas just the case. When they came into sight, Helluin and Beinvír, recognized them as messengers of Imladris, and the three ellyn from the Hidden Valley met and hailed them as friends known from aforetime.

"Greetings_, _Helluin and Beinvír," said _Fónathron_**¹**, the leader of the messengers, "'tis a great bit of luck to hath found thee, for we bring word from the Lord Elrond." **¹****(Fónathron, **_**Cloud Weaver = **__faun_(cloud) + _nathron_(weaver) Sindarin. In proper names, the dipthong –_au_ simplifies to _ó_**)**

"And thou hath found us, unlikely as t'would seem," Helluin replied, "though whyfore thou should seek us hither, I know not."

"Tidings hath come to our lord from Cardolan, saying thou had come o'er Caradhras to Lórinand," Fónathron said. "Finding thee hither hast saved us much travel."

"Then glad art we for it. What word then from Lord Elrond?" Beinvír asked.

Fónathron's joy at having found the ellith dissolved and his features became grim.

"The Dúnedain of Cardolan report that their border guards hath received tidings from errand riders of Gondor making for Tharbad on the South Road 'twixt the Enedwaith and Dunland. 'Tis said that the rule of King Valacar, son of Rómendacil II Minalcar, hast passed to his son, Prince Eldacar, who took the crown upon 1 Lothron (May 1st). But many in the South Kingdom rejected Eldacar as being of impure blood, saying that no kingdom of Westernesse shalt endure the rule of lesser Men. Some favor Castamir, the grandson of Minalcar's brother, Calimehtar. 'Tis great unrest now in Gondor."

Upon hearing these tidings, Beinvír groaned and Helluin shook her head.

"Eldacar's birth name was't Vinitharya, and he is the son of Valacar and Vidumavi, a princess of the North Men and the daughter of King Vidugavia," Fónathron told them.

Five generations back, at the head of Vidugavia's line, was't King Ërlick whom the two ellith had befriended in T.A. 1002. So the Lord Elrond had informed them when they had met in Imladris in 1356. Now his son-in-law was't the right king of the greatest realm in the west of Middle Earth, but at least some of his people sought to supplant him.

_Should the Men of Gondor not find agreement they shalt be riven by civil war and kin shalt stand against kin in their confusion, _Helluin said silently to her beloved. In her mind's ear were Beinvír's words spoken not even a quarter hour past, _'Tis so with mortal and immortal alike, to forget lessons learnt aforetime. 'Tis but the spans that mark the difference._

"To Gondor we must go," Helluin declared, "if in any way we can'st save the Dúnedain of Anárion from falling to the same sorrows as my peoples did." _Alqualonde…Avernien._

Beside her, the Green Elf nodded in agreement. 'Twas hard for her to imagine the like amongst her own people; the Laiquendi of Eriador slaying the Galadrim of Lórinand, or those of _Taur e-Ndaedelos_**¹**, for example. **¹****(Taur e-Ndaedelos**, _**Forest of the Great Fear **_aka Mirkwood. Sindarin**)**

"Indeed such was't our lord's counsel," Fónathron said, "and the time saved in finding thee hither we count as a blessing. I shalt report thy purpose to Elrond upon our return. May speed and good fortune be yours upon thy journeys 'til next we meet."

With their decisions made and 'naught else to discuss, they parted company then, Helluin and Beinvír taking the path east in haste towards Anduin and the messengers turning back at once towards the Hithaeglir and Imladris.

"Many, many leagues lie 'twixt us and Osgiliath," Helluin chafed as they walked, "and to come thither ere mid-Cerveth t'will be a great deed. I shalt wonder not should we arrive to find Gondor ruled by Haradrim, with the Dúnedain all dead by their kinsfolk's hands."

Though less pessimistic, beside her Beinvír too was't worried. They were seventy-odd miles upstream upon Gladden, whose mouth lay some 155 miles upstream from Lórinand and the mouth of Celebrant. Thence another 125 miles lay 'twixt Celebrant and Limlight, after which they would needs cross the Wold, skirting the western extension of the Emyn Muil and traversing the many mouths of the Onodló. 'Twas some 120 leagues from Limlight to Cair Andros and another 15 leagues to Osgiliath. In all, the Green Elf reckoned they would travel o'er 250 leagues with Helluin brooding the whole way, ere arriving in the midst of a civil war.

_Oh joy, _she thought to herself. _At this time I find myself wishing to be a hairy-footed little fisherman, and a poor one at that!_ The idea tickled her and she giggled at the thought, drawing an aggravated expression from her partner.

"I understand not thy mirth, beloved," the dour Noldor said. "Pray enlighten me."

"Would that we had so little worry as the Perian, Dregla," she said. "Joy he would hath at 'naught but some fish and a new boat."

Yet even as the words left her mouth she realized the wisdom hidden amongst them and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Helluin! A half-week spent building a boat would'st save us three afoot! Shalt we not do as the Stoors hath done and take to the water?"

**To Be Continued**


	115. In An Age Before Chapter 115

**Chapter 115**

Now the two ellith did indeed spend four days in the construction of a 'boat', and a poorer collection of lumber to create the hull the Eldar had ne'er seen. Having neither the time nor the tools to make proper boards of their timbers, they chose to use pine trunks of thigh thickness to form a raft some fathom in width by a fathom and a half in length. Upon the center fathom they built a raised platform covered by a thatched lean-to to keep dry their gear. As they would follow the current they needed no mast or sail. A pair of crude oars and a short tiller completed the construction. 'Twas sturdier and larger than the raft Dregla had lost, and it floated more stably as well. As a necessary embarrassment they regarded it, and so they contrived to pass Lórinand by night. Still, they marked the laughter of the border guards carrying 'cross the water from the Golden Wood as they passed.

"No doubt 'tis Orophin and his company of merry knaves belly laughing at our plight," Helluin grumbled as the mellyrn slipped by to starboard. "I dread our next visit thither."

"Of a certainty shalt he proffer his tale to all," Beinvír agreed.

"Aye, and a more loquacious band of gossips art not to be found in all of Arda," the Noldo chaffed, recalling the fervent interest the Galadrim had exhibited when she had visited the flet of Galadriel and Celeborn's incarceration in S.A. 1375.

"Ahh well, 'tis 'naught to be done about it, I deem," Beinvír said while'st resigning herself to the ribbing they'd endure upon their next visit.

Now the two ellith had passed Lórinand upon the night of their third day afloat, and eight days later they came to Nen Hithoel, the teardrop shaped lake amidst the tall cliffs of the Emyn Muil. At the entrance to the lake whither the cliffs had risen, they had been met by a wonder, for upon each cliff bracketing the water there had been constructed a colossus a half-furlong in height, standing upon great pedestals whose foundations were sunk in the bed of the river. These impressive figures wore battle armor, each bearing an axe in their right hand, each left hand held palm out in sign of warning against incursions from upriver. They were wrought from the native stone by the craft of Gondor and had been completed in T.A. 1430, but two years before.

"Incredible," Beinvír whispered in awe at her first sight of them. "Very great must hath been the labor to carve such figures."

"Aye, great indeed," Helluin had replied, "and their message is clear by their upraised hands; _come no further if thou be an enemy of Gondor_. I wager 'tis the work of Minalcar, or perhaps his son Valacar; a warning to the Easterlings that Rómendacil II defeated two centuries past."

To this the Green Elf nodded in agreement.

"Somewhat familiar their visages appear to me, Helluin. Doth not the figure upon the left resemble Isildur, and that upon the right Anárion?"

The Noldo squinted as she regarded the two faces far above.

"A resemblance I should call it and no more," she finally allowed. "I remember neither as being so square of jaw, nor so broad of nose."

Once past the Pillars of the Kings they shaped their course along the western side as the current drew them on. They recalled that upon the lake's southern or downstream shores stood Amon Lhaw, the Hill of the Ear, upon the eastern shore, while'st upon the western shore stood Amon Hen, the Hill of the Eye. 'Twas on the Seat of Seeing atop Amon Hen that Sauron had assailed Beinvír and dueled with Helluin in S.A. 3410. 'Twixt these two hills flowed the gathered waters of Anduin to the thundering Falls of Rauros, while'st amid stream towered the steep pinnacle of Tol Brandir.

They beached their raft upon the western shore 'nigh Amon Hen, at that long glade called Parth Galen. 'Twas the afternoon of 8 Nórui, (June 8th). Barely had they set foot on solid ground ere they were approached and hailed by soldiers of the South Kingdom, for in those days the north gate of Gondor was't garrisoned and a bivouac of troops had been set thither for to keep watch.

"Hail travelers," the captain of the guards called out. "In the name of the king I bid thee declare thyselves and thy errand,"

"Hail, good captain. I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwë and with me is Beinvír, Laiquende of Eriador, who was't known upon a time to Elendil and Isildur and Anárion. Long we hath been friends of the Dúnedain, yet now we hath heard tidings of trouble in the succession of King Eldacar and hath come to learn 'aught of what passes and perhaps offer such aid as we can."

The captain and his company had come up and he regarded the two ellith with sharp scrutiny, yet being an honorable Man of the West he quickly discerned the truth of their words and accepted their declaration. They had met his eyes openly and he could detect no subterfuge in them, and they were certainly of the Eldar kindred, the first such he had met. Yet the captain was't not a soldier only, but like the captains of ages past, he knew much of lore and history and he had seen duty upon land and sea in his lord's service.

"I am Hathol son of Magor and I command the watch upon Anduin from the Argonath to Rauros as well as the Emyn Muil to the west of the river. Thy names and gear I recognize from our lore. Thou hath long had the welcome of the South Kingdom and may pass the border and enter the King's lands."

"Our thanks, Captain Hathol," Helluin said, "and we offer our sympathies upon the passing of King Valacar, for a wise ruler and a great lord was't he."

Her words prompted a momentary flash of sorrow on the Man's face as he nodded his acceptance and thanks. 'Twas obvious he had esteemed his late king.

"We hath heard tell of the coronation of his son Eldacar and that some hold him to be unfit by blood?"

The captain sighed at the Noldo's words. Ill news traveled fast it seemed.

"Alas such tidings art true," Hathol said, "and though born in the north of a princess of that land, Lord Eldacar oft came amongst his troops ere taking the throne. Many of us hath come to know and love him. He hath the wisdom of his father and the courage of his grandsire. Despite 'aught that some claim regarding his bloodline, he hast ever been a just and valiant prince. As did his father aforetime, he hath my allegiance and that of many at arms in Gondor's service as well."

To this, Helluin nodded in thanks.

"Know'th thou who 'tis that oppose him?" Beinvír asked.

Now a harder look came to the captain's eyes and he said, "For the most part 'tis some amongst the noble houses, courtiers and wealthy gentry who art wont to revel in their lineages. They whisper and agitate, foisting false pride as patriotism, seeking for to safeguard the pure blood of Westernesse, they say, thereby to safeguard their own privilege. To me they art close to treason, speaking thus against their right lord, our past king's heir."

_Oh this is not good, not good at all, _Beinvír said silently to Helluin eye to eye, _for the dissent of some of the nobles hath earned the hatred of the army, or at least some of the army._

_Aye, and so courtly influence vies with military power o'er the course of the kingdom. I hope it comes not to a head for 'tis a recipe for a massacre, yet we must discover how widely held art these sentiments. We art upon the marches, not in the cities, and things may stand differently in Osgiliath._

Helluin eyed the low angle of Anor, soon to sink behind the highlands of the Emyn Muil to the west.

"Captain, 'tis our intent to pass down the path from Parth Galen and descend the North Stair 'nigh Rauros, so to come into the lowlands and thence make our way downriver to Osgiliath," Helluin said.

Captain Hathol nodded having expected just such and said, "Sufficient daylight remains to make the foot of the stair and set a camp ere the light fails, yet if thou can spare this night from thy travels, I would invite thee to stay with us and continue on thy way with the morn. We art well provisioned and t'would be an honor to host thee at our board."

"A meal we hath not caught ourselves would be welcome, Captain, and thy company would be more welcome still, for traveling by water we hath met none since leaving the Fields of Gladden," Beinvír quickly replied, knowing that Helluin would be tempted to walk all night if she'd allow it.

"And any tidings of Gondor would be greatly appreciated as well," Helluin added.

A smile graced the stern face of the captain, for visitors were rare at their station and none so intriguing as the two ellith had yet passed his post. The Men of his company seemed to relax slightly their bearing as well, for the presence of well-traveled strangers would enliven their otherwise dull evening which had been expected, as 'tis for soldiers in most times and places, to mingle much boredom with the possibility of sudden danger.

"Come then to our camp and make thyselves comfortable ere we sup. T'would seem we hath much to speak of this night, for I shalt tell thee all I can of how things now stand in the City of Kings, and for my part, I would hear of thy travels, for n'er hath I passed north up Anduin beyond the Limlight. Yet thither, tales say, lies a blessed realm of thy folk amidst towering trees of gold, and if thou hath seen it, I would delight in hearing thy tale."

"Thou speak of Lórinand, and we spent this winter past in that realm. Too, we hath a long acquaintance with its people. Gladly shalt we share tidings," Helluin said.

So they made their way back to the camp of the Dúnedain, which was't located in the shadow of Amon Hen, more southerly upon the shore.

"'Tis all the gear thou hath?" a young soldier detailed to settle the two Elves asked in amazement when he saw Helluin and Beinvír had carried from their raft but one travel bag apiece slung o'er their shoulders.

"Aye, 'tis all we need," the Green Elf replied, enduring yet another smitten look from the soldier. "Arda is bountiful and by the grace of the One and those in the West, we art ever provided for."

"'Tis so with all thy folk?" he asked, having n'er before met an Elf.

"Indeed not," Helluin replied. "We follow the wisdom of her people, while of old, my people campaigned afield with such a burden of gear as to make thy camp appear but sparsely furnished."

She was't recalling the camps of the Noldor of Beleriand in the First Age, of Ereinion and Ciryatur in Lindon and 'nigh Tharbad during the War of the Elves and Sauron, and those set by her late High King during the Last Alliance. _Turgon brought a gilt bathtub to the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Ereinion a 600 year old dining table and chairs. Even Elrond brought a dozen tomes, a journal and a folding writing desk, as if he expected to find none in Fornost._

Now the camp of the Dúnedain was't set back from the lawn of Parth Galen, amongst the trees on a gentle upslope ere the land rose more steeply to Amon Hen. Well 'nigh all was't hid from the water by a low rise so the camp would not be easily marked from the eastern shore. Low barracks of logs, with plank floors and bunks for 20 soldiers apiece were set partially into the ground to reduce height. Their sloping, single-pitched roofs were camouflaged with dirt, leaves, deadfall and some small plants. So too were constructed the kitchen/larder/mess hall, the meeting room for the officers, and a storage space/armory. Close by to the north, a freshet ran down to the lake from the surrounding highlands, while'st to the south lay the trailhead to the stair descending the escarpment o'er which Rauros tumbled.

'_Tis a good and functional camp well laid, and suited to long term occupancy,_ Helluin silently remarked to Beinvír. _This posting hath lasted for years, I wager._

_Most likely some hath been billeted hither since the days of Rómendacil II, _the Green Elf agreed. _The land bears the wear of many feet, with paths long trod to be seen._

_Aye, and yet knowing the nature of Men, 'tis much less disturbance then could be. Perhaps some lessons Gondor hath learnt from the Rangers of Lebennin._

_I deem it so indeed, for hath thou marked the trench fires and the watch flets o'erhead? The sentries upon them art cloaked, hooded, and barely to be seen even from close by. And amongst those who came to meet us were four out of a dozen bearing bows._

The two ellith chose a spot upslope from the Dúnedain camp, and save for their travel bags hung from branches some two fathoms aboveground, 'twas 'naught to be seen of it. Later, when they took their rest, they would spread ground clothes to lie upon, but in such fine weather, 'twas no need of more shelter than the boughs of the trees o'erhead.

Now the officers met for their board at six hours past noon, and the soldiers ate in two shifts starting at the same hour. In good weather such as they enjoyed that evening, long trestle tables and benches were brought out and set in the open just outside the kitchen, one for the officers and their guests, and another five larger ones for the Men at arms. Soon the scent of food filled the air, and conversation as well, spoken in moderate tones so as not to carry.

Captain Hathol sat at the head of the officers' table with the Elves seated to his left. Upon his right hand sat his lieutenants, _Ramthál_**¹ **and _Bóremel_**²**, and beyond them the camp's surgeon, quartermaster, signal master, and a third lieutenant, somewhat shorter and stockier than the Dúnedain, and clad in the cloak of mixed greens clasped at the throat with the black Sarchram broach of a Lebennin Ranger. **¹****(**_**Ramthál**_**, Wingfoot**, Sindarin**)**** ²****(**_**Bóremel, **_**Trueheart **Sindarin**)**

He had started slightly at his first sight of the two, and thereafter this Man's hazel eyes strayed from them but little. At their seating he raised his right hand to touch the broach below his throat and bowed his head to them in respect for a moment, a gesture they returned. The captain marked this exchange and introduced the Man.

"Helluin and Beinvír, I should introduce _Talagant_**¹** of Linhir, Lieutenant of the Rangers of Lebennin and the commander of the Rangers accompanying this company of Gondor," Captain Hathol said, adding with a smile, "He hath also the best singing voice of us all. Lieutenant, we art favored this night with the company of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Noldor and Beinvír Laiquende, though by thy actions I deem no such introduction is truly necessary." **¹****(**_**Talagant**_**, Harper **Sindarin**)**

"Indeed they art unmistakable to me, Lord Captain," Talagant said. "'Tis a great honor to meet thee, First Guardians."

"Long it hast been since any addressed us thus," Helluin replied. "'Tis heartwarming to know we art remembered."

"The Men of Gondor art not alone in recalling their history, m'lady. Lebennin remembers thy denial of Pelargir to Prince Tindomul and the King's Men of Númenor long ago. _Cónhal_**¹** Beinvír led our troops in the holding of Ithilien and the siege of Minas Ithil during the last Great War. These things we do not forget." **¹****(**_**Cónhal,**_** High Commander = **_cón_(commander) + _hald_(high). Final consonants _–ld_ resolve to _–l_ at the end of Sindarin proper nouns such as names, or in this case, a formal title. Sindarin**)**

_As I told thee once long ago, long life confers titles, '…the wage of trudging many miles and losing many battles', _ Helluin silently said to Beinvír. _ Thou hast now another to add to thy life list. Cónhal…I like the sound of it._

The Green Elf chuckled and replied just as silently, _I confess 'tis more appealing than 'Gôrgbu of Drúwaith Iaur'._

At this recollection, Helluin grimaced. Long memory had its downside most surely.

Now the meal commenced with words of thanks given by the captain and a moment of silence observed by all the company as 'twas the custom in Gondor. Thereafter all helped themselves to abundant fare, the benefits of soldiers serving a strong realm in time of peace. Platters were laden with sliced ham and chickens broken into parts, roasted potatoes and ears of corn, vegetables steamed and wild mushrooms sautéed with onions, a round of cheese in red wax, and slices of dense dark bread with butter and honey. For drinking they had pitchers of clean, clear water from the stream, sweet cider spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg, and a pale ale in flagons with which to fill their mugs. The company ate with the gusto of Men living and working long hours outdoors and the two ellith joined them, rejoicing in the variety and quality of simple food well prepared.

Much was't told as they ate and drank, and the soldiers of Gondor were amazed at their account of Lórinand and the tree city amidst the mellyrn. Much did the Elves learn of the state of politics in Gondor. Much of it was't good, but 'twas o'ershadowed by the seeds of contention, and a self-congratulatory self-regard.

"I deem 'tis the nature of nobility to revel in its primacy," Captain Hathol commented, "and perhaps the pettier the noble, the greater his stake in his heritage and the privilege it confers. Lore tells that some kings too hath indulged this nature…Narmacil and his brother Calmacil the most recent."

Both past kings had reigned within the memory of the eldest of living Dúnedain, and their lordship was't recent history to many who now served.

"Yet thy more recent lords hath redeemed their line in deed, t'would seem," Beinvír said. "Rómendacil II won great victories in Gondor's name, and was't he not long regent 'neath his predecessors? And his son Valacar cemented the alliance 'twixt Gondor and the North Men during his embassy to Rhovanion, or so we hath heard."

"Aye, thou hath heard true," Lieutenant Bóremel agreed, "and in Minalcar we had the greatest king since Hyarmendacil Ciryaher 400 years past."

A soft stamping of boots, the nodding of heads, and the raising of mugs accompanied the mention of Ciryaher's name, for he was't revered for defeating the Haradrim and thereby saving Umbar which his grandfather Eärnil had won for Gondor a century before.

"'Tis true that our last two kings hath redeemed the honor of the throne," Hathol said, "at least in the eyes of the army. My father served Gondor at arms when Rómendacil II crushed the Easterlings, and ever did he esteem his king. Too, he came to esteem the North Men whose cavalry aided Gondor in that war. Swift and fierce they were, ever loyal to friends and true to their word."

"So they were when last we left them," Helluin said, recalling the changes during the reign of King Ërlick and Queen Brekka some 400 years past.

"Yet now some question Rómendacil II's wisdom in sending hence his son for so long an embassy in Rhovanion," Captain Hathol said with rising anger, "and some whisper that King Valacar's wedding of Princess Vidumavi was't an indiscretion indicative of a natal flaw in his character."

"They see the fault in each son worse than his sire's, and say the flaws of King Valacar hath blossomed in his half-breed son," Lieutenant Ramthál spat.

"So they reject Lord Eldacar, claiming his yet unmade decisions shalt be the ruin of Gondor, as if such art preordained by his blood," Lieutenant Bóremel ground out.

The anger of the officers was't deep and uniformly held. The Elves clearly marked this in the Men's facial expressions and body language.

"What say thou, Lieutenant Talagant?" Beinvír asked.

The Ranger of Lebennin looked the Green Elf square in the eyes and said, "The Men of Lebennin swore allegiance to Isildur and Anárion, first Kings of Gondor. This thou saw with thine own eyes. We hath been true to each king since, and though we art not Dúnedain, each king hath accepted our service and done us honor as Men of Gondor. Upon our honor we shalt serve the right King of Gondor, and that king is Eldacar."

Beinvír nodded in acceptance of this. _True heart….like the North Men, ever loyal and true to their word._

"Captain Hathol, hath thou heard of any whom the nobles would favor?" Helluin asked.

To this the captain shook his head.

"Nay, Helluin, none I know of hath been named. For a season we hath held this post, and Lord Valacar still ruled when we left the city. We shalt not be relieved ere 1 Cerveth (July 1st). We expect supplies 6 days hence, upon 14 Nórui, and perhaps some word shalt come then of how things stand in Osgiliath."

The Noldo nodded in understanding. Eldacar had taken the crown upon 1 Lothron. Captain Hathol and his Men had only heard of the succession and the trouble following the coronation while'st on duty. Indeed, if supplies were received twice monthly, they would'st hath first heard tidings of it upon 14 Lothron.

Some 260 miles lay 'twixt Rauros and Osgiliath. Even if Captain Hathol's company was't supplied from the long isle of Cair Andros, t'would still be a journey of some 215 miles. For a train of ox-drawn carts, she reckoned 'twas nine to fourteen days each-way. Helluin suspected that Hathol and his Men had likely learnt of the succession upon 14 Lothron, but of the following troubles only upon 1 Nórui, 8 days past. Since then they had stewed in doubt and nursed a growing anger.

"Captain, on the morrow we shalt hath need of haste. I would ask of thee a favor; to give us a lead of four hours to descend the stair and thence to send o'er the falls our raft."

The captain's eyes widened in surprise. Surely 'naught but sticks would'st remain when came that raft to the bottom of Rauros.

The Noldo read his doubt.

"Even should only sticks remain, t'will be faster to reconstruct our craft than to build anew, yet perhaps Rauros shalt be kind to our cause and deliver it in but a few pieces we can rapidly rejoin. Even should the worst follow, 'tis little to be lost by the attempt," Helluin said with a wry grin.

To this wisdom Captain Hathol chuckled. In his mind's eye he could see the two ellith drifting down Anduin upon their crude raft to the City of Kings.

**To Be Continued**

_*Note to readers: a prior reference to the Argonath in chapter 59 was corrected and that chapter has been reposted. In the original posted text I'd just added a note following the reference and acknowledged the error which I didn't consider important at the time._

7


	116. In An Age Before Chapter 116

**Chapter 116**

Now upon the following morn the two ellith awoke with Anor's rising, as is the way with many who live outdoors, and after greeting Captain Hathol and his officers o'er breakfast, they made their way south down the path from Parth Galen to the North Stair. Unlike the stairs that rose from Imlad Morgul to the fortress of Cirith Ungol, the North Stair was't a stair in name only, being in truth a steep path of many switchbacks upon which ox carts could, with slow deliberation, ascend and descend the roughly 1,600 ft escarpment. It served too as a portage way if one had sufficient hands to carry a small boat. The two ellith did not, for their raft of slender trunks and thick branches was't far too heavy.

Coming into the bright morning sunlight at the head of the stair from the shadows of the deeply cut entrance to the path leading back towards Parth Galen, Helluin and Beinvír were met with a vast panorama of the southern lands bordering Anduin. Seemingly 'neath their feet lay the vapors and pool at Rauros' base some 1,300 ft below. As they looked out from that high place with Elvish sight, they took in the course of the river with the many mouths of the Onodló upon its western banks, and the vast marshlands of the Nindalf upon its east. Beyond these, 100 miles distant, lay the curve of the river that skirted the NoMan-lands to the east and led down to Cair Andros 'twixt North Ithilien and Anórien. Thither, impossible to ignore in the east, rose the dark and jagged slopes of the Ephel Dúath, the Mountains of Shadow that fenced the western verge of the Black Land.

With a sigh Helluin tore herself from that vista, and with Beinvír walking beside her, began their descent. They soon discerned that compared with their climb up that path in S.A. 3410, the way had been much smoothed, widened and improved during the Third Age for the passage of Gondor's troops and supplies.

"I reckon we shalt be down in under an hour," Beinvír said, glancing at the sky to check Anor's position after some ten minutes walk downhill. "'Tis well 'nigh a highway now."

"Perhaps I should hath asked the captain for somewhat less time ere sending o'er the falls our raft," Helluin muttered. The possibility of a three hour wait was a delay she begrudged as time lost in reaching Osgiliath. "Three hours we could sit idle ere our collection of sticks reaches us."

"Be not so grim, meldanya," the Green Elf chided with a smile. "'Tis a fine day and we need not await the raft at the pool. T'will find us as easily three hours walk downstream as anywhere else along the river, for I deem it hath little choice of its course."

To this truth the Noldo chuckled ere agreeing, "Aye, 'tis a fine day for a swim."

Even at a leisurely pace they reached the base of the stair in but an hour, and after a glance back at Rauros and Tol Brandir, took the wagon track south along Anduin. For two and one-half hours they walked, covering some seven miles. They were then roughly halfway 'twixt Rauros and the northernmost mouth of the Onodló. Here Anduin ran smoothly, both broad and deep, with some seventy fathoms 'twixt the western and eastern shores. After shedding their travel bags and cloaks they turned their sharp eyes upstream, seeking for any pieces of their raft and preparing to swim.

'Twas some quarter hour later that they began to see branches and trunks, some loose and a few still joined, mostly far out in the stream. These they watched float past, one after another, with grim expressions…'naught worth the effort of retrieval did they see.

"Well, that could hath gone better," Beinvír said as she sadly shook her head. She donned her cloak and picked up her travel bag.

"Aye, a bit more cooperative Rauros could hath been," Helluin groaned. "Rather than a swim we hath now a walk of some sixty-five leagues to Osgiliath…ahhh well."

Another hour they walked downstream, and 'twas by chance alone that the Green Elf spied 'aught most unexpected while'st staring ruefully out o'er the water. Amidst some brambles protruding from the bank floated a sad collection of sticks.

"'Tis surely a jest," she muttered, and then turning to the Noldo announced, "I believe not my eyes, yet by the Valar, we need not walk to Osgiliath."

"Huh?"

"Look thither," she said, pointing to direct her beloved's gaze, "'tis as unlikely a thing as could be, yet thither floats Dregla's treacherous and runaway…boat."

'Twas with narrowed eyes that Helluin regarded the Perian's raft ere slogging down the bank to seize it and drag it aground.

"'Tis 'naught but an insult that this…thing…should survive Rauros when our own raft did not," she spat, appraising the still pitiful collection of sticks. She could almost hear the chuckling, carried upon breezes of the spirit all the way from the Furthest West.

"'Tis faster than walking," Beinvír tentatively offered.

Helluin gave the raft a doubtful glance and said, "t'will treat us no better than its maker, I wager, and t'will be a wonder if we need not swim the last 64 leagues."

Yet after a thorough checking o'er and some remedial lashing, they set out upon Dregla's raft shortly after noon. With the weight of two rather than one of diminutive stature, the raft rode barely at the surface, with water seeping through every crack. In minutes the two were soaked to the knees, for any movement drove that part of the raft 'neath the water and tilted upwards the part opposite.

"I shalt not float into Osgiliath thus," Helluin declared. "'Twas bad enough to pass Lórinand upon our own raft. To approach the City of Kings as a pair of half-drowned rats upon a log…we should be the objects of a dozen generations' ridicule."

The Green Elf chewed her lip. Though she cared little for the appearance of dignity, especially to mortals, she knew the Men of Númenor had long memories, and judging by Captain Hathol's comments, valued dignity greatly.

"In this case, meldanya, I agree. T'would serve our cause little should we appear a laughing-stock to those we wish to aid."

Despite such efforts, they would appear in Osgiliath just so.

They agreed to abandon the wretched craft some miles upstream from the city and arrive in Osgiliath afoot. Even so, they were the subjects of many catcalls, much pointing, and raucous laughter upon their passing of Cair Andros in the morning of their second day afloat. They drew up their cloaks, pulled their hoods o'er their heads, and replied not, hoping none would mark of what kind they were. Some forty miles later, as they came nigh the wood 'twixt Amon Dîn and the northern slopes of Mindolluin, they leapt from the sodden platform and watched from the bank as Dregla's raft continued south down Anduin. Towards Osgiliath and Pelargir and finally the wide Bay of Belfalas it drifted, and who upon the Hither Shores can know how far its way led, for having already survived Rauros, surely the hand of providence was't upon it. Even perhaps, by the beneficence of the Lord Ulmo, it found its way 'cross the wide sea Belegaer, this sad collection of sticks, for to join on some blessed day, the memory of those proud ships Eärrámë and Vingilot, upon a beach of whitest sand.

Once upon dry land again Helluin would brook no delay, and so they walked through the afternoon with sodden boots. The road leading from Minas Anor to Osgiliath lay but a league ahead ere the two ellith stopped to camp for the night. They chose a spot within walking distance of the river, guarded somewhat from casual sight by an orchard upon a slight rise, and there they set a trench fire and unpacked their gear.

"Ruined, alas, all ruined," Beinvír said as she cast aside several strips of squirrel jerky and some previously dried vegetables, "wet for too long and no longer wholesome."

She was't examining their stores beside the fire while'st their clothes dried. Helluin had spread out the rest of their gear; damp ground clothes, rope, and medicinal herbs with the scent of mold growing on them. She flung the last away from their camp in disgust.

"I shalt find us a fish," she said as she stomped off towards Anduin naked.

By midnight they had eaten and some of their things had dried. The rest of their gear was't now closer to the fire, its moisture being driven off. Despite fair weather and many stars, 'twas not a night of rest and pleasant memories. At first light they repacked and continued upon their way south.

Now after an hour they were upon the road that ran from Minas Anor to Osgiliath, and they found many going to and fro in both directions. From those they passed they felt an undercurrent of unease and occasional anger. Such conversations as they o'erheard were either muted with apprehension or raised in argument. Such attention as they themselves received was't either a subtle shying away of footsteps or furtive glances of distrust. 'Twas uncomfortable and unpleasant, but not unexpected, for the folk of Gondor were in turmoil. 'Twas 11 Nórui and just shy of six weeks since the coronation of Eldacar.

"I hath yet to mark a smile or a word of welcome," Beinvír remarked when they had about them a space devoid of other travelers.

"Aye," the Noldo agreed. "'Tis disinterest or distrust I feel, yet either is more welcome than open hostility."

The Green Elf's eyes widened in surprise, for ever had the Gondorim welcomed them, save perhaps the mad Queen Berúthiel.

"When we reach the city, we must be wary," Helluin added.

They reached the outer wall and gate of the City of Kings but a half hour later, and there they were quickly challenged by a company of the guard who barred their way with spears.

"Halt and declare thyselves," a lieutenant demanded as he faced them with suspicious eyes. Though cloaked and hooded, the strangers openly bore arms of war.

The two ellith drew back their hoods, revealing themselves to be Elvish folk.

"I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwë, and with me is Beinvír Laiquende of Eriador. We hath long been friends and allies of Gondor, and of thy forefathers in Númenor aforetime. 'Tis tidings of the South Kingdom we seek in this time of trouble, and we offer any such aid as we can'st give."

For some moments the lieutenant said 'naught, but only regarded them all the more closely, as if committing every detail to memory. Then he bid them stand and wait, though his voice carried less challenge than aforetime.

"Summon the captain," he ordered the guard at the end of the line barring the way.

The guard saluted and then turned and hastened back through the gate, entering the guard house through a strong door of steel located in the thickness of the wall.

When he was't gone the lieutenant approached and spoke again to the ellith.

"I ask thy patience. Thy names I hath heard aforetime in lore, but for myself I can only confirm that thou art of the Elder kindred and hath spoken no lies. In these troubled times I need defer thy passage to my captain who hast the authority to offer the welcome of the King."

Helluin nodded in understanding.

"What was't heard in Imladris then is true, that the realm of Isildur and Anárion lies disquiet following the passing of King Valacar."

"Aye, 'tis true indeed," the lieutenant agreed with a sad nod. And then more quietly still he added, "Some now speak openly against King Eldacar and so we seek to halt agitators from entering Osgiliath, for many would throw oil upon the embers of unrest that smolder hither. My heart is filled with foreboding for the days to come."

'Twas not long that they waited, for the captain of the guard came forth promptly. He was't a tall Dúnadan of stern bearing who obviously took his duties seriously. The lieutenant snapped to attention and held his salute 'til 'twas returned. The captain then looked the Elves o'er for but a moment only ere he bowed formally and spoke.

"I am Captain Haldad and in thee I see two from our lore standing 'neath the same sun that shines upon me. 'Tis a great wonder indeed, for many lives of Men hath passed since such last was't. 'Neath thy cloak I mark the _mithril_ Ring of which many stories tell, and so I accept thy declaration and offer the welcome of the Kings renewed."

Helluin and Beinvír bowed to the captain in return.

"Our thanks for thy King's welcome, Captain Haldad," Helluin said. "'Tis true that many years hath passed since last we visited the South Kingdom, for we hath been needed most in the north. Thither the strength of old falters while'st Gondor hast remained strong. Yet of late we hath heard tell of unrest, and so we hath come to learn 'aught of what passes in the southern realm."

"Ill news travels upon swift wings, 'tis said, and yet such news is oft true," the captain replied. "Our new king is not accepted by all, especially those who see their own status maintained by the purity of their blood. Such is their quarrel with King Eldacar, that his mother was't not Dúnedain. Yet 'tis the hope of many, myself amongst them, that the Men of Gondor shalt cleave to the right succession, for Eldacar is the son of his father."

"So we heard from Captain Hathol upon Parth Galen but three days past," Beinvír said. "He too, and his officers, strongly support King Eldacar."

"Captain Hathol is a good Man," Captain Haldad said, "and a good captain and soldier of Gondor. I would expect no less."

"Is support for King Eldacar strong amongst all the army?" Helluin asked.

"'Tis so with the Northern Army in which serve no few Men of northern blood, even from the days of Rómendacil," the captain confirmed, "and 'tis so too with many of the folk in the lands close by Anduin; Rhovanion, Lebennin and Anórien in particular. Yet I hath heard tell of opposition from the southern fiefs east of Anduin, and of course amongst some of the nobility in Osgiliath itself.

Of the Southern Army I am not so sure. The garrison of Umbar is for the most part manned by soldiers from Harondor and South Ithilien now, and in the days of Hyarmendacil 'twas no question of their loyalty. Yet now those days lie 400 years past, and during the reigns of Alcarin, Narmacil and Calmacil, the strength and resolve of Gondor waned. Thereafter most of our attention was't claimed by threats from the east, leaving the south both less involved and less closely held…and ever hath Umbar harbored some of ancient lineage, scions of the King's Men of old. They art true blooded Dúnedain, and they hath married into well 'nigh all such families as came to the Hither Shores after the Fall of Númenor, and from this, I deem the loyalty of some houses suspect, though their blood be pure."

Helluin nodded in acceptance of the captain's tidings. Then she asked in a softer voice pitched to carry only to the captain's ears, "Hath any been named as more acceptable by those who reject Eldacar?"

"To my knowledge none hath been named by the opposition as yet, Helluin," the captain replied while'st shaking his head 'nay', "though no doubt those such as meditate upon challenging the succession hath candidates. Alas, the possibilities art too many rather than too few." Here he paused a moment ere continuing with more than a hint of sarcasm, "Were I to seek for one to support in a bid to usurp the throne, t'would be one of noble blood with recent kinship to the ruling kings; the more recent that kinship, the better. I should also seek for one already known and esteemed by the people; a trusted statesman, renowned captain or wealthy philanthropist perhaps."

"King Valacar had but one wife and one son," Beinvír said, "so who stands closest to the throne?"

For several moments Captain Haldad stood silent in thought ere he answered, and with no small measure of uncertainty.

"Perhaps t'would be _Mírendil_, granddaughter of Calmacil's younger sister _Merendisse_, or maybe _Castamir_, eldest grandson of Minalcar's younger brother Calimehtar, or even _Haryonwe_, Castamir's eldest matrilineal cousin. There are others, I am sure," he said with a shrug while'st shaking his head. "Whither royalty is concerned, much energy is spent in calculating proximity to the throne and the order of succession. Alas, such art intended for an uncontested succession." (**Mírendil, **_**Jewel-Lover **__**mire**_(jewel) + _**-ndil**_(agent in names; -lover of) Quenya **Merendisse, **_**Party-Girl**__**merenda-**_(feast, party) _**-isse**_(fem. agent) Quenya **Castamir, **_**Caretaker = casta-**_(care for, tend) _**-mir**_(agent in names; 'one who'_ tends_) Quenya **Haryonwe, **_**Princely-One**__**haryon**_(prince, heir) _**-we**_(masc. agent in names) Quenya**)**

All fell silent, pondering the possibilities. The mention of Castamir agreed with the rede of Fónathron and the messengers from Imladris.

_So t'will be he, or she, who commands the greatest measure of influence, _Beinvír commented silently to Helluin as their eyes met.

_Aye, _the Noldo agreed with a groan, _and such influence may come to be that which most easily commands a mob._

Now after exchanging farewells, the two ellith parted with Captain Haldad and the guard company of the gate, and they went forth into the city of Osgiliath. Upon that fine summer morn they marked that the growth of the city upon the western shore had been extensive since their last visit. Indeed the wall and gate through which they had entered was't o'er three furlongs further inland than in the days of Berúthiel. The broad avenue they trod 'twixt the gate and the central bridge of the city was't lined with fashionable businesses of all sorts, yet down side streets the Elves could see shabbier premises and less well constructed buildings bracketing narrower and more poorly constructed ways. An even better vantage they gained when they'd ascended the fifty foot breadth of the causeway to the bridge. Thither they turned their eyes from the grand buildings ahead and paused to view a less picturesque quarter of the City of Kings. 'Neath them now wound rough cobbled streets and buildings of poorly fired brick that grew ever meaner the closer they marched down to the water, 'til 'twas 'naught but thatched roof hovels of wood on dirt tracks lining a muddy bank.

"From thither _adaib foeg_**¹ **no noble usurper shalt come," the Green Elf observed.** ¹****(adaib foeg, **_**poor houses **__**adaib**_(houses) _**foeg**_(mean, poor, bad) gen. construc. Sindarin**)**

Helluin nodded while'st watching those few inhabitants upon the streets below. These were poorly dressed, some in laborers' clothes; perhaps hands who worked at the docks located furthest upstream and downstream, whither the city wall met Anduin.

"Amongst the _mudianin_**¹ **the greater concern is the day's wages and whether such shalt be found on the morrow," Helluin said. "These folk shalt suffer much for any unrest to come." **¹****(mudianin, **_**those who toil = mudo-**_(toil) _**+ -ian**_(obj. suff, n on v) + _**-in**_(pl suff) Sindarin**)**

Leaving behind this sad vista, the two ellith made their way onto the bridge, and such was't its breadth of twenty-five fathoms that at times 'twas difficult to remember that they were indeed upon a bridge at all, and not upon solid ground. To either side rose fine stone buildings of many stories that blocked any sight of the river; fashionable residences and fine shops there were, comfortable inns and restaurants stood beside the offices of professionals and a few houses of the more prestigious guilds. About them moved the well-to-do citizens of Osgiliath, going about their business. Some gave them sidelong glances, for their rough clothes, stained boots, travel bags and weapons were far from common.

An approaching mother edged her two children away from the ellith's path, passing them in a nervous hush. From an outdoor table at a café, a well-dressed couple watched them, suspicion in their eyes as they whispered 'twixt themselves. A similar look they received from a group of passing soldiers.

"I sense not the welcome of days past," Beinvír remarked.

"Aye, and I hath yet to see a cat, either black or white."

"Still, I wonder how far such attitudes towards travelers prevail?"

"I suppose we shalt discover that soon enough," Helluin replied. Her growing sense of foreboding had whelped a grim expression.

Indeed they discovered the lessened hospitality of Osgiliath well ere noon. At the first inn they came to, the owner turned them away with a scowl. At the second, 'twas suggested they find lodgings, _'more appropriate to their station'_ in the precincts _'off-bridge'. _ They didn't try a third.

The same held true when they sought a meal. They were thrice turned away at the door. At the last establishment, the___herdir mádad_**¹** had looked down his nose at them 'cross the threshold and told them to, _'be away, we cater not to urchins of the woods'_. By then Helluin was't seething and Beinvír saddened as well as hungry. **¹****(**_**herdir mádad, **_**maître d'hôtel **_(lit. master of eating)__** = herdir**_(master) + _**mád**_(eat) + _**-ad**_(gerund suff; _eating_) genitive construction, Sindarin**)**

"Soon I shalt be full-willing to snare a cat and spit roast it in the middle of the street," the Green Elf said as they walked back down the causeway and off the bridge.

"And soon I shalt be full-willing to carve a hostler upon his own board," Helluin muttered. She was't sick of the rejection and the suspicious glances and the shying away of strangers. "T'would think 'twas a plague from the Black Land we carried, for crying aloud."

Her words were greeted by a low chuckle, and when she turned to the sound she saw a young Man, somewhat shorter and stockier than the Dúnedain, and with an unruly shock of light brown hair that o'erhung his forehead and half-concealed his dark eyes. He was't dressed as a hunter and carried both a bulging game bag and a bow. Since the guards at the gate, he was't the first to meet them with a smile.

"Pray pardon thy reception from these fine folk, m'ladies," he said while'st sketching a mockery of a courtly bow and gesturing behind them to the city with an exaggerated flourish. "'Tis the nature of many to affect the airs of the high-born though they themselves be no more than shop-keepers and clerks."

"'Tis so throughout the city then?" Beinvír asked.

The young Man shook his head 'nay'.

"'Tis so most with those grasping at nobility and seeking to raise their station, mostly in their own eyes," he said with another chuckle. "'Tis worst amongst those with some wealth but no title. The nobles art as they hath ever been, I wager; born to riches and power and needing not to grasp for such at every moment. Scant welcome thou shalt find upon the bridge ere thou come to the city center."

"What deem thou that we should find thither?" Helluin asked.

"Both true nobles who shan't deign to notice thee at all, and such as art more used to strangers, for many come hither from far off lands in embassy to the court."

"Then a better welcome we may find thither," Helluin said, "for we hath come seeking tidings on behalf of Lord Elrond of Imladris."

The young Man's eyes fairly started from his head. For the first time his cynicism and sarcasm were replaced by surprise. For the first time he looked at the two closely enough to mark the tips of their ears, the unnatural fairness of their faces and the light in their eyes.

"If my eyes deceive me not, thou art Elvish folk. 'Tis long since thy kind hath been seen in the city. Of the far land of Imladris some tales tell, and so too do some tell of the wisdom of the Lord Elrond, yet I wager that none living hither hath seen either."

"I should not take thy wager," Beinvír agreed, "for the Lord Elrond last stood in the realm of Gondor during the reign of Isildur and Anárion, while'st visitors from Gondor to the Hidden Valley art rare."

The young Man nodded, for he knew 'naught to gainsay her.

"To the city center we shalt go," Helluin decided, "yet we would sup ere we again walk the gauntlet of the bridge and its fine folk. Know thou a place wherein wretched urchins such as we might find bread and cheese and perhaps a flagon of ale?"

"Aye, that I do," he said, pointing to a building some two blocks down a side street off the causeway, "and I shalt be glad to walk with thee for I know the owner and hath come to bring him a brace of pheasants and other fowl I hath lately shot."

The two ellith were very agreeable to this and the three made their way off the causeway and down the street.

"I am called Boromir the Hunter," he said by way of introduction. Helluin and Beinvír gave their names in return, but they brought no sign of recognition.

In the common room of a bustling inn called _The Knave's Redoubt_ they found a hearty meal of basic fare and better than expected ale. 'Twas an establishment catering to the hard working common folk of the city whose concerns included little snobbery and few pretenses. They were paid no undue attention, which was't quite welcome. Amidst laborers and locals, their travel worn garments passed without notice, for none of the patrons seemed inclined to frills or frippery in dress or speech. Beinvír's bow and Helluin's sword, indeed even her armor, barely drew a glance. They were reminded of many an inn and roadhouse they'd visited in their travels, and finally they felt comfortable in Osgiliath.

On his way out after a bout of loud but good natured haggling with the owner, Boromir stopped at their table and bid them good fortune.

"…and if they raise thy ire with their pretense, just do as I do and imagine them alone at night in the woods," he said, ere offering a wink and taking his leave.

"…and if their food lies as heavy in thy bellies as their manners, pray come again hither for a meal," the innkeeper called out to them from 'cross the room, his jest greeted with much laughter from the other patrons.

Now after finishing their meal, Helluin and Beinvír made their way back onto the causeway and thence walked the broad avenue of the bridge, ignoring such looks and comments of suspicion and disapproval as were directed towards them. Ere they reached the city center, the woods in Beinvír's imagination was't well populated with the pretenders to gentry of the City of Kings.

They came at last to a precinct set apart by an encircling avenue, within which stood the great buildings of the monarchy, with the tower, the royal audience hall, and the Dome of Stars at their center. Outside this avenue stood the mansions of the nobility, the grand theaters, the lodge houses of exclusive orders, and the halls of a few prestigious clubs. Thither did the bridge stand upon many pilings founded upon the solid bedrock 'neath the shifting bed of the river. O'er the long years of the South Kingdom, pilings had been added for to broaden the way, so that by the reign of Eldacar, the royal precinct encompassed some hundred and ten fathoms in length by fifty-five fathoms in width, or about five acres. 'Twas an island of stone, built by the mason-craft of Gondor, that rose some six fathoms above the maximum spring flood crest, but in summer, some eight fathoms above the water.

The two ellith marked the presence of many troops moving about, walking informally while'st off-duty oir marching in units on patrol. These were from the city guard of Osgiliath rather than Gondor's regular army and wore black surcoats emblazoned with the emblem of the White Tree over bright mail. In several locations they noted the gathering of citizens who stood harkening to orators. These groups varied much in temperament, some listening respectfully, others cheering, and in one case, heckling. This last group had dawn the attention of a company of soldiers who stood beyond the margins of the crowd, warily watching for violence.

"T'would seem 'tis much discussion afoot," Beinvír remarked.

"More like a few hath much to say," Helluin replied, "while'st many art willing to harken."

At that moment the heckling graduated to threats and the two ellith could see things being thrown at the speaker. He in turn loudly denounced the crowd, gesturing wildly ere being hauled down by his most vehement detractors. Predictably, the soldiers waded in, dispersing the crowd and subduing the assailants. These they took away, along with the speaker, marching them 'twixt their columns like common criminals, and disappearing down an avenue into the city center. By then, some of the dispersed crowd had passed Helluin and Beinvír, offering dirty looks and a few unfriendly comments.

"I suppose t'would be well that we seek to execute our embassy upon Elrond's behalf," the Green Elf said, "for I deem t'would be better to come as representatives of a far away land than be hauled thus before the judiciary as…knaves."

"Thou art correct, beloved, and we shalt begin by introducing ourselves to yonder company," Helluin said, catching Beinvír's eye and directing her with a quirk of a brow, "aye, those now headed towards us…as if we carry some plague of the Black Land."

Indeed a company of soldiers of Gondor were headed towards the two ellith, intent on discovering the reasons for their presence 'nigh an incident of civil unrest, they being armed strangers and in no way proper citizens of the realm. One glance at the detail commander left no doubts of his suspicion…indeed it came to the Noldo that he expected them to flee, for he was't watching them like a hawk and had ordered his Men to hasten their approach. In hopes of displacing his doubts, Helluin and Beinvír walked towards them at a relaxed pace. When they had closed the distance to three fathoms, Helluin addressed the commander, whom she marked bore the rank-badge of a sergeant.

"Hail and well met, Sergeant-Commander, we art Helluin Maeg-mórmenel and Beinvír Laiquende, travelers from afar, come to the City of Kings seeking tidings of the South Kingdom on behalf of Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Imladris. Of late we hath spoken of our errand with Captain Haldad at thy west gate, and ere that with Captain Hathol upon Parth Galen. Both gave us leave to pass."

The sergeant called his company to a halt, and for many moments he looked the two in the eyes. Ere he could challenge them, they had spoken fair, stating their names and their errand. 'Twas hardly the conduct of spies, scoundrels or agitators. The two captains he knew by name though not personally, and the name of Elrond was't also known. The rest was't above his authority to validate or question. They had, however, claimed to be an official embassy from a foreign sovereign, and despite their bedraggled appearance, this demanded that he escort them to one more highly placed, for their errand constituted diplomacy, and that was't…politics.

"Hail and well met, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel and Beinvír Laiquende," he said, with professional courtesy, "I bid thee accept our escort to my captain. He hast the authority to convey thee to such officials as may satisfy thy inquiry."

"Our thanks for thy aid, good sergeant," Beinvír replied. She offered a smile and he replied with a nod and a grunt.

They were marched down an avenue 'twixt columns of soldiers, _much like common criminals_, Helluin thought, and after a couple of turns, into the antechamber of a gated building with thick walls of its own, which stood a good distance from the Tower and the Dome of Stars. They remained in the large antechamber, with the soldiers about them, while'st the sergeant went off to report to his captain. Some distance away, the speaker they'd watched being heckled, and some dozen of his most antagonistic audience, were arguing with a captain while'st his sergeant and troops stood by ready to intercede. Catching Beinvír's eyes, Helluin spoke to her beloved in silence.

_T'would appear from the current company that we hath been conveyed to the goal of the City of Kings, meldanya._

**To Be Continued**


	117. In An Age Before Chapter 117

**Chapter 117**

Now after a wait of one quarter-hour the sergeant returned with an older Dúnadan bearing the rank of captain. This Man greeted them far more warmly, dismissed the sergeant and his company back to their post, and conveyed the two ellith to a well appointed office not far down a hall. Thither he bid them seat themselves on a couch of surprising comfort. More surprisingly, he provided refreshments; wine from a vineyard in Ithilien and cakes with poppy seeds adorning their tops. Most surprisingly, he knew their history with Gondor and the Dúnedain, as one versed in lore from days long past.

"I am Captain Beleg and I hath served in the Guard of Osgiliath for two score and seven years. On behalf of King Eldacar, I confirm the king's grace to thee both...and I offer thee apologies for thy prior lack of welcome. The times grow hard and suspicion is rampant," he explained, and after a pause added, "the attentions of Gondor hath turned increasingly inward since thy last visit, and so too hast much history been neglected by the populace. That my sergeant would fail to recognize and welcome thee, _Cónhal_ Beinvír and Helluin _Úlairdacil_**¹ **saddens me, for at the same time when Men increasingly esteem their lineages, they forget the history that gives them value." **¹****(**_**Úlairdacil, **_**Ghost-Victor** _(victor over the Nazgûl)__**úlaire**_ (ghost) _**tacil**_(victor) Quenya *referenced corrections of this construction are welcome**)**

The ellith briefly dipped their heads to acknowledge the captain's apology. Beinvír caught Helluin's eyes, and smiling, spoke to her silently.

_So thou too hath acquired a title amongst the Dúnedain of the south, meldanya._

"Long we hath been absent from the South Kingdom, good captain, and little do I wonder at the lack of recognition now," Beinvír said. "'Tis heartwarming to know that some remember us."

"My thanks for thy understanding of the memory of Mortals," Captain Beleg replied. "Yet still, those who serve Gondor at arms should recall thy parts in our greatest war, for thy deeds in no small way saved this land from becoming the west province of Mordor."

"…_it hast been of old the special charge of those who rule this realm to keep and defend it against Sauron and the enemies yonder in Mordor. The realm thou raise shalt be the bulwark of the west._ So I charged the Lords Isildur and Anárion ere the founding of the realm of Gondor," Helluin said, remembering the morn so long ago when she and Beinvír had brought the brothers, newcomers from the wreck of Númenor, to the Hallow upon Mindolluin. "Never since hath their realm faltered in its duty, and in this, we too art charged to do all we can."

The captain nodded in understanding. Gondor had inherited, not created, its role as chief foe of the Enemy. Before the first Kings of Gondor, others had shouldered the duty and the dread of opposing Sauron. Yet now there was't dissention within the realm charged with being _the bulwark of the west_.

"Helluin and Beinvír, thou hath traveled far in thy embassy from the Lord Elrond, for the road 'twixt Imladris and Osgiliath is long," the captain said. "The tidings thou seek shalt be provided, yet such shalt not come to pass in an hour, nor perhaps even in a day. Therefore I bid thee accept the hospitality of the royal house. Thou shalt hath lodgings 'nigh the audience hall, for I deem that our lord shalt wish to meet with thee himself. Messengers hath been sent announcing thy presence to the court. T'will be time for thee to rest and sup while'st the reply is pending."

To this the two ellith were very agreeable, having aforetime been turned away from inns upon the bridge; twice in search of lodgings and thrice while'st seeking a meal. A knock on the door of the captain's office announced the arrival of a chamberlain whom, after offering their farewells to Captain Beleg, they followed from the _gaol_ and down a series of streets towards the royal precinct. The chamberlain was't a stuffy functionary who wore o'er proudly the livery of the court, looked down his nose at the ellith and said 'naught to them, replacing words with gestures. He conveyed them hence to a comfortable apartment 'nigh the Royal Audience Hall, presented a portfolio containing a menu and a map, and withdrew with a bow much like that which Boromir the Hunter had parodied upon the causeway. His relief at being rid of them was't well 'nigh palpable and the ellith were glad to be done with his company as well.

Using the time, they proceeded to bathing and the cleaning of their attire, both relishing the resulting absence of the grime of travel. With wood already provided they kindled a fire in the ample hearth and dried their clothing. Thereafter they consulted the map and chose a dining hall close by, viewing it from outside and intending to patronize it later for their dinner.

"This shalt never do," the Green Elf whispered, as they marked the opulence of the interior and the fine dress of the diners. 'Twas wholly formal and indeed, fit for kings.

"Aye," Helluin agreed, "an embassy of _urchins _shalt reflect poorly upon the Lord Elrond and saddle us with the disadvantage of apparent poverty. Come, let us seek a seamstress."

It took the remainder of the afternoon, but the two ellith did indeed acquire raiment appropriate to their station.

"We look now fit for a soiree which Lady Nimrodel would'st feel proper," Beinvír observed. She was't clad in a corset bodice, full-length gown of layered deep green silk tulle o'erlain with lace. The ¾ sleeves too were of lace, as was't the whole above the top of the corset, up to the collar. _At least the skirts art of a length sufficient to hide my boots,_ she thought.

Helluin had felt much put out in that her gown of indigo chiffon silk required that she forgo her armor, and Anguirél had chaffed to be left behind, for her gown had no belt by which to affix a scabbard. After a polite argument, the seamstress had grudgingly relented and created a short capelet that allowed Helluin to carry the Sarchram unmarked at her back.

"Gold coins of Khazad-dûm hath we spent upon such finery," the Noldo carped, "and I am forced to lay aside my armor with whose price I could'st buy much of this city."

The Green Elf rolled her eyes, but she too felt unsettled as she set aside her bow, quiver and fighting knives. _For so long hath we gone about the lands armed that 'tis well 'nigh unnatural for us to forbear weapons._

Their return to the dining hall brought forth all the obsequious attentions of which the staff was't capable, and to which their fine raiment entitled them. Polite and appreciative looks from the other diners greeted their perusal of the surroundings. Throughout the meal the ellith felt themselves thespians, the setting a stage, and the others present a supporting cast. 'Twas much to their credit that they retained their comportment 'til they had retired to their apartment, at which time both broke into uncontrollable fits of mirth at such a rampant display of pretention.

A sharp rap on their chamber door silenced their laughter. For a moment the two ellith stared at each other in surprise while'st a soft breeze stirred the lamplight, making the shadows shift around them.

"'Tis perhaps some word from the court?" Beinvír guessed.

"'Tis late for official business," Helluin replied, doubtfully looking towards the door.

When the knock was't repeated she stood and strode thither and opened the door to reveal a tall Man in a hooded cloak of deep gray, pinned at the throat with a silver broach in the form of a rearing horse. He stood a pace back from her in the hall, his hands empty and visible, held out to his sides.

At her questioning glance he spoke in a soft, clear voice, "Pray pardon the intrusion, m'lady. I am alone and wished to first meet thee absent the prying eyes of the court."

Her attention at once sharp, but feeling no threat, the Noldo stood aside allowing the stranger to enter. Though he displayed no badge of rank, his words told her all she needed to place him true.

"Thou art ever welcome hither, O King, and thou art welcome to whatsoever service we might render," she said, well suppressing her shock at his presence.

Her use of _we _confused him at first for he thought her alone, yet in the moment of his movement to draw back his hood, a second elleth appeared, seemingly materialized from 'naught but air and shadow as a wraith suddenly made visible in the lamplight. He blinked and stared. The Green Elf offered him a smile and resheathed a long silver knife.

"King Eldacar…my _melda_ _fëa_ _vesse_, Beinvír Laiquende," Helluin said as she moved to stand beside her soulmate.

The Green Elf graced the still shocked king with a formal bow which he returned almost as a reflex. Then he stared at them in amazement for some moments, looking back and forth 'twixt the two as they in turn looked at him.

_He appears to my eyes a full-blooded scion of the Isle of Kings, my love,_ Helluin silently told the Green Elf, who subtly nodded in agreement.

"In my grandfather's hall in the North there is a tapestry woven long ago that depicts thee in battle with a Dwarf army," he finally said. "Save for thy raiment, I should recognize thee at once. Indeed I would say thou art unchanged. 'Tis a wonder to me, for that tapestry is now 'nigh on 400 years old, and though 'tis said that the Eldar change not with the passing years, still 'tis a shock to be met thus with the proof."

"'Tis to us as yesterday, the memory of thy mother's great-great-great-grandsire, King Ërlick," she said. "A great king he was't and great good did he and Queen Brekka bring to thy people." _And he was't my friend._

"Our esteem for King Ërlick adds yet another cause for us to support thee," Beinvír added.

King Eldacar gave a sigh of relief at her declaration.

"Thou has't answered my most pressing question," he said, "for ere welcoming thee formally in court tomorrow, I would'st know if thou supported the succession. 'Tis much dissent amongst the nobles, and to hath thee, emissaries from the Eldar, our ancient friends and allies, refute the succession would'st hath spelt disaster. Gondor stands upon the verge of civil war, and such may yet come to pass, but I deem the support of thee who saw Gondor's founding, shalt weigh heavily in favor of peace."

"Lord Eldacar," Helluin said, "thou art the only son and heir of thy father. I support thee, for to me the blending of thy blood, Dúnedain and Northman, is no source of shame. The North men art valiant, true-hearted and strong; faithful allies to Gondor as were the Edain to my people long ago…and was't not the first king of Númenor, Elros Tar-Minyatur also a son of mixed blood, born of both Men and Elves? The Lord Elrond would'st support thee, for thou descend in right line from his brother. These things I shalt tell the court on the morrow." For a moment she paused, and then resumed, looking the king steadily in the eyes. "In thee too flows some measure of my own blood, passed down through two Ages of this world from my daughter, Almarian of Númenor who wed Irimon, Tar-Meneldur, and my granddaughter, Almiel who wed Numandil of Andúnië."

The king nodded his thanks and agreement, but then added, "so too could'st any claim who sought to supplant me, for they too would'st be of royal blood."

"Aforetime we hath heard the names of several offered in speculation, and one of these was't even given to us by the messengers of Elrond. Hath thou any greater certainty of who stands most likely to oppose thee?" the Green Elf asked.

To answer this query, an angry expression grew upon Eldacar's face, and he nodded that indeed such a name was't known to him.

"With confidence would'st I wager apples and oats that t'will be the Lord Castamir whom the dissenting nobles put forward as their choice," he said. "Well known is he; a strong commander of Men and experienced captain of ships. He descends from King Calmacil, being the grandson of my grandfather's younger brother, and though none would'st speak openly with favor of Calimehtar o'er Rómendacil II, the fault they find in me grows from a fault they see in my father. Like me, Castamir's father no longer lives, and so he is the closest and most obvious choice."

"Hath Castamir said 'aught in dissention?" Helluin asked.

"Nay," Eldacar said, "for he is a Man crafty in politics as well as battle. T'would fit his purposes better to be acclaimed by others and put forward with a mandate from the populace rather than by parading his own ambitions. He shalt speak fair if need be, withholding his hand, I wager, 'til called upon by the nobles to accept the crown."

"And in the meantime he shalt be preparing, as a veteran campaigner surely would'st, to act swiftly when called upon and to seize the throne with force if necessary, all in the name of the good of the people," Helluin speculated. The thoughts left her unsettled.

To this the king nodded in agreement.

"Whither doth Castamir reside and draw his strength and support?" Beinvír asked.

"Castamir is Lord Captain of the King's Ships and his official posting is at Pelargir, but the strength of the navy lies berthed at the Haven of Umbar. Amongst the Southern Army he is a very popular commander, well known and well respected. Thither is the heart of the realm he would'st extend northwards to the capital."

"And what strength of ships and Men could'st Castamir command, O King?" Helluin asked.

"The Navy of Gondor includes some 150 ships of war with full crews of sailors and marines, while'st the Southern Army now counts some 25,000 a-horse and foot," Eldacar recited. After several further moments thought he added, "to these may be added such household militias as serve nobles supporting Castamir…a guess would'st make their count perhaps another one and one-half thousands."

For some moments Helluin stood silently digesting King Eldacar's information, and she marked the date, 'nigh on ten hours past noon upon 11 Nórui, (June 11th). From her flawless memory she recalled a conversation in the Queen's study in Armenelos, upon their embassy to Tar-Telperien of Númenor, in Narbeleth of S.A. 1601. _"Would thou be pleased to know then that well 'nigh 400 ships now fly the pennant of the Crown of Númenor? That upon each can sail a company of 200 soldiers with their horses and gear?" The Navy of Gondor stands fully capable of transporting the Southern Army to battle,_ she thought. Then she reviewed the words of Minastir, the queen's heir, which had followed, _"…in little more than a fortnight can we marshal and sail to thy aid. We need only hear word of battle and we shalt sail for Lindon." _Helluin and Beinvír had known the truth of his words._ Even on a cargo transport they had just made the crossing in eight days._

'Twas roughly 615 sea miles from Umbar to Ethir Anduin, and thence another 145 miles upstream to Pelargir…750 miles in all. In S.A. 1601, the Queen's Ship _Valacirca_ had made the crossing of 1,900 miles from Númenor to Mithlond in but 4 days, while'st the heavily laden cargo ship _Viava Laireo_ had been only 8 days sailing outbound. 'Twas now high summer and a ship of sea draught would'st be in jeopardy of grounding north of Pelargir, but still…

_42 days it hast been since the coronation of Eldacar upon 1 Lothron…42 days! 'Tis sure that the succession of Valacar by Eldacar hast been long foreseen and the opposition planning for it, perhaps for many years now. Even if a decision to act was't delayed and Castamir's forces art not so swift to deploy as was't the Army of Númenor aforetime, still they could'st be upon us at any time. And the Northern Army hast been neither mustered nor deployed for the defense of Osgiliath. Too late! We art too late!_

"My Lord Eldacar, I fear the civilities of our embassy must wait and the needs of action take precedence," the Noldo said, "for I deem 'tis likely that all too soon we shalt find the might of the south arrayed against Osgiliath. What strength at arms loyal to thee lies within a day's march of the capital?"

The king stared at her in shock. No movements of ships or Men had been reported from the southern fiefs…and yet, were a conspiracy indeed afoot, would'st not such reports hath been suppressed? If Pelargir and the lands south were rising against the crown, would'st he know of it? 'Twas summer and Anduin ran low, yet he knew that even great ships could sail and anchor at Pelargir for to disgorge the troops of Umbar, and they would'st be then but 165 miles to the south, no more than a few days ride from Osgiliath upon flat and well paved roads.

"There art the garrisons of Minas Anor and Minas Ithil, some four thousands total," the king said, thinking aloud now, "but these must remain in place to defend those cities. The garrison of Osgiliath with the city guards number but three thousands. Within a day's ride art but several outposts upon the roads to Anórien and Lebennin, perhaps another thousand all told. Think thou truly that we shalt be saddled with the defense of Osgiliath, with four thousands standing against thirty?"

"My counsel would'st be for haste," Helluin replied. "Send word at once to draw in all such as may be within riding distance, and send word also south to the Rangers of Lebennin for these art loyal to thee, though too far perhaps to join the defense from within the city. Send word also to Anórien and holdings north; Cair Andros, Parth Galen, Orthanc, and even to thy brothers in Rhovanion."

And so now he knew his peril, Vinitharya of Rhovanion, newly crowned 21st King of Gondor. He drew his hood back o'er his head and turned for the door.

"What aid may we offer, O King?" Helluin asked.

Turning back, Eldacar regarded them with sharp eyes, now alight with the thought of impending battle. In truth, despite the horror and heartbreak he knew would'st come, he was't almost relieved to know the truth of how things stood, for like his northern kin, more comfortable was't he with an enemy known whom he could'st face with a sword, than with the tiresome plotting and veiled threats that made up the intrigues of court.

"Prepare thyselves for war, and if thou can'st contrive it, send word to the Rangers, for I deem that to the words of no others shalt that peoples harken sooner than thine, _First Guardians_. Yes, I know somewhat of history and thy place in it," he said, and after a pause to look at them added, "and get out of those clothes. T'will not be to the court thou shalt go on the morrow, but to a counsel of war whither I shalt need thee."

The door closed behind him and the two ellith were again alone.

"An inexperienced king is he, meldanya," Beinvír observed.

"Aye, but a decisive warrior, I wager," the Noldo replied.

"Still, how art we to attend a counsel of war on the morrow and yet send word to the Rangers of Lebennin in time? To come to Lebennin as soon as may be, we should leave Osgiliath this very hour, yet if memory serves, 'tis 20 leagues to the crossing of the South Road and the River Erui whither was't the nearest command. That road is perhaps already held by the enemy coming north from Pelargir, and any messengers the king sends south shalt likely be waylaid. Stealth shalt be needed. I should go alone."

To Helluin, the thought of Beinvír traveling alone towards the enemy made her stomach clench. Worse, even were her errand a success, upon her return the Green Elf might find Osgiliath invested, and passing through a hostile army's gauntlet during a siege was't a great jeopardy indeed. And yet what she had said made sense. One only of them was't needed to carry the king's message south, and of the two of them, 'twas Beinvír who had last stood in command of the Rangers.

As if reading her thought, Beinvír said, "More than once aforetime hast chance forced us to take separate paths, and n'er hath such been welcome, yet ever hath we been rejoined after. I believe t'will be so again, meldanya, and so indeed I fear more for thee, within the walls of the enemy's target. Besides, 'tis likely if any movements so great as we suspect hath come to pass, t'will be Rangers watching from Ethir Anduin all the way north to Osgiliath. Mayhaps I need go only a league beyond the walls to find some. Indeed, if I take my leave now, I may even return ere the king's counsel of war."

And now 'twas Helluin who felt the helpless demand to agree with the dictates of necessity and the arguments of reason, and to accept a course repellant and abhorrent. _So she must hath felt when I left her in Ithilien for to assail Mt. Doom, and when I sent her to Thranduil while'st I went to Dol Gúldúr. And yet for all my misgivings, 'tis 'naught I can muster to gainsay her, for all she hath said rings true._

'Twas with a grim expression that Helluin nodded her agreement with her beloved's course, and they took to changing out of their new finery and back into the raiment of travelers long in the Wild. And when they stood again dressed as they had come to the City of Kings, and Beinvír prepared to take her leave, Helluin could only hold her close and desperately whisper in her ear, _"Noch mae, meleth nín. Rinno na nin!_**¹**_" _**¹****(**_**Noch mae meleth nín. Rinno na nin!,**_** Be well, my love. Return to me! =**_** No-**_(be) + _**-ch**_(2nd pers sing subj suff, _you_) + _**mae**_(well/good) + _**meleth**_(love) + _**nín**_(1st pers sing poss pro, _my_) _**Rinno-**_(return) + _**-o**_(imp replacing stem vowel) + _**na**_(to) + _**nin**_(1st pers dir obj pro, _me_) Sindarin**)**

**To be Continued**


	118. In An Age Before Chapter 118

**Chapter 118**

'Twas a dour Helluin, grim of face and sharp of eye, who joined the king's council of war on the morrow. Beinvír had taken her leave almost immediately following their embrace the night before and 'naught had been heard from her since. Anor had risen but an hour afore, 'neath a spreading pall of clouds from the sea and a rising haze to the south which the breeze brought hence. Upon it had come the scent of smoke. The land upriver from Pelargir was't burning, and like an approaching storm that consumes the land beneath with deluge and shadow, war was't grinding its way north to the City of Kings. 'Twas the seventh hour of the morn of 12 Nórui, (June 12th), T.A. 1432.

The Lord Eldacar sat at the head of a long table, in a tall-columned room of high ceiling, with many-paned windows that looked down the river to the south. Attending him were the captains of the city guard and the garrison of Osgiliath. Upon his right hand sat the Noldo, and to her right, an empty chair reserved for the Green Elf. Upon his left sat _Borgil_**¹** son of_Mághin_**²**, Captain-General of the Northern Army. Beyond him were _Thavron_**³ **of Emyn Arnen and _Celegúr_**4**of Lossarnach, trusted captains of the garrison of Osgiliath. The next two upon the left were Northmen, tall riders with long, dirty blonde hair and ice blue eyes, knights and kinsmen of the royal house of Vidugavia, they were the captains of the company who had come south with their prince to be his special bodyguards when he became king. _Anræd_**5** and _Hæleþ_**6** were their names. The chair beyond the one reserved for Beinvír held a stocky Man of late middle age, brown haired and hazel eyed, quiet and economical of movement, soft spoken, but with a sharp and piercing glance. He had been introduced to Helluin by the king as _Pengthír_**7** of Lebennin and had dipped his head to the Noldo, while'st touching the black _Sarchram_ broach at his throat, then cast a questioning glance to the empty chair 'twixt them. **¹****(**_**Borgil,**_** Betelgeuse** Sindarin**) ****²****(**_**Mághin, **_**Sharp Eyes = **_**maeg**_(sharp)_**hind**_(eyes) In Sindarin names, the diphthong _–ae goes to –á_ and the final consonants _–nd_ become _–n_. Sindarin**) ****3****(**_**Thavron, **_**Carpenter** Sindarin**) ****4****(**_**Celegúr,**_** Swift One = **_**celeg**_(swift) _**-úr**_(intensive agent suff, n on adj) **5****(**_**Anræd**_**, Resolute** Old English**) ****6****(**_**Hæleþ**_**, Hero** Old English**) ****7****(**_**Pengthír, **_**Bowman = **_**peng**_(bow for shooting) _**dír**_(man; not an adan of the 3 Houses) In Sindarin names, _–d _changes to_ –th. _Sindarin**)**

"Thou seek _Cónhal_ Beinvír," the king told him, having marked both his gesture of greeting and his query. "Helluin hath told me she went forth some nine hours past, seeking thy Rangers 'nigh the crossing of Erui."

"Far closer than the Erui shalt she find them," Pengthír replied, "and of what hath come to pass in the south I am come to inform thee, my King."

"Perhaps then 'tis with thy report that our council should begin," King Eldacar said. "Tell us what thou can'st of the actions in the south, I pray thee."

Pengthír nodded to the king and swept his eyes o'er the others at the table, then returned his attention to Eldacar and began.

"Upon the morn of 8 Nórui, now four days past, scouts reported an armada approaching Ethir Anduin," the Ranger said. "They marked the pennant of Gondor upon each ship, and the pennant of the Lord-Captain upon the mast of the flagship. At first we thought the flotilla sailed to honor the new-crowned king, so we watched only and raised no alarm. They entered Ethir Anduin and began sailing upriver in the afternoon of the 8th, and by the early morn of the 10th had reached Pelargir. Thither they docked and began offloading both troops and engines of siege. Greater now was't our interest, for we marked that 'twas no honor guard, but rather a strong force intent upon conquest.

The commander at Pelargir immediately dispatched riders west and north to put our people on alert. During the night of the 10th, Rangers in Pelargir o'erheard plans for an attack upon Osgiliath with the intent of seizing the crown. They also made the count of the invaders as some twenty-eight thousands from Umbar and surrounding estates 'neath the command of the Lord-Captain. My King, Lord Castamir is a traitor.

With Pelargir occupied, we assisted to flight as many as could be of the citizens who art loyal to thee, and began escorting them north. Other Ranger companies stationed along the road 'twixt Pelargir and Osgiliath joined this exodus, and these hath been reinforced with the first forces from Linhir, counting themselves some one and one-half thousands.

Upon the 11th the soldiers from Umbar began their march north and we hath harried them such as we could'st ever since. Late last night they took to burning such woods and fields as stood 'nigh the road for to deprive us of cover, yet the dark of night itself hid our archers and we hath reduced their count by perhaps one-half thousand. Knowing that with the coming morn of the 12th we would'st be forced to disengage and pull back somewhat, I rode with greatest haste to Osgiliath for to report these deeds to thee. Great indeed was't my shock to find thy city at unawares."

The others seated 'round the table looked uncomfortable, but Eldacar met Pengthír's eyes and asked, "by thy best reckoning, whither now would'st the enemy be and how soon shalt they reach Osgiliath?"

"My lord, Castamir's forces art spread in a moving column 'nigh eight miles long with its head some one hundred and thirty miles to the south. Their cavalry rides ahead of the infantry, securing their passage upon the road. So far they hath not ranged more than ten miles before the marching columns. Were they to ride at greatest speed, they could'st reach the city by the morrow's noon at the earliest, yet the main force of their infantry shalt only come 'nigh in the evening four days hence. M'lord, though the cavalry could'st invest Osgiliath as early as tomorrow, I wager the assault shalt not begin in earnest 'til the 17th."

"And what of the refugees of Pelargir?" Eldacar asked.

"They hath a day's lead on Castamir's infantry. 'Tis our intent to escort them north in haste, out of the battle zone, to Anórien. 'Tis as much to lessen the chance of saboteurs, if there be any amongst them, from entering Osgiliath, as 'tis for the safety of the non-combatants."

The king nodded in agreement with that wisdom.

"Thou hath said word was't sent west for to muster thy Rangers. What strength of numbers hath Lebennin in its service?" the king asked next.

"My king, Lebennin hath itself been long at peace, and though many serve thee in various posts, far fewer art now at arms than during time of war. Still, we count some fifteen thousands as active Rangers at all times, with another eight thousands as _cest e-mbarian_**¹**." **¹****(**_**cest e-mbarian, **_**home guard, **(_lit. caretakers of the homeland_) _**cast**_(caretaker) Forming the plural, the internal vowel _-a_ changes to _–e_ before 2 consonants. _**en**_(def article, sing, _the_) The final nasal of the article undergoes lenition and assimilates to the initial nasal of the object. + _**bar**_(home) + _**iand**_(land) In place names, the final consonants -_nd_ resolve to _–n. _Sindarin**)**

At a questioning glance from his king, Captain-General Borgil reported that, "Some six thousand Rangers of Lebennin serve at various posts with the Northern Army, m'lord, in Rhovanion, the Vale of Anduin, Anórien, Ithilien, and the southlands bordering the Ered Nimrais outside of Lebennin proper."

"So they art far flung and shan't reach the city ere the siege begins," Eldacar said.

"Such may be both a hurt and a blessing, O King," Helluin said, "for the Laiquendi, upon whose mode of warfare the Rangers art trained, fight not from within the confines of walls. Having such a count of troops free ranging at the enemy's back may prove a great distraction to their cause. At the very least it shalt sap 'aught of their strength from the assault upon the city."

"What the First Guardian says is true, m'lord," Pengthír added, "great distress the Rangers shalt bring upon our foes, and that pressure shalt increase with their numbers."

The king accepted the Ranger's words, for from his own experiences with cavalry in the north he knew well the value of roving companies and their ability to harass and inflict losses upon concentrated ranks of foes.

"Very well, Pengthír. My thanks for thy report and the efforts of thy Rangers."

The king next turned to his captains and asked after the preparedness of the city. As they began their reports, Helluin's mind wandered, for her concern was't for the welfare of her beloved. Pitted against Castamir's companies of the Southern Army, the Noldo had no doubts that by her stealth Beinvír could elude capture indefinitely. After hearing Pengthír's rede, she had little doubt that the Green Elf would find the Rangers of Lebennin too. 'Twas rather the simple distress of not knowing whither her beloved stood and into what dangers she had come that left Helluin ill at ease, and so she counted the time 'til Castamir's cavalry was't expected to arrive, and hoped the Green Elf would make her way back to Osgiliath ere the siege began.

Now the Green Elf had made her way from the city center, and thence the bridge with few marking her in the night's darkness, for though she moved with speed rather than stealth, amidst the shadows of the city she drew scant attention. The same was't true as she came down the causeway and through the streets of the west bank to the very gate through which she and Helluin had entered earlier the past day. Thither she found the gate closed, but the guards opened it at her request, for they had as yet no orders to secure it against any seeking to come or go. So 'twas that a half hour after taking her leave of Helluin, she began her journey south upon the road. Need of haste now drove her and she took flight, running with light swift steps 'neath Ithil's pale light.

With the lateness of the hour and the illusion of peace, the road 'twixt Osgiliath and Minas Anor lay still and quiet. She saw none and none saw her passing. 'Nigh midnight she had covered the sixteen miles from Osgiliath's wall to the fork whither the road branched off north to Anórien. Thither she continued south, soon passing the city of Minas Anor, and making her way into Lossarnach.

_A strong fortress is the Tower of the Sun, _she thought, _and sooner would'st I make a defense thither than in Osgiliath. Save perhaps for the Pinnacle of Orthanc, 'tis the strongest work of the South Kingdom. Even Isildur's Tower of the Moon in its encircling vale is less defensible…indeed twice aforetime hath it fallen. But to withstand a siege, Osgiliath is doubtless the worst of the three, approachable upon two sides by land and upon two sides by water…and with the count of numbers to defend it, I deem t'will fall. Helluin too must know this. T'will be as in Eregion with Ost-in-Edhil lost again, alas._

Suddenly she stopped and slipped off the road, into the tall grass that grew alongside the riding track on the western side of the paved way. The fast beat of hooves she had sensed, approaching quickly from behind her. 'Twas only a short time ere two riders flew past her at full gallop, dark cloaks and dark horses, but bearing a pennant of the royal house of Gondor.

_King Eldacar's errand riders! I pray they find the Rangers ere they meet Castamir's soldiers._

With the beat of hooves fading in the distance, the Green Elf resumed her race south upon the road, yet ere a mile had passed she slowed her pace, finally coming to a halt, standing and listening to the night breeze that carried the whispers of leaf, stalk and blade. She was't 'nigh the elbow whither Anduin turned its course again south to skirt the Emyn Arnen upon the further shore. And now she moved to the trees that grew to the east 'twixt the road and the river, and she made her way forward amongst them with stealth. In faint, sleepy whispers they hinted at a fateful meeting.

Two furlongs ahead she came upon three Rangers of Lebennin standing in the shadows of the trees, their strung bows in their hands, but no arrows knocked. Their attention was't upon the road whither the two errand riders of the king had dismounted and were speaking urgently with another five Rangers.

"Hail and well met, Rangers of Lebennin," she said softly as she walked towards them, barely to be seen even by their sharp eyes, "like yonder riders, I hath sought thee in haste on behalf of the king, for war comes and thou art called again to defend thy lord."

Now at her first words they turned swiftly to face her, drawing arrows from their quivers and knocking them upon their bow strings, but hearing her voice, Elven fair, they had not drawn or taken aim. In all their years as Rangers, n'er had they been taken at unawares, yet now they had been found by one alone whom they saw bore no weapon in hand. Like a wraith she moved, utterly silent afoot, cloaked as were they and bearing a bow o'er her shoulder. When she drew back her hood, they saw too the quiver of arrows at her back, and 'neath it, the pommels of twin fighting knives bracketing her long flowing hair.

Now when she had come to stand before them, all four of them still so silent that those upon the road had marked 'naught of their meeting, they saw she stood but to their shoulders. She was't now close enough for them to mark the fugitive light in her eyes and the compelling beauty of her features, and in that moment they knew her.

As one the three Rangers bowed their heads as they reached to touch the Sarchram broaches at their throats that clasped their cloaks.

_In the depths of night's shadows these Men know and honor me while'st 'neath the light of day the sergeant of Osgiliath did not._

"Hail and well met, First Guardian," the Ranger facing her most closely said, barely above a whisper. "I am _Dúrhen_**¹**.War hath come again indeed, and by the oath of our forefathers we stand in defense of King Eldacar."** ¹****(**_**Dúrhen,**_** Dark Eye **= _**dúr**_(dark) + _**hend**_(eye) In Sindarin names, the final consonants _–nd _simplify to _–n_ Sindarin**)**

"Pray tell me what thou hath seen," Beinvír asked.

"Cónhal Beinvír, t'would more properly be the place of our sergeant to give thee such a report," the Ranger Dúrhen told her, "and she is now engaged upon the road with the king's messengers."

The Green Elf nodded and stood silent for a moment in thought, then drew up her hood and began walking towards the road. The three Rangers remained behind in the shadows watching.

"This should'st be good," Dúrhen remarked, and the other two smiled.

Now the seven upon the road saw 'naught of her as she drew 'nigh. Even the five Rangers of Lebennin marked her not, and the king's messengers were totally oblivious to her approach. Then, as if conjured from thin air 'twixt one blink and the next, she stood amongst them, and for a moment she listened only, still unnoticed.

"..their infantry hast marched some sixty miles from Pelargir ere setting their camp this night," the sergeant of the Rangers told the king's messengers, "and so we expect them to come 'nigh the city upon the eve of the 17th, four days march hence."

"And what of their cavalry, Sergeant?" Beinvír asked as she drew back the hood of her cloak.

Both the Rangers and the king's messengers started, some laying their hands upon the hilts of the swords, some reaching to their quivers for arrows, all ruled by their warrior's reflexes. But the Green Elf made no moves and they stared at her in shock as they recovered from the suddenness of her appearance. Then, as had the three 'neath the trees, the five Rangers of Lebennin upon the road bowed their heads to her while'st touching the Sarchram broaches at their throats.

"Cónhal Beinvír, Lebennin stands now in posture of war and our forces muster at Linhir on behalf of the king," the sergeant reported. Then, turning to address the king's messengers, she said, "thou may tell King Eldacar that the Rangers of Lebennin art now 'neath the command of First Guardian Beinvír Laiquende, honoring the commission given her in time of war long ago by King Anárion."

"Then I deem our errand done," one of the messengers said, "and thou hast our thanks for thy tidings. We return now to Osgiliath."

The two then mounted, and after a final look at those upon the road, turned their mounts and rode for the city. When they had gone, Beinvír, with the five rangers, made their way off the road and back amongst the trees to rejoin the three waiting thither.

"Cónhal Beinvír, my name is _Tálviel_**¹ **and by thy leave I would'st send one of my detail to Linhir to report our meeting with the messengers of King Eldacar and how the city now stands," the sergeant said. "If 'tis thy will to come to Linhir, we hath horses enough that thou may accompany our messenger thither. He can'st take thee by ways unknown and unmarked by Castamir's cavalry…and to answer thy earlier query, these range some ten miles ahead of their infantry as a vanguard to secure the road, but hath not ridden ahead as a force alone. In this we count ourselves blessed, for in flight ahead of them art many from Pelargir who art loyal to the king." **¹****(**_**Tálviel, **_**Cat's Foot = **_**tál**_(foot)_**meil**_(f. cat) At the partition of Sindarin names, _-m_ changes to _–v_. Sindarin**)**

_I came not to take charge of the Rangers, but for information only, _Beinvír thought, _to hear and to give. Yet that mission hast been done by the messengers of the king, and now, how best to proceed?_

"Sergeant Tálviel, ere I left Osgiliath, the coming of Castamir's force was't a suspicion only, and this thou hast confirmed," Beinvír said. "Tell me all thou know of the enemy, I pray thee."

Now the sergeant of the Rangers spoke of what she had seen and her tale was't much the same as what Pengthír would'st tell the king's council on the following morn. The Green Elf harkened to her words, and the situation was't indeed as dire as what had been imagined in Osgiliath. One further thought came to her…a dark suspicion she had not had aforetime. _Osgiliath is doubtless the worst of the three, approachable upon two sides by land…_

"Sergeant, do Rangers keep watch upon the lands of South Ithilien, or upon the Harad Road beyond the crossing of the River Poros?"

"Nay, Cónhal Beinvír, they do not. Those serving with the king's army range north and west of Lebennin, save in time of war when we hath been deployed to battle 'cross Anduin. 'Twas so when thou commanded us in Ithilien for to cordon the forces of Mordor and retake King Isildur's city. Seldom hath we fought in Harondor…indeed, not since the days of Hyarmendacil."

For some time the Green Elf stood silent in thought. _To oppose the present threat the Rangers hath already all the tools they need. Yet another threat I suspect and 'naught stands now to confirm or counter it. And that threat could'st be close to hand…indeed as close as the threat now marching north from Pelargir. Alas, my love, I cannot return to thee in Osgiliath yet._

"Sergeant Tálviel, I shalt accompany thy messenger to Linhir," Beinvír said.

Now though the horses were kept apart from the meeting place of the Rangers and the king's messengers upon the road, still, within ten minutes the beat of two horses hooves racing through the night sounded in the quiet lands of Lossarnach south of Minas Anor. In the hours of darkness they kept to the riding track beside the road, and the Crossing of Erui they came to in the last hour ere Anor's rising. Thither they met with the Ranger Commander, telling of their meeting and their need of haste. Thither also had come, but an hour earlier after marching through the night, the exhausted and brokenhearted refugees of Pelargir. Then, after quickly breaking their fast, fresh horses carried them on their way as the king's council met in Osgiliath.

Beinvír and the Ranger, who named himself _Dínenon_**¹**, and said little else save at need, rode another hour ere leaving the South Road for an unpaved track leading southwest. This they followed through the day, breaking only to water and rest the horses. So passed 12 Nórui, and the 13th as well, during whose morning they forded the Sirith, counting themselves then halfway 'twixt Minas Anor and Linhir. **¹****(**_**Dínenon, **_**He who is silent = **_**dínen**_(silent) + _**-on**_(n on adj agent suff) Sindarin**)**

'Twas the evening of 14 Nórui when Beinvír and Dínenon finally arrived at Linhir, which stood whither the Lebennin Road crossed the head of a long firth into which emptied the combined waters of the rivers Gilrain and Serni. Like Pelargir, Linhir was't a crossroads and port, yet its access to the sea was't more direct, for at Linhir a ship need sail neither a delta, nor upriver as was't true of Pelargir upon Anduin.

Linhir was't an ancient town. Indeed it had already been so in S.A. 1847 when it had stood upon the borders of Belfalas and the newly sovereign land of Lebennin, and Helluin and Beinvír had become First Guardians at the behest of the Lady Galadriel. Dating from that time, Linhir reflected the vision of watchful and unseen strength, and so its eighty thousand citizens dwelt behind no walls or obvious defenses. Yet unlike the fortified port of Pelargir, Linhir would'st n'er be taken, nay, not even upon that dark day to come when embattled Linhir would'st be saved by the dead and the returning king.

Now Dínenon led Beinvír to the headquarters of the Rangers, and thither she met with the officers and captains who had gathered to marshal the defense. Yet though they would'st hath ceded command of their forces to her, she declined and requested only a company of sixty and passage upon swift ships of shallow draught that could'st navigate the River Poros. And she told them of her great need of haste.

"For as in days of old, 'tis my suspicion that strength of arms from Umbar and Harad shalt travel the Harad Road, for to come against the king from the land of Ithilien."

Immediately the call had gone forth to the assembled Rangers, and Beinvír had spent two hours selecting the sixty best at stealth and shooting from amongst the four hundreds who had volunteered. With her went a lieutenant and three sergeants, and these came to the docks and boarded three swift, two-masted staysail schooners. By midnight they had set sail and departed down the firth to the sea.

**To Be Continued**


	119. In An Age Before Chapter 119

**Chapter 119**

In Osgiliath the king's council of war had continued 'til 'nigh the noon hour, with many plans and many details being considered. 'Twas decided that the available cavalry should waylay the road south of Minas Anor, whither the southward bend of Anduin narrowed the land in Mindolluin's shadow. Thither would'st go such horsemen as were stationed in Osgiliath and the Tower of the Sun, along with the companies of Northmen 'neath the command of Anræd and Hæleþ. Their orders were to bloody and delay, as much as was't possible, the advance of Castamir's cavalry ere the infantry could'st join it, for King Eldacar would'st not cede the rich tillage of the Pellenor Fields and the approach to Osgiliath unfought. Other preparations for war there were to make…the mustering of reserves, the gathering of provisions, and the bringing within the walls those citizens who dwelt in the lands close by and chose not to flee north to Anárion. Within the city, counter batteries of artillery were placed, with their crews and shot, in the public spaces within the wall upon the western bank, while'st archers were stationed beside the watchmen upon the walls themselves. The preparations began at noon, carried out swiftly and efficiently 'neath the command of Thavronand Celegúr. Similar preparations were underway in Minas Anor, and by order of the king, in Minas Ithil as well, coordinated by Captain-General Borgil.

"By Pengthír's reckoning we hath still three days grace," Eldacar told Helluin as they sat in his study on the evening of the 12th, "and 'tis my hope that at least the garrison of Cair Andros shalt arrive in time to reinforce us."

"Such may or may not come to pass, O King," Helluin replied, "for 'tis some fifteen leagues upon the river each way 'twixt Cair Andros and the city, yet word must reach them by horse, and then they must muster and finally march. T'will be a close thing, I wager, and perhaps better if they come hither by water than by land."

The king sat silent, calculating the distance and time. Afoot, t'would be a march of one and one-half days from the isle to the city.

"My lord, thou hast one measure as yet untaken, and I understand not thy reasoning, for by it much knowledge could'st thou gain," Helluin said. "Pray tell, why hath no use been made of thy _Palantír_? 'Neath thy Dome of Stars rests the master stone of Elendil's realm of old."

At her words the king blanched and he clasped his hands tightly together, anxiety writ plain upon his face.

"Not since the days of my grandsire Rómendacil hath any looked upon that stone," Eldacar said softly, "and though he gained of it a vision of his enemies in the east, still 'twas regarded even in his day as a thing perilous to gaze into, lest one be seen as well by the greater foe of our people. 'Tis said the last to use it with confidence was't Hyarmendacil and none so great hath ruled since."

_Incredible! Hither hath the Dúnedain a gift of old and a power close to hand, and they fear to use it! 'Tis the legacy of Alcarin and Narmacil and Calmacil, I wager…lesser kings of a greater forebear, a thing even they must hath recognized at heart. And now 'tis Vinitharya, raised in distant Rhovanion, who fears what in truth he know'th not. Yet 'tis his by right of birth, to hold and to use, for now, he is King of Gondor._

"My lord, I bid thee come with me to the Chamber of the _Palantír_ 'neath the Dome of Stars. Not since the days of Tarannon Falastur hath I seen the Osgiliath Stone, yet such stones I hath used aforetime. 'Tis but a tool, to be wielded by those who hath the strength and the right to use it. I deem thou hath both."

Ere the king could reply, a chamberlain rapped upon the door, and when he was't bidden to enter, announced that, "Prince Ornendil hast returned from hunting in Ithilien and attends thee."

Into the study strode a Man of five-score and seven years age who, like his father, appeared to Helluin's eye every bit a pure-blooded Dúnadan.

"Father, I returned as soon as word reached me," the prince said hastily. Then, seeing that his father was't not alone, came to a halt, adding, "thy pardon, m'lady," and offered a bow.

"I am glad to see thee safely returned, my son," Eldacar said, both relieved at his son's presence within the city and for the break from his conversation with Helluin. Then he introduced her, saying, "to our aid hath come Helluin Úlairdacil, of whom thou hast heard much lore."

Helluin had risen and returned the prince's bow, while'st the prince looked at her with much curiosity.

"'Tis my pleasure to greet thee and find thee safe, Prince Ornendil."

"_Mai omentane, Heldalúne Maica i móremenel Finwë i rimbo_**¹**" Ornendil said.** ¹****(**_**Mai**____**omentane,**____**Heldalúne Maica i móremenel Finwë**_ _**i rimbo, **_**Well met, Helluin Maeg-móremenel of the Host of Finwë** = _**Mai**_(well) + _**omenta-**_(meet _of two_) + _**-ne**_(imperf past suff)_** +Finwë**_ + _**i**_(def art, _the_) + _**rimbe**_(host) + _**-o**_(sing genitive suff, _of_) In Quenya, the genitive proceeds the noun it modifies except with proper names and titles where it follows. Quenya**)**

Helluin smiled, surprised to hear the prince greet her in Quenya, rather than the more commonly used Sindarin.

"Lore and language my son hath always loved," Eldacar said, "and even in his youth, upon each stay in Osgiliath, he engaged the learned and the wise and spent many hours in the libraries and achieves reading ancient accounts of Gondor's history, and the history of Númenor which came aforetime. One day he shalt be a wise king."

The pride and love in Eldacar's voice bespoke his esteem for his elder son, and perhaps too, Helluin thought, an esteem for knowledge which he himself had learnt in lesser measure.

"One day I hope to visit Imladris, and by the leave of the Lord Elrond Peredhel, learn such of the Elder Days as he or his folk might be willing to teach," Ornendil said.

"I believe the Lord Elrond would'st be glad to receive thee, O Prince, for he is the wisest in lore now in Middle Earth," Helluin said. "Perhaps in days of peace, thy hope shalt come true, and should there be the time, I too would'st be glad to offer thee whatsoever I can tell…of Númenor and Beleriand that were, and of Aman that shalt ever be."

"Then I shalt pray for the end of this war and for the blessings of peace."

"As do we all, my son."

For some moments the three reflected upon the current threat and the possibilities beyond, yet soon, Helluin broached again the topic that she and Eldacar had discussed ere the return of the prince.

"My lord, concerning that of which we spoke…"

"My son, 'tis Helluin's opinion that I should'st seek for knowledge of the enemy in the Seeing Stone," Eldacar said, to which the prince responded with obvious excitement.

"Father, the kings of old had great profit of the _Palantíri_, and their use is now thy right. I too would'st encourage thee, and what time better than with the aid of one from whose folk those stones were first gifted long ago?"

For some moments the king sat, weighing their arguments against his fear, yet in the end, their words and his own reluctance to be cowed won out and he gave his assent.

"Very well then. With the aid of one knowing the practice and the perils of such stones, I shalt chance its use. Come, let us go to the Chamber of the _Palantír_."

Accompanied by a detail of a dozen Guards of Osgiliath, the king, the prince, and the Noldo made their way hence to the Dome of Stars, and then, leaving the detail to guard the door, entered the Chamber of the _Palantír_. To Helluin's eyes, 'twas unchanged since her visit in the time of Berúthiel, save that the dust upon the floor lay somewhat thicker whither the few footprints of a century past had disturbed it not.

Upon a central pedestal stood the Seeing Stone, swaddled 'neath a coverlet of black velvet bearing an emblem of the White Tree. The three approached it, coming to stand in a circle about the pedestal, their passage sending up motes of dust that floated in the slanting rays of sunlight from the encircling row of high-placed clerestory windows.

Now as the king and the prince eyed her with expectant expressions, Helluin gingerly lifted and lowered to the floor the shroud, hoping by her care to raise a lessened cloud of dust. She marked her success by bringing only a single sneeze from the prince.

"I bid thee gaze deeply into the stone and concentrate upon whatsoever vision thou would'st see, O King," Helluin said. "Perhaps a vista of this city's royal precinct?"

King Eldacar leaned in towards the _palantír, _bringing his face to within inches of its surface and scrunching his brow, while'st glaring at the stone with jaw tight clenched, (the act of a pure neophyte, Helluin observed). His exertion was't rewarded with a swirl of light in the depths of the stone that circled its equator once ere it fizzled out.

Helluin exerted her will to maintain her comportment at the expression of mingled wonder, shock, and triumph upon the king's face when he looked up to her from the stone.

"My lord, the _palantír_ is thy tool and acts at thy service. Approach it as thou would'st a horse long familiar to thy hand, rather than as a foe to be bludgeoned," Helluin recommended with an admirably straight face. "Close proximity is not required, for with practice thou shalt be able to move the stone to action from anywhere simply by casting thy thought upon it. Thy presence is necessary simply for to see whatsoever it shows."

Now the king made several trials with increasing finesse and finally conjured an image of the city center as seen from the eye point of a bird winging o'erhead. He even managed to shift the vision such that for a short moment, a vista downriver appeared ere he lost control and the _palantír_ again went dark. Yet that success did much to bolster both his confidence and control, and on the next attempt he maintained the viewing for a full minute ere he stood away, closing his eyes and breathing deep to recover from the exertion of maintaining thus his focused will.

"My lord, I commend thy success this day," Helluin said, "and with time and practice thou shalt see such as thou command, and speak at whiles with thy subjects in Orthanc, Minas Anor, and Minas Ithil. Perhaps even shalt thou speak with thy brothers in the north kingdom, for Araphor of Arthedain hast now in his keeping at Fornost Erain the stones of Annúminas and Amon Sûl."

"Perhaps so, with time and practice," Eldacar said as he straightened from his respite, "yet for now, 'tis as a labor to me."

Now the prince had watched all in silence, but finally he added, "father, in this way hath thou proven by another token thy right to rule and the propriety of thy succession. When thou can'st do thus in greater comfort, t'would be a strong argument in thy favor against any doubting nobles."

Appreciating the acumen of the prince, Helluin nodded in agreement of his reasoning, yet ever practical, the king said, "upon some day to come I shalt heed thy counsel, my son, yet already war marches upon us and our desire for information still remains."

Then, turning to Helluin, he said, "of old was't this stone gifted to my forefathers by thy people. If thou hast knowledge of the use of such, Helluin, would'st thou seek for a vision of our enemy?"

'Twas exactly the request Helluin had hoped for.

"By thy leave, O King, I shalt be glad to espy the march of the traitor and his soldiery, and take the measure of our jeopardy," Helluin replied.

Then, 'neath the close scrutiny of the king and the prince, Helluin cast her will upon the stone. Familiar was't this _palantír _from her furtive encounter in the days of Berúthiel, and it responded with an immediate vision of the road leading south from Osgiliath. With increasing speed, Helluin commanded its viewpoint hence, traversing the breadth of Lossarnach and Lebennin in a stomach clenching lurch of some hundred miles. Thither she found the encampment of the rebels being set in the daylight's waning hour, with many tents pitched and many horses picketed upon both sides of the road o'er a distance of some two miles.

Now after a quick search to take the measure of the gathered forces, the Noldo marked the pennant flying from the center pole of one large tent, and to this tent she directed the vision, closer and closer, 'til it seemed they actually walked through the retracted flap and into the interior. In shock did King Eldacar view those gathered in council within. Thither sat Castamir, with his captains and allies, viewing their progress on a large map.

"M'lord, I present thy enemy," Helluin said as she held steady the vision.

"I feel as if I could'st reach out and take his head," Eldacar ground out.

And then she slowly centered their sight upon the map.

"Behold, the campaign for Osgiliath."

Again, Helluin held steady the vision, and the three committed what they saw to memory. _T'would seem a force hath been o'erlooked in our calculations aforetime,_ Helluin thought as she marked a notation on the map. Then she returned the stone's focus to Castamir, bringing them to see close, as though they stood at his side, and Helluin bent her thought hard upon him.

'Neath their scrutiny the traitor shifted his eyes as if he searched for something, and a sheen of sweat grew upon his face. Quicker and shallower came his breath, and finally he turned his head this way and that, as if he searched for 'aught that he could not see.

In the Chamber of the _Palantír _Helluin's eyes projected crackling blue fire as she intensified her assault, and marking this, the king and the prince gave her a questioning look. But she said 'naught, concentrating all her will upon the subject in the stone. Into his mind came a thought, and with that thought was't a presence abhorrent that pressed upon his skull and beat upon his spirit, and of that presence came a voice.

_To one of strong will who would do my bidding shalt I give a Ring in token of my favor, asking only for thy service 'til thy time upon this earth is through. Great power I can bestow and many gifts, even as of old. What say thou, yea or nay?_

In the tent one hundred miles south of Osgiliath, Castamir clamped his hands o'er his ears, shrieked in terror, and fell to his knees. Immediately, Helluin ceased her assault.

Turning to the king and the prince, Helluin said, "I hath offered Castamir a choice to make in spirit, and perhaps with the realization of whose bidding he doth truly do, he shalt turn back. In his head he hath heard a voice offering him a Ring in trade for his service. 'Twas such an offer as was't once made to Tindomul and eight others long ago, yet now there art no Rings to bestow, for those art already held…by the _Úlairi_." After a pause, she added, "By thy leave, I shalt assail him thus at each evening's camp."

Awe and horror showed upon the faces of King Eldacar and Prince Ornendil. Helluin had used the Seeing Stone not only to view, but to attack, and she had impersonated none other than Sauron Gorthaur to do so…convincingly, judging by the reaction of the traitor. And now, finally, some inkling of the fear behind the darker rumors of the _palantíri_ rang true for them. Eventually they would'st come to understand the dread that had haunted Isildur long ago, the terror of his people, and the absolute necessity of never allowing such a stone to come to the hand of their greater enemy in the east.

Now following her assault upon Castamir, Helluin turned to examine 'aught that she had gleaned from the map. From the South Road to Anduin she moved their sight, and higher, so that soon they looked down upon the further bank, and they passed Pelargir and saw the ships of Umbar birthed at the quays. Thence downstream she continued, passing the mouth of the River Poros and Ethir Anduin, following the coast of Harondor, southwards to the city of their enemy, the great fortress and haven of Umbar at the head of its sheltering bay. Very strong indeed had that fastness become in the years of Hyarmendacil's war, and yet more had been built since. And they saw that many ships still lay at anchor in the harbor, while'st about the walls of the city stood pitched the tents of many troops.

"A strong force awaits some command," Helluin reported to the king, "and in this I see Castamir's confidence, for he deems sufficient such strength as he hast already brought, to win thy city and claim thy realm."

Beside her, Eldacar gritted his teeth and clenched tight his fists.

From Umbar, Helluin directed their view inland and northward to the road coming out of the Haradwaith. This she followed as it crossed the River Harnen and wound through Harondor, and then, spying a settling haze of dust in the distance ahead, decreased their altitude so as to come upon an encampment some fifty leagues south of the River Poros. This she circled once for to gage its size.

"'Tis a force in size alike to that already upon the road from Pelargir," she said, while'st commanding their eye point to float amongst a group of finer tents at the center.

"Thither fly the pennants of many noble houses of Umbar," hissed the king, "traitors all. May they rot in Udún."

From the encampment, Helluin directed the _palantír_ north upon the road, through Harondor to its ford upon the River Poros, which ran shallow 'twixt raised banks and thence into South Ithilien with the jagged peaks of the Ephel Dúath marching ever closer upon their right, continuing past the Emyn Arnen and the crossroads to Osgiliath and Isildur's Tower of the Moon, and finding the lands thither clean of enemies. On she continued, as the road traversed the fair lands of Ithilien until it finally turned east, passing thence the Noman-lands and slag mounds and skirting Dagorlad ere it found its end at the ruins of the Black Gate of Mordor. Thither, beyond the broken ground and tumbled blocks of the fallen Morannon, lay a broad circular valley, its sheer encircling slopes a forbidding wall, black and glassy…the accused ring-dike of Udún. Eldacar and Ornendil shuddered at the sight of it.

"A dozen days march at least ere the enemy in Harondor reaches Osgiliath, m'lords," Helluin reported. _That being 24 Nórui or thereabouts. I hath still one other need to view._

In the _palantír _the vision lurched, sickening in its acceleration as the landscape jerked into a blur of motion. The king and the prince looked away, the latter with a groan. West Helluin commanded the Seeing Stone, 'cross Anduin to the road 'nigh Minas Anor, and thence south to the crossing of Erui and beyond, the viewpoint swinging side to side for some minutes, searching the darkening land, and thither at last she espied two upon horseback, riding southwest in haste. These she followed a moment, marking their direction and discerning their destination.

_So, some errand calls thee to Linhir, beloved. 'Tis well that thou art riding away from the fighting and towards the stronghold of our allies. Still I worry for thee, but now at last I can rest with a bit more ease, knowing thou art safe._

"'Tis that…?"

"Aye, O King," Helluin said. "Beinvír rides to Linhir in the company of a Ranger."

Another swift move and at Linhir they watched many Rangers, cloaked and hooded, bearing bow, sword, and dagger, mustering in haste. Upon roads leading east to Anduin they saw companies already riding to war.

"Lebennin comes, O King, faithful allies to thy service."

And finally Helluin stepped back a pace and freed the _palantír_ of her control. At once it went dark. With all they had seen for distraction, 'twas long ere the king or the prince marked that she had retained command of the stone for 'nigh on a half-hour unbroken, showing neither stress nor weariness afterwards.

Now King Eldacar resolved to learn the mastery of the Seeing Stones, for their powers had been demonstrated to him clearly, yet knowing t'would be long ere he gained such expertise, he told Helluin, "my leave thou hast to use the _palantíri _of the South Kingdom henceforth, and I pray thee continue thy assault upon the traitor. Drive him and break him if thou can'st…o'erthrow his mind if needs be, for rather would'st I face a gibbering madman than one crafty and wise who holds such advantage in numbers upon the field."

Helluin nodded in assent to the king's desire for it ran with her own, and she offered him a small grin of anticipation that chilled his blood.

**To Be Continued**


	120. In An Age Before Chapter 120

**Chapter 120**

**Chapter Seventy-six**

_**Harondor and South Ithilien – The Third Age of the Sun**_

Now as the night of 14 Nórui passed, the three staysail schooners of Linhir rounded the headland on the southern shore of the bay, and for a brief time tacked southeast ere the sailors drove their ships north into Ethir Anduin. Sea crafty were these Men who had long won their livelihood from the waters of Belegaer, and though 'twas not the blood of Númenor that flowed in their veins, their forefathers had plied the waves off Belfalas for two Ages of the world and they knew these waters well. So though their craft were far smaller than the great ships of _Atalantë_, with fair winds they were no less swift at need, and twenty-four knots they made. Better still, their four triangular sails required a crew of only twelve seamen, plus a captain and first mate, so that with the Rangers aboard, each vessel carried three dozen souls.

From the third hour past midnight the ships moved upriver, thankful that a fair wind from the sea and summer's lowered outflow on Anduin allowed them to approach a speed of nine knots. After some sixteen leagues they left the delta and found the main channel of the great river, the current slowing thence their progress to 'nigh seven knots. Thus they continued as daylight broke, and for the next nine hours sailed upriver, so that in the seventh hour past noon upon 15 Nórui they reached the mouth of the River Poros.

"I pray thee sail so far upstream as thy good ship can'st go," Beinvír requested of the captain of the ship she rode in.

"If 'twas thy fancy, First Guardian, I wager my sailors would'st carry this craft 'cross the desert of Harad on their backs," the captain replied with a chuckle, "and doth thou not hath half thy bowmen also bearing axes, as doth woodsmen or Dwarves?" Then he sobered, adding, "in truth, I hath not sailed the Poros in any season, and so I know not for sure how far upstream we can'st sail. The mate shalt take the soundings and we shalt go so far as possible, this I promise."

The Green Elf graced him with a fond smile, for during the past hours she had come to esteem the watermen of Linhir. Like their counterparts from Númenor long years afore, they respected the sea and loved their ships, and were, by their efforts, the masters of both. _And who is to say the same spirit lives not in these sailors, for like the Dúnedain of old, was't not the root of their sea craft taught at first by Cirdan and the Sindar out of Balar? Surely 'tis so, for in the Dark Years the Kings of Men came amongst them with many gifts of knowledge._

Now through the eve and into the night of the 15th the ships of Linhir made their cautious way up the River Poros, and though prudence dictated that such a passage be made in the light of day, the Green Elf's need of haste and the talents of the crews let them make headway at a steady six knots. Through the dark and into the dawn they continued until, in the third hour past dawn on 16 Nórui, they came to a narrowing whither the Poros made its way henceforth 'twixt rising banks that left but a narrow strand with a path along the northern side. Though its breadth was't but a fraction of Anduin's, Beinvír was't reminded of the great river's passage 'twixt the cliffs of the Emyn Muil north of Nen Hithoel. Still the depth remained sufficient to allow the schooners' passage, though now the captain paced the deck and called for almost constant soundings.

"Keep to the channel center," he ordered the helm as the banks grew into cliffs and the danger of submerged boulders calved from the walls increased with each passing mile.

Through the hours of daylight they continued, until 'nigh sundown they were forced to a halt, and thither, a full one-hundred and thirty miles above its mouth, they could'st see the ford of the Harad Road, and beyond, the narrow slot canyon through which the river passed the hilly forested land of South Ithilien to its headwaters in the distant shadow of the Ephel Dúath upon the borders of Mordor. 'Twas ominous enough, yet to the Green Elf's keen sight, more ominous still was't the fading cloud of dust to the south that spoke of the march of many feet. _Red dust in the reddened light of Anor's farewell._

"Good speed thou hath made, Captain, and very great is my thanks," Beinvír said, "but now I bid thee make thy way home with all haste. Late upon the morrow, or at most upon the day after, the Poros shalt not be safe for thy good vessels."

Then, though the dark of night was't swiftly falling, she bid the Rangers debark and the ships sail, awaiting not the light of day. Six at a time in the schooners' small dinghy's, the Rangers were rowed to the path 'neath the cliff upon the northern side. Once ashore, Beinvír spoke urgently with the lieutenant and the sergeants, and the company set out upriver to the ford in haste.

'Twas through cuttings in the cliff banks upon both sides of the Poros that the road ran down to the ford, and this was't in summer a swath of marl and gravel some ten fathoms wide, 'neath shallow sparkling water of knee depth. The cliffs embanking the Poros stood to a height of eight fathoms, rising still higher upriver, and the cutting and grading to make the ford passable even by great wains had first been made by the martial engineers of Gondor in the days of Tarannon Falastur, but much improved by King Eärnil for the passage of his arms to the siege of Umbar. The final refinement of the ford was't done in the days of Ciryaher, when cunning bypasses with sluice gates and conduits were made to assure the constant level of the waters o'er the ford. So passed the army of Gondor, eighty thousands, marching to meet the fifty thousands coming by ship, to the conquest of Umbar and Harad 'neath the command of Hyarmendacil in T.A. 1050.

Now while'st the Green Elf and the Rangers sailed from Linhir, in Osgiliath the preparations for war continued in the heat and humidity of the summer days upon Anduin, and most longed for the succor of the king's summer residence in the Tower of the Sun, with the cool heights of Mindolluin at their backs. Yet in this year of strife, such a respite was't not to be.

Even as Helluin, Eldacar and Ornendil gazed into the _Palantír _of Osgiliath on the eve of the 12th, the cavalry of Gondor had encamped upon the road south of Minas Anor, and thither, with much aid from Dúnedain of the tower and the Men of Lossarnach living 'nigh, began the construction of barricades and trenches extending both east and west from the road. This work continued through the following days, even until the sighting of the enemy drawing 'nigh.

During those days the number of the defenders was't swelled by armed reservists from the greater households of Lossarnach, hunters from Osgiliath, Minas Anor, and the Pellenor, and a growing cadre of Rangers. Indeed these arrived, both ahorse and afoot, in such numbers as to amaze the Dúnedain. By 15 Nórui a standing army had gathered numbering almost three and one-half thousands, and word was't sent to the king.

Upon the eve of the 15th, a messenger came to King Eldacar's study in the eighth hour past noon. Thither he was't heard by the king, the prince, Captain-General Borgil, and Helluin.

"My lord Eldacar, I bring thee word from the captains upon the road. With much aid from the Men of the surrounding lands we hath built defenses stretching two furlongs to each side of the road and sufficient to halt the cavalry of Castamir. Many hath come to our aid, bringing the count mounted to 'nigh two thousand and those afoot to o'er one and one-half thousands. M'lord, many of these art Rangers of Lebennin, and these also report the progress of Castamir's troops delayed with loss such that best reckoning now puts their arrival at our defenses no sooner than the mid-morning of 17 Nórui, perhaps later. Every mile they advance they must contest with hidden archers, and yet more, 'tis reported that Castamir himself holds them back through indecision…he wavers when his cause would'st be best served by haste, m'lord."

At this, broad smiles spread upon the faces of King Eldacar and Captain-General Borgil, a chuckle escaped Prince Ornendil, and the hint of a grin shaped the lips of Helluin.

"My lord, thy kinsmen Anræd and Hæleþ beseech thee to ride out to meet the enemy upon the road and reinforce thy cavalry with a full complement of infantry, for with so many horsed, rather would'st they meet the foe upon a field of battle than defend a city besieged."

For some moments the king made no answer. Other news had come to him only shortly afore. The fifteen hundred troops from Cair Andros would'st reach Osgiliath the coming morn. Yet more, on each evening since the 12th, Helluin had assailed Castamir through the Seeing Stone, and now his judgment was't indeed impaired. He himself had watched as his enemy had grown more distrustful of those around him, more easily frustrated by the harrying of the Rangers, and the quicker to rashness in his commands. Now Castamir failed to break camp and march with the sun, waiting until the third hour ere striking his tents. He ordered sorties off the road, many of which returned not, or with reduced company. He spent much energy and time burning the surrounding lands, hounding any folk his troops met, arguing with his captains, dispensing the martial discipline of floggings for even slight infractions, and staring blindly at his maps. He slept now but little, for fell voices and dreams of ill-omen haunted him. Oft times he skipped the officer's mess, eating sparingly and alone in his tent where he muttered to himself and cursed his servants. His captains had taken to whispering about him, for with each passing day, his condition seemed the worse. At all these things the king had smiled.

More than this, Helluin had shown him the march of Castamir's reinforcements in Harondor and the passage of three small ships out of Linhir, and how, but an hour earlier, those ships had made the mouth of the River Poros and turned upstream.

"Captain-General Borgil, summon the cavalry of Minas Ithil hither with greatest haste to join the defense upon the road. The garrison of Cair Andros shalt join us thither as well," the king ordered. Then, turning back to the messenger, said, "Tell my kinsmen that Osgiliath shalt follow their counsel. We shalt engage the enemy upon the road, for now we can'st meet them with 'nigh eight thousands, and each day we hold them thither, more shalt arrive from Lebennin and Anórien."

So the order was't passed, and Osgiliath was't emptied of troops, and Minas Anor as well, all joining those already posted upon the road. The cavalry of Minas Ithil came in just ere dawn upon the 17th, and from the south, another two hundred Rangers. Then Anor rose above the heights of the Ephel Dúath, coloring the clouds above with a ruddy light, and in short order King Eldacar and Prince Ornendil, Anræd and Hæleþ with all their knights and captains were arrayed, ready for war. Behind them stood almost six thousand soldiers and knights of Gondor's Northern Army, the garrison of Cair Andros, the city guards of Minas Anor and Osgiliath, the cavalry of Minas Ithil, and one and one-half thousand Rangers of Lebennin. With them were another seven hundreds of reservists, irregulars, hunters, and retainers of the loyal houses of Lossarnach and the Pellenor…o'er eight thousand defenders.

In a tent somewhat back from the front, Helluin was't seated at a table. Before her on a ring-stand sat the _Palantír_ of Minas Anor, smaller and more portable than the Osgiliath Stone. She had conjured a vision of Castamir lying upon his cot with teeth and fists clenched tight. Again had he endured a sleepless night in which a fell voice cajoled him with its offer of favor and the foresight of loss should'st he refuse. Yet now he was't well 'nigh certain of whose voice it was't that had taken up residence in his counsels, and so he resisted, to his increasing torment.

_No son of kings shalt ever again follow thy will, Abhorrent One, for to welcome thee is to invite damnation,_ Castamir whispered as the pressure within his skull increased a pace, bringing a throbbing as of Dwarf hammers ringing upon his pate.

_Thy greatest king welcomed me! Think thyself a better than Ar-Pharazôn? Thou seek but the rule of a fragment of a poor realm of exiles, little dreamer, while'st with my aid, the Golden King of Númenor well 'nigh took Aman. Without my favor thou hath no future. Squander my offer and 'tis only a death at thy rival's hand that awaits thee. This I hath shown thee, and in seeing, thou hath already accepted the first of my gifts!_

Clutching both hands tight o'er his ears, Castamir screamed and jerked upright. To his feet he staggered 'neath the pounding of the blood in his veins, and he wrenched aside the flap of his tent. All round stood a company of captains and lords and soldiers, frozen in shock as they stared at him ere they looked away in embarrassment and fear.

Adding a sharp dagger of pain that drove him to his knees in the dirt with a strangled cry, Helluin withdrew and the _palantír_ went dark. After drawing the swath of velvet o'er it, she exited the tent and nodded to its guards. Then she made her way to the king.

"I can'st now confirm that t'will be some hours ere Castamir resumes his march, O King," she told Eldacar. "'Twixt the distance, his delay, and the hounding of the Rangers, t'will be mid-afternoon ere we see battle."

At a questioning glance from the king, she added, "he hast had another sleepless night, rising only moments ago to torment and pain."

"And what of movements in Harondor?" the King asked.

"The Ford of Poros is now held against the enemy, O King, and their passage shalt be dear bought and not for some days, if indeed they win passage upon the road at all. Mayhaps they shalt be forced off it, to find some other crossing either upstream or down. Even then their march shalt be harried as hast been the march of Castamir. I should say that Minas Ithil hast at the least another fortnight's grace."

Glad was't the king to hear Helluin's tidings, and glad too for the respite of time, and so he released the knights and soldiers from the formation until after the noon meal, posting in their stead sentries and watchmen and scouts. Then, like his knights, he did off his armor and breathed a sigh of relief to be free of the weight of it, for though 'twas only just past dawn, it had left him feeling half-cooked in the growing summer heat. So while'st the scouts watched for the approach of Castamir's cavalry, the warriors of Gondor spent another five hours ere the noon meal, and two more after it, in the betterment of their fortifications, and when finally a pair of scouts returned at a gallop to report the enemy advancing at a walking pace three leagues to the south, they took up again their arms and donned their armor and all was't put in readiness for battle.

Now through the hours of darkness 'twixt 16 Nórui and 17 Nórui, Beinvír and her company of Rangers scouted the ford and the road for two leagues to the south, and the River Poros for a like distance upstream. With the dawn of the 17th they took counsel and decided their course.

"The ford we must make impassable," Beinvír told them, "and both casualties and delay must we cause our enemies in the greatest measure possible."

"Yet we can'st not hold back indefinitely such a force as thou expect," _Brógthínen_**¹ **the Lieutenant of the Rangers said, "and a way of escape must be decided ere we engage the enemy in battle." ** ¹****(**_**Brógthínen**_**, Silent Bear**_** = bróg**_(bear) + _**dínen**_(silent) At the partition of Sindarin names,_ -d _is changed to _-th_. Sindarin**)**

"To this I hath already given thought," the Green Elf said, "for even should'st the enemy win the ford, a long ways they hath ere they come to the battle in Osgiliath. There shalt be no escape for us by water, nor an end to our toil in this land. Once we hath visited such hardship hither as we can'st contrive, 'tis upstream upon the northern bank that we shalt withdraw. Thither, I deem, the enemy shalt be unlikely to pursue us, for they hath already both a goal and a direction, and I deem 'tis their march that they shalt resume at the first opportunity."

"I agree," Brógthínen said, "for they art ordered to battle in the north."

"And once they pass?" Sergeant _Langeleg_**¹** asked. "Surely we can'st not let them go?"** ¹**(_**Langeleg**_**, Swift Sword** = _**lang**_(sword) + _**celeg**_(swift) At the partition of Sindarin names, the _–c_ is changed to _–g_ but is dropped rather than doubled in this case. Sindarin**)**

"Nay, we shalt not let them go. Each mile they march they shalt be forced to win with loss," Beinvír assured him. "We shalt do as thy brothers in Lebennin hath done and continue to do, for 'twixt Poros and Harnen, the lands of Harondor were won by Falastur, but north of Poros is Ithilien, and that hast been a part of Gondor since its founding. And so, as in the great war, thou shalt deny the enemy the passage of his arms upon the king's roads, for though we number but three score and five, as in an Age before, we art now Rangers of Ithilien."

"And as of old we hath again thy leadership, Cónhal Beinvír," Sergeant _Gilhuor_**¹** said, "and indeed even the same mission. Doth not the saying go that oft art deeds repeated in the Song?"** ¹****(**_**Gilhuor, **_**Star of Courage = **_**gil**_(star) + _**huor**_(courage) Sindarin**)**

"Aye, 'tis so indeed," the Green Elf replied.

"How then shalt we cause our enemy the greatest discomfort?" Sergeant _Celebthá_**¹ **asked.** ¹****(**_**Celebthá, **_**Silver Shadow = **_**celeb**_(silver) + _**dae**_(shadow) At the partition of Sindarin names, the _–d_ is changed to _–th _and the diphthong_ –ae_ changes to _–á_. Sindarin**)**

"Great thanks we should'st give to both Yavanna and Ulmo for the nature of these lands," Beinvír told the Rangers, "for hither we hath both running water and trees upon the banks. Still, we hath much to do and but a day in which to accomplish it. A furlong downstream, one company shalt fell such trees as needed to dam the river's flow. A second company shalt do likewise upriver, save that the dam be rigged to fail on command. Hither the third company shalt plug the conduits and remove the gates from the sluices. The southern cutting we shalt block partly with branches and such deadfall as we can'st find. 'Tis within easy bowshot from the northern banks, and at need we can'st fire the wood set in the cutting."

With a grim chuckle, Lieutenant Brógthínen assigned the duties.

"Sergeant Langeleg, take thy company downstream. Sergeant Celebthá, thou hath the duty upstream. Sergeant Gilhuor, remain hither and prepare the ford and yonder cutting…the cutting first."

With nods of acknowledgment, the three sergeants gathered their companies and set out to their stations in silence. Soon the ringing of axes, the fall of trees, and the splash of trunks hitting the water could'st be heard in the canyon of the Poros, while'st in the south cutting, a growing collection of deadfall and tinder grew into a well-laid bonfire awaiting a flaming arrow. By the noon hour, the labor of King Ciryaher's engineers had been undone, depriving control of the water level to the invaders. Unhinged, the sluice gates lay now at the bottom of the upstream channel, while'st the conduits had been plugged with branches and rubble. O'er the ford the velocity of the water immediately increased, and erosion by its scouring set in. By mid-afternoon the depth of water had begun rising, and the last few of the company working in the south cutting waded the ford waist-deep upon their return

The trickiest part of the plan was't the work upstream, but in the late afternoon and early evening, the companies from downstream and the south cutting had joined those already working upstream, and with their aid, a very crude and leaky, but breakable dam was't in place at the first hour after nightfall. Then the companies retired to the north cutting to set their camp, and 'twas a very tired group of Rangers who finally took some food and rest upon the night of the 17th.

Just ere dusk, Beinvír had ascended the bole of a tulip tree, and from a height of some twelve fathoms, marked the dust of the approaching enemy, rising as they set their camp. _I make them three leagues to the south still, and so they shalt reach the ford at the fourth hour past dawn upon the morrow. That is good, for the Rangers art weary from their toil and a night's rest shalt be a balm to them ere the battle._

"Sleep well this night, for thy labors hath wrought an obstacle the enemy shalt find difficult to pass even were it not also defended. I believe that they shalt come two hours ere noon upon the morrow, yet tonight thou can'st take thy rest in ease," the Green Elf told the Men at their supper.

About her the Rangers were too weary to cheer, but sincere smiles and nods of thanks came from many, and all felt a sense of pride in their accomplishments of that day, whatever should come after. Too, many felt a kinship with their ancestors who had fought in these same lands 'neath the command of this same Elf, and perhaps even against the ancestors of this same foe, at the end of the Second Age so long ago. And no few reflected upon the words of Sergeant Gilhuor that past dawn, _Doth not the saying go that oft art deeds repeated in the Song?_, and the Green Elf's reply, _Aye, 'tis so indeed_. And with such a confirmation from one of such age and renown, they came to believe…they believed that, though they numbered but three score and five, they could'st cause the enemy such hardship and delay that by their actions, they would'st affect the coming siege of their king's city.

**To Be Continued**


	121. In An Age Before Chapter 121

**Chapter 121**

Now at the third hour past noon, when the first of Castamir's cavalry came in sight of the barricade, they were met with a hail of arrows that drove them back. They easily marked that this was't more than just the constant harrying of the Rangers, for they had caught a glimpse of an army massed against them, arrayed before the barricade. Thither waited mounted knights numbering perhaps a third of their own count, and behind them, the bristling spears of a great valor of foot soldiers of Gondor's northern army. T'would be their first true battle, and so they sent word to the Lord Castamir.

"Thought thou truly that Eldacar would'st allow us to march right up to the walls of Osgiliath? Ha! 'Tis little surprise to find a defense upon the road," Castamir told his captains. "So thou shalt fight a battle. Imagine that! 'Tis why thou art hither, if thou had not suspected such aforetime. Now hold the cavalry beyond bowshot 'til the infantry can'st join them ere thou bother me again!"

'Neath their lord's derision the captains bowed and took their leave to carry out his orders. Yet no few had come to resent Castamir's demeanor, for they were all proud Men of pure blood. A few amongst them wondered how his rule would'st proceed once he took the throne, and a very few wondered if perhaps choosing him had been a mistake. In spite of how they felt, the captains saw that Castamir's bidding was't carried out.

So for another hour the cavalry awaited the arrival of the infantry o'er a furlong back from the barricade, and during that hour, from time to time one amongst them would'st fall from his mount, shot in the face with an arrow. 'Twas the continuation of a scourge that had afflicted their forces since their landing at Pelargir upon the 10th, and in the ensuing week they had added to their contempt for the Men of Twilight, a seething hatred borne of their foe's cowardly manner of war. Many a friend and comrade-in-arms had fallen to the archers who n'er showed themselves plain, nor stood to battle man to man. And so they resolved that when this realm had come 'neath the hand of their lord, these lesser Men should suffer for so long as their own rule lasted. Like the pretender king of mixed blood now squatting in Osgiliath, they were unworthy of the respect and esteem of a pure-blooded Man of the West.

'Twas just o'er an hour ere Castamir's infantry had massed upon the road, and the order came for them to advance in a frontal assault upon the barricade, thither to o'erwhelm and sweep aside the defenders, and in their wake, clear such obstacles as hampered the advance of their lord's cavalry. So they came on, charging forward with shields held before them in hopes of staving off the near constant barrage of arrows. Yet almost immediately some discerned that those arrows came not only from the fore, but from their flanks as well. No few fell, but many more continued on unscathed.

Still they came on, and when they had covered half the distance 'twixt their own cavalry and the barricade, a single note from trumpets rent the air, and into the land to either side of the road behind them fell a volley of flaming arrows. Quickly did the summer-dried grass and underbrush catch, (both that which grew naturally and that which had been collected thither and doused with oil), and the resulting smoke and flames soon set their own cavalrymen to coughing and blinking, and their horses to prancing and snorting and milling. 'Twas now just after the fourth hour past noon, and the day's heated air flowing off the land drove the smoke south down the road towards the sea.

Yet still they came on, and very nearly had they reached the barricade as the fire caught and spread behind them, when a second note from trumpets was't blown. 'Twas then that they heard the thunder of hooves, yet so intent were they on engaging their enemy, now only scant yards ahead, that few at first realized the charging cavalry was't not their own.

During their hour's wait, the Rangers of Lebennin had kept the invading cavalry hemmed in, formed up in their companies upon the road beyond bowshot of the barricade, and so Castamir's forces marked not that well 'nigh all of Eldacar's cavalry had dispersed into two companies. These had withdrawn behind their own infantry, through the gate and behind the barricade, riding thence both east and west down its length, and thither, a furlong to either side of the road, had turned south and awaited the trumpet's signal.

Now when that signal came, both companies spurred their mounts to charge. Down through an orchard from the west came the cavalry of Osgiliath, but before them rode the Northmen, with Anræd and Hæleþ in the lead. Up through tall grass from the river-side came the cavalries of Minas Ithil and Minas Anor with Prince Ornendil at their head, to slam into the flanks of the leading and middle companies of Castamir's infantry. And because those infantry companies were charging down a road, their long files and narrow ranks offered only minimal resistance to the inertia of half ton war horses at full gallop. Barely had those knights time enough to slash with their swords at the footmen below them ere they passed clear through their files as they mowed down all in their path.

Yet the very arrangement of their foes that gave them such success also limited that success, and in the narrow lands flanking the road, they had not the space to turn and regain their momentum for a second charge, and so the cavalry rode on, clearing the battle zone and returning to the barricade, their companies having now exchanged positions east and west.

In their wake the enemy hesitated, stunned by the unexpected suddenness and violence of the onslaught. In but a few seconds o'er three hundreds of their comrades had been ridden down, and these now lay broken, ever stilled or writhing in pain, at the front of their formation, and all those spared expected the cavalry's return at any moment.

But Eldacar's cavalry had orders to stand fast, save at the call of another trumpet signal, and so they remained in their flanking positions, guarding the barricade, for 'twas now the turn of others to join the battle. So as Castamir's infantry recovered from the onslaught of the cavalry charge and turned again to assail the barricade, the infantries of Osgiliath and Minas Anor and Cair Andros, with the Rangers of Lebennin and all those other fighters loyal to the king, charged down the road to meet their foes.

Now the lines clashed and the sounds of spear and sword beating against shield filled the air. To the fore had marched the soldiers of Gondor's Northern Army, bearing spear, sword, and shield to match their foes from Umbar. Behind them and upon the flanks came the Rangers, bearing no shields, but firing their bows into the flanks of the enemy column until the battle line spread off the paved road. Then many moved to maintain firing distance while'st others drew their swords and closed with the enemy at last.

Again the enemy's formation favored the defenders, for despite their superior numbers, the narrow battle front centered on the road could'st be successfully opposed by fewer Men. Such of Castamir's infantry that ventured off the road became the targets of intensive fire from the Rangers, and so the battle continued with the front lines thus constrained. Yet soon, at the center of those lines, a southward wedge appeared, centered upon a flare of Light, for thither fought the king with his deadly personal guard, and at his side, Helluin of the Noldor. These no enemy could'st withstand, for Eldacar, Vinitharya of Rhovanion, had been trained by the best sword masters of Gondor, and the courage of the Northmen and of the Dúnedain burned hot in his veins. Thither he and his guard were surrounded by Helluin's incandescence, and blue flames crackled from her eyes as she let the rage of battle flare within her, for she had resolved that no weapon would'st touch the king, distant son of her own blood and scion of the House of Huor.

Through the hours of the late afternoon and into the evening the battle raged, and both sides suffered loss ere night fell and the horns of Umbar called back Castamir's infantry. No resolution was't reached that day, and though during the night yet more of the enemy lost their lives to the arrows of the Rangers, come the morn battle would'st be joined again. And while'st Castamir's forces lost numbers at a steady pace, o'er the following weeks the forces of Eldacar grew as reinforcements did indeed come from the northern and the southern fiefs. The barricade held and the assault grew protracted. The invasion proceeded neither quickly nor decisively as Castamir and his allies from Umbar had hoped, and t'would be long ere they came to assail the walls of Osgiliath.

In their camp the frustration of Castamir grew with each day of the stalemate, and in the nights the assaults he'd long accepted as Sauron's continued. Ever was't his course challenged, his setbacks paraded before his eyes with derision, and the progress of his campaign scorned. _What proof more would thou hath, little captain? Better thou had stayed aboard ship, for by land, thou art surely no general. Better still should thou hath remained in Umbar and taken up its rule as my regent. _ Cruel visions tormented him, in which Eldacar appeared ever the more kingly and beloved, while'st about him, his captains and soldiers whispered and shunned his presence so much as was't possible. And he grew suspicious of them in turn and increasingly kept his own counsel, issuing orders and dispensing punishment as he alone saw fit, estranging himself all the further from his soldiers and his allies.

During that time also, many continued their labors on the defense, and ere it fell at last, there grew a wall of stone to replace the hastily built wooden barricade, for at that time, the first segment of the Pellenor Wall was't founded. In days to come, many times would'st that fortification be strengthened, repaired, and amended ere the time of the Lord Steward Denethor II and the return of the king.

Now to the tired Rangers of Ithilien at the Ford of the Poros, the dawn of 18 Nórui came too early it seemed, and they rose to a fine sunrise o'ershadowed with the foreboding of battle. Already the Green Elf was't seated high in the tulip tree, watching for the rise of dust that would'st announce the march of the invaders from Umbar. Alone and silent, she mourned the cutting of so many trees the day past, yet need had demanded their sacrifice and none of her reservations had she expressed, nor allowed her sorrow to show to the Men 'neath her command. _Lady Kementári, thy forgiveness I beg, for on my orders great hurt hast been done to thy olvar, and though done for good purpose and with regret, 'twas done all the same. Hold not to blame those who wielded their axes, but instead myself only who gave the order. No fitting restitution can I make, for those destroyed came into Arda of thy hand and thou alone hast such power. Alas! Today there shalt be battle, yet the first art already fallen and their fall is not unmourned._

Far away in the Uttermost West her prayer was't heard, as such words hath ever been heard when true-spoken from the heart.

Below her the sounds of Men waking and moving prompted her to wipe away her tears and prepare herself to face her troops. Then the branch upon which she sat, whole and sound aforetime, suddenly cracked and gave way, and the Green Elf fell a full twenty fathoms into the Poros. She came up sputtering and flailing, much as Helluin had when the Eagle dropped her into Anduin 'nigh Osgiliath. Yet despite the height of her fall, her landing had been amply cushioned by the deepened waters just downstream from the ford and she took no hurt save her surprise. And while'st the first-risen Rangers hastened in alarm to her aid, she finally let a smile shape her lips, for in her fall she marked both the reception of her thoughts and the mercy of the Valier.

Beinvír came from the Poros dripping wet, yet as the morning drew on the temperature rose with a southerly wind that brought the dry heat of Harad to Ithilien. Thankful that her travel bag had been on the ground below, she changed into dry clothes and then addressed her troops at their morning mess.

"Ere my bath I saw 'naught of dust rising to the south," she told them with a wry grin, "and so not yet hath the foe broken camp. Yet if habit holds, then soon shalt they do so, and I make their arrival hither to come 'nigh four hours hence. Therefore, unless 'tis reported otherwise, in three hours we shalt remove all trace of our presence hither and deploy with half-companies as was't assigned upstream and downstream yesterday. The remaining two companies shalt meet the first approach of the enemy hither"

Yet even as she finished speaking, a scout of the first watch came and whispered to her.

"Cónhal Beinvír, two hath been espied north of the ford, in the upland woods east of the road. They look to be Dúnedain, yet not soldiers, for they wear common clothes. Local hunters I deem them, for they bear bows and they move not as ones stalking prey or foes, but rather as if seeking spoor."

"Halt them and ask their business, and if 'tis as thou suspect and they art hunters only, then warn them of a battle pending and send them home for their safety."

"Aye, and their purpose, if 'tis other?"

"Then bring them hence."

Some twenty minutes later three Rangers returned with the two Dúnedain walking before them. Yet these had been neither disarmed nor shackled. Beinvír marked that they indeed bore bows, and knives upon their belts, but not swords. Their surprise to see the Ranger encampment and the condition of the ford was't plainly writ upon their faces.

"Wh…what goes forth…?" one asked in confusion.

"Art thou an Elf?" asked the other.

"Hail and well met, hunters of Ithilien," Beinvír said in greeting. "Thy day's hunt shalt prove fruitless, I fear, for shortly a battle shalt be fought hither, and perhaps for many days the ford shalt be contested. Thereafter these lands too may be contested, for an army comes north from Umbar to assail Osgiliath, and I would'st not that thee or thy folk be caught in such a pass. If thou hail from a town 'nigh the road, I bid thee go and warn thy folk for their safety."

For some moments the two Men stood silent in shock, digesting her words, still casting glances about them as if to confirm the state in which they had found themselves.

"They seek to assail the king…and take Osgiliath?"

"There hast been some talk aforetime…yet I think not that any believed t'would come to this…but I would'st know…" he trailed off, still looking about.

"Good hunters, such rumors hath proved true, for even now King Eldacar may be defending his city against armies from Umbar 'neath the command of Captain-Admiral Castamir. These act on behalf of the nobles who oppose the Lord Eldacar's succession of his father, King Valacar, and they would'st unseat him. Therefore, whether thou support King Eldacar or not, I bid thee hence and not to return ere this land is clean of the invaders."

"Whether we support the king or not?" the second hunter asked with an edge of ire. "My family hath dwelt in South Ithilien through all this Age and fought for Falastur and Eärnil, Ciryandil and Hyarmendacil. Rómendacil was't a great king, and my father and grandfather esteemed his son, King Valacar too. For my part, I support King Eldacar and I would'st bear arms against his foes in these lands…especially those from Umbar."

"Thou speak my mind as well," the first hunter said. "My grandfather and his brother marched into the north with Rómendacil's army and fought in the east, far from home. I too would'st bear arms in support of King Eldacar."

"That is well, but hath either of thee served aforetime in Gondor's army?" Beinvír asked.

For some moments the Men stood silent, but finally both shook their heads 'nay'.

"We hath not been soldiers," the first hunter admitted, "but we can both shoot true and we know these lands."

"In our village art several who hath served," the second hunter said, "and most either support the king outright or dislike the Men of Umbar from times long past, even to the time of the Great War. If thou would'st hath us, we might bring such to support thee, or at the least, offer thee provisions in the days to come."

_Allies unexpected could'st be a blessing, and at the least, provisions would'st save us from detailing some as hunters and gatherers,_ Beinvír thought._ T'would seem a prayer unasked hath been answered._

"Thy aid would'st indeed be welcome," she told the hunters, "and with our thanks I would'st that thou return to thy homes and gather such as can also aid us. I wager that ere thou return, battle will be joined, and so thou may find the fighting in progress when next we meet."

The hunters greeted her words with thankful smiles, and ere they left, they named themselves _Arahrýn_**¹ **and _Lastir_**²** from the village of _Celu Celeb_**³** which lay astride the road but a mile north of the ford. **¹****(**_**Arahrýn,**_** Deer chaser = **_**aras**_(deer) + _**rýn**_(chaser) At the partition of proper names, _–s_ is changed to _ -h._ Sindarin**) ****²****(**_**Lastir,**_** Listener**_** = lasto-**_(listen) + _**-ir**_(masc agent suff, n on v) Sindarin**) ****³****(**_**Celu Celeb, **_**Silver Spring **(lit. Spring of Silver)_** = celu**_(spring) + _**celeb**_(silver) Genitive construction. Sindarin**)**

Now following the departure of the huntsmen, the Rangers set about hiding their presence at the ford, and when no trace was't to be seen of their camp, they moved in companies to their battle stations. Sergeant Langeleg with ten Rangers went downstream. Sergeant Celebthá took half his company upstream, while'st Sergeant Gilhuor and his company, along with Lieutenant Brógthínen commanding the two half companies, remained at the ford with Beinvír.

Chancing again the wrath of Yavanna, Beinvír climbed the tulip tree, and from that vantage espied the cloud of dust raised by the approaching army. 'Twas now but half the distance seen the night before, and so she reckoned them 'nigh five miles to the south.

"Battle in one and one-half hours," she told Lieutenant Brógthínen after climbing down, and he passed the word to Sergeant Gilhuor and his Men.

Now the first foes to appear were a company of cavalry, and these examined the flooded ford and the partial blockage of the southern pass with deadfall, and with much cursing soon withdrew. After another quarter hour, being as no enemies had been seen, the further pass was't filled with both infantry and cavalry, awaiting the decision of their officers on how best to proceed. These officers came as a group right to the water's edge to inspect the ford, and thither they were shot down by the Rangers, every single one.

Shocked silence followed in the southern cutting, and then, while'st troops drew their swords and searched for foes, yet more arrows came and more fell, for the ambush was't wholly unexpected and still no targets presented themselves for their own archers to fire upon. Then, as the junior commanders desperately tried to preserve order, flaming arrows fell into the dead wood beside them and the cutting was't soon engulfed in flames. The soldiers of Umbar fled in panicked disorder, and some were trampled by the horses of their own cavalry as all tried to escape the conflagration 'twixt the high stone walls. And too, no few died in flight, for the Rangers continued firing until all had withdrawn beyond bowshot.

Thus began the defense of Ithilien in 1432, a deadly and demoralizing welcome to the southernmost of the king's lands of old. And though 'twas just past the fourth hour after sunrise, the Men of Umbar withdrew south almost a league, and thither set a camp and ministered to their wounded and sought to discern who stood next in command. So Ithilien and Minas Ithil and Osgiliath were graced with yet another day of peace, and the three score and five defenders felt the elation of victory, for though all knew the battle had just begun, still, it had been a good day.

Now in the mid-afternoon,Arahrýn and Lastir returned with another dozen Men of wide ranging ages, and four amongst them wore the uniform of Gondor's Northern Army, though these showed much wear from campaigning in years long past. All bore swords, some quite old, but newly sharpened, and many also carried bows. And one, an innkeeper named _Merenúrhad_**¹**, carried upon a back-frame a full cask of lamp oil. Beinvír and the Rangers received them gladly and the Men of Celu Celeb joined their camp where introductions were made and many tidings were traded. **¹****(**_**Merenúrhad,**_** Happy Hearth**, (lit. Joyous Fire Place) = _**meren**_(joyous) + _**úr**_(fire) + _**sad**_(place) At the partition in Sindarin proper names, the _–s_ changes to _–h._ Sindarin**)**

"Word we hath sent to the towns north along the road," one of the ex-soldiers said, "and it may come to pass that more shalt join thy cause. The folk hereabouts art for many generations country people who favor not the prideful mien of such upper-class folk as travel at times from the south."

"Aye, in all their finery with 'naught to be found fancy enough to suit their tastes," Merenúrhad added. Others nodded in agreement.

"'Tis more than that," said the second hunter, Lastir. "Our distrust of Umbar goes back even to the Great War, when from thither came many to the service of Sauron…many whom our forefathers fought against in these lands."

"Yet history tells that in those days we had for allies 'nigh three dozen thousands of the Rangers of Lebennin added to the strength of Lord Anárion's army," the soldier said, "and so beleaguered Sauron's soldiery in Minas Ithil ere besieging and destroying them thither."

Then a second soldier who had remained silent 'til then spoke, and the other retired soldiers of Gondor harkened to him, for he was't both older and upon his uniform wore the second stripe of a corporal's rank.

"_Cennan_**¹**, of history thou speak true, and in these latter days, opposing a lesser foe in these same lands, we hath again the aid of allies from Lebennin, fewer in numbers, aye, but 'neath the same commander." Here he dipped his head to Beinvír and Lieutenant Brógthínen who stood beside her, and said, "m'lady, 'tis known that thy people see both the repeating of events and the lessening of all things with time. Think thou that we can'st prevail and destroy again our enemy?"** ¹****(**_**Cennan, **_**Potter** Sindarin**)**

"Nay, _Úcúnon_**¹**,I believe not that we shalt destroy them. Indeed we seek only to delay and hinder their advance, buying thus time for reinforcements to come to the king in Osgiliath," Beinvír told the old corporal.**¹****(**_**Úcúnon, **_**Unbowed One = **_**ú-**_(neg pref, _un-, not_) + _**cún**_(bowed, bent) + _**-on**_(agent suff, n on adj) Sindarin**)**

"'Tis a more realistic expectation," Úcúnon admitted, "and I accept both thy mission and thy command."

His declaration was't echoed by the others from Celu Celeb with many a muttered 'aye' and the nodding of heads in agreement.

Just ere the evening mess another nine came to the Ranger's camp from the village of _Harnamon_**¹**, hunters with bows, several farmers bearing heirloom weapons, and three more ex-soldiers. These greeted the Men of Celu Caleb as neighbors and reported that tidings of Umbar's invasion had been passed yet further north and afield and that they expected more to come. The Green Elf welcomed their aid, and as none of the ex-soldiers yet outranked Corporal Úcúnon, provisionally placed them under his command. **¹****(**_**Harnamon, **_**South Hill = **_**harn**_(southern) + _**amon**_(hill) Sindarin**)**

Now at the second hour past dawn upon the morrow, the forces from Umbar again marched to the ford, this time fully prepared to offer battle. The southern cutting, its deadwood long burnt to ash, was't filled with infantry, warily advancing behind a roof and wall of shields. To the edge of the water they came, unopposed as upon the day before. 'Naught of the defenders could'st they discern upon the northern bank. No glint of metal or hint of movement gave away the Ranger's presence, yet now all the invaders felt the menace of that place as they marked the burnt bodies still lying on the road and the fire-blackened rock walls rising upon either side.

All seemed at peace. Even did birds call and squirrels cavort in the woods, and yet they felt the very air about them hung thick with tension. Placid enough passed the water, yet for o'er a day the risen Poros had scoured the gravel bed of the ford, and now, 'neath the more swiftly moving current, the crossing was't unstable, potholed and uneven, and for those afoot, ill-favored, especially when seeking to remain in tight formation and hold steady their wall of shields. With the conduits 'neath the ford plugged, the water came not to mid-calf as aforetime, but rather ran with a depth reaching o'er a Man's waist ere they had marched two fathoms from the bank.

Grimly the soldiers of Umbar came forth, their wary eyes searching the further cutting and banks, while'st clenching tight their jaws with the effort of keeping both their footing and their formation. The ten fathom breadth of the ford now seemed to stretch 'nigh a mile to their eyes.

Halfway across the ford they had come, and still no sign of the defenders did they see, but the moving water had reached to mid-chest, forcing a great effort just to keep steady their shields, for these were now 'nigh half submerged, acting as rudders in the current. Slow was't their pace and all felt as helpless ducks sitting before a patient bowman, yet foot by careful foot they advanced and none sought to stay them.

Now from upstream they saw floating towards them a very many branches, large and small, the natural flotsam of any river, yet aforetime Poros had run clean, and wherefore now had these come to hinder their progress? In their ranks, a few took to muttering of ill-fate. 'Twas no avoiding them, and Men prepared to ward off such as came against them, while'st trying to maintain their protective shield.

Soon the branches came and collected against the right flank of their files and their progress came to a halt, while'st with one hand each, they tried to ward off the entanglement of limb, branch, and twig. Yet their efforts, hindered thus by the necessity of maintaining their collective shield, were for 'naught, and all felt the growing press of the current as the mass of wood against their side grew ever greater. And still more branches came downstream, ever more it seemed. Now Men braced themselves against the growing force of the water, and thoughts of advance gave way to the struggle to keep their footing. Without thought, bodies turned part sideways to face the water's pressure. Those not immediately upon the right flank sheathed their swords and used their sword arms to help brace their comrades on the upstream side.

From concealment upon the northern bank, the Green Elf watched as the column strained to hold its position while'st ever more branches collected against them. 'Twas hopeless, of course. The severed limbs of Yavanna's folk would'st harness the strength of Ulmo's waters, a strength no Child of the One could'st withstand. To her eye, the balance 'twixt the strength of the Men's footing and the strength of the current would'st soon reach a tipping point and the Men would'st be swept downstream. Unconsciously she calculated the count of approaching branches, added their effect to that of the branches already collected against the right flank of the column from Umbar, and deemed it sufficient.

With a subtle hand sign she signaled Lieutenant Brógthínen who in turn signaled Sergeant Gilhuor, and he the Ranger upstream from him. Swiftly the signal was't passed, and without a sound, word soon came to those upstream to cease releasing branches.

Now all upon the northern side watched and waited. At the Ford of Poros the grim struggle continued. The soldiers of Umbar braced themselves desperately; they strained and pushed to support their companions, grimacing and grunting with the effort. Soon curses were heard. None upon the southern bank could'st aid them, for downstream from the ford upon which the column stood, the water sharply deepened. And finally, though every soldier thought their enemy's arrows would'st soon fly against them, Men let their shields shift out of formation and used both arms to hold back their fellow soldiers.

Finally the last of the branches came against the column's upstream flank, and now the Rangers held their breath. In the column below them, Men leaned into the current, committing now all their strength to resisting the flow of Poros. Some abandoned their shields entirely and these floated off with the current, to be collected at a safe distance downstream by the villagers of Celu Celeb and Harnamon.

The struggle continued for perhaps another ten minutes ere the strength of the Men failed, and then, slowly at first with the slippage of one Man downstream off the ford, the column wavered, buckled and gave way. The soldiery of Umbar was swept off the ford into the downstream depths, where they swam and desperately fought to free themselves from the mass of branches. And while'st some few did indeed drown, submerged and entangled 'til their breath gave out, well 'nigh all finally made their way back to the southern cutting, soaked, exhausted, and demoralized. Though no enemy had been seen and no arrows had flown against them, still no few came to feel that their march was't ill-fated and even the Gods frowned upon their intent, for before them, Poros again ran clean.

**To Be Continued**


End file.
